NEW INTRO TO LEARNING BY EXPAND (2024)

LEARNING BY EXPANDING

AN ACTIVITY-THEORETICAL APPROACH TO DEVELOPMENTAL RESEARCH

(1987). Helsinki:Orienta-Konsultit.

1. INTRODUCTION......................................................................... 23

PROBLEM ONE:THE FUTILITY OF LEARNING................................. 23

PROBLEM TWO:THE ELUSIVENESS OF EXPANSION....................... 26

THEORETICALRESEARCH AS EMPIRICAL RESEARCH.................... 30

HOW TO PROCESSCATEGORIES OUT OF DATA............................ 40

HOW TO MAKE THECATEGORIES REACH REALITY........................ 47

SUMMING UP THEINTENTIONS.................................................... 50

2. THE EMERGENCEOF LEARNING ACTIVITY AS A HISTORICAL FORM OF HUMAN LEARNING 52

AT THE LIMITSOF COGNITIVISM................................................. 52

ZINCHENKO'SCONTRIBUTION...................................................... 56

THE TRIANGLESOF ACTIVITY.................................................... 59

The FirstLineage: From Peirce to Popper................................. 62

The SecondLineage: From Mead to Trevarthen......................... 70

The ThirdLineage: From Vygotsky to Leont'ev.......................... 77

THE EVOLUTIONOF ACTIVITY.................................................... 91

INNERCONTRADICTIONS OF HUMAN ACTIVITY............................. 98

ON THE CULTURALEVOLUTION OF HUMAN LEARNING................ 106

The firstlineage: Learning within school-going........................ 109

The secondlineage: Learning within work activity.................... 117

The thirdlineage: Learning within science and art................... 126

THE STRUCTUREOF LEARNING ACTIVITY.................................. 133

METACOGNITIONAND THE SUBJECT OF LEARNING ACTIVITY...... 136

THE EMERGENCEOF LEARNING ACTIVITY IN THE ONTOGENESIS.. 139

THE FIRSTINTERMEDIATE BALANCE......................................... 144

3. THE ZONE OFPROXIMAL DEVELOPMENT AS THE BASIC CATEGORY OF EXPANSIVE RESEARCH 146

TWOCLASSIC DILEMMAS OF DEVELOPMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY.... 146

LEVELS OFLEARNING.............................................................. 147

LEARNING ANDDEVELOPMENT................................................. 149

INDIVIDUALAND SOCIETAL DEVELOPMENT............................. 156

HOW THE NEW ISGENERATED.................................................. 159

Figure 3.1: Theemergence of activity according to Bratus & Lishin (1983, 44) 161

THE ZONE OFPROXIMAL DEVELOPMENT.................................... 162

THE ADVENTURESOF HUCKLEBERRY FINN AS A VOYAGE THROUGH THE ZONE OF PROXIMAL DEVELOPMENT............................................................................................. 165

Figure 3.2: Theprimary contradiction of Huckleberry Finn's life activity 166

THEORETICAL LESSONS.......................................................... 171

Figure 3.3: Thephase-structure of the zone of proximal development.. 173

THE ANALYSIS OFTHE ZONE EXTENDED: THE CASE OF SEVEN BROTHERS 176

Figure 3.4: Theprimary contradiction of the seven brothers' life activity 177

THE SECONDINTERMEDIATE BALANCE..................................... 186

4. THE INSTRUMENTSOF EXPANSION........................................... 188

THE FIRSTDICHOTOMY: 'PRIMITIVE' VERSUS 'ADVANCED' THOUGHT 188

THE SECONDDICHOTOMY: EXPERIENCE VERSUS ANALYSIS......... 190

THE THIRDDICHOTOMY: NARRATIVE VERSUS PARADIGMATIC THOUGHT... 193

REACHING BEYONDTHE DICHOTOMIES: DEWEY, WERTHEIMER AND BARTLETT 194

THECOMPLEMENTARITY OF INSTRUMENTS............................... 199

COGNITIVETHEORIES OF CONCEPTS - ONCE AGAIN AT THE LIMITS OF COGNITIVISM 200

VYGOTSKY AND THEPROBLEM OF CONCEPTS................................. 202

DIALECTICALLOGIC AND CONCEPTS.................................................. 203

MODELS ASINSTRUMENTS OF EXPANSIVE THINKING................... 209

THE FUNCTIONINGOF MODELS IN THEORETICAL THINKING - PRESENTED AND QUESTIONED 211

Figure 4.1:Object constitution as the first step of theoretical thinking. 211

Figure 4.2:Model construction as the second step of theoretical thinking 212

Figure 4.3:Ascending to the concrete as the third step of theoretical thinking 212

Figure 4.4:Transition from individual actions to collective activity ..... 213

Figure 4.5: Theprimary contradiction of Mendeleev's chemical research activity 215

Figure 4.6: Polanyi'sconception of science (adapted from Miettinen 1986) 219

ANOTHERINSTANCE: FROM NUCLEAR FISSION TO MANHATTAN PROJECT. 219

Figure 4.7: Theprimary contradiction of the activity of atomic-physical research at the end ofits innocence 221

Figure 4.8: Theidealized structure of the new activity of nuclear arms research anddevelopment 225

HISTORICALTYPES OF ACTIVITY AND EXPANSIVE TRANSITION.. 225

Figure 4.9: Fourhistorical types of activity and expansive transition .. 228

SECONDARYINSTRUMENTS SYSTEMATIZED............................. 229

Springboards................................................................................................ 229

Models......................................................................................................... 230

IN SEARCH FOR ATERTIARY INSTRUMENT OF EXPANSION.......... 235

FORMALDIALECTICS AS A CANDIDATE.................................... 237

DIALECTICS OFSUBSTANCE.................................................... 239

SOCIALITY ANDEXPANSION: FROM APPRENTICESHIP TO POLYPHONY 242

THE THIRDINTERMEDIATE BALANCE........................................ 246

5. TOWARDS ANEXPANSIVE METHODOLOGY................................ 247

THE CYCLE OFCULTURAL-HISTORICAL METHODOLOGY:
VYGOTSKY, SCRIBNER, AND COLE............................................ 247

Figure 5.1: Thefour moments of Vygotsky's methodology (adapted after Scribner1985) 248

THE CYCLE OFEXPANSIVE METHODOLOGY...................................... 249

Figure 5.2: Thecycle of expansive transition......................................... 249

Figure 5.3 Themethodological cycle of expansive developmental research 250

PHENOMENOLOGYAND DELINEATION OF THE ACTIVITY SYSTEM.. 250

ANALYSIS OFACTIVITY........................................................... 251

FORMATION OF NEWINSTRUMENTS................................................... 252

PRACTICALAPPLICATION OF NEW INSTRUMENTS..................... 256

REPORTING............................................................................. 256

THE TERMINALBALANCE ........................................................ 257

6. EPILOGUE............................................................................... 257

REFERENCES ............................................................................. 259

Introduction to theGerman edition of Learning by Expanding, published in 1999 under thetitle Lernen durch Expansion (Marburg: BdWi-Verlag; translated by FalkSeeger); also in the Japanese edition, published in 1999 under the title Kakuchoni yoru Gakushu (Tokyo: Shin-yo-sha; translated by a group led by KatsuhiroYamazumi).

LEARNING BYEXPANDING: TEN YEARS AFTER

Yrjš Engestršm

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

Learning by Expanding was published inHelsinki in 1987. A few months later, I began to work as a visiting professorof communication at the University of California, San Diego. I was appointed tothat job on a permanent basis in 1989. In San Diego, the Laboratory ofComparative Human Cognition, founded by Michael Cole, became the home base ofmy research. However, during these years, I have continued to lead a researchgroup at the University of Helsinki, too. In 1995, I was appointed AcademyProfessor by the Academy of Finland, a position that allows me to conduct aresearch program in Finland until the year 2000.

The movesbetween Finland and California have exerted considerable influence on mythinking and research. In California, I had to learn about multiculturalism andto appreciate ethnic, religious, and other differences between people. I alsohad to learn to ground my theoretical ideas in concrete cases and carefullydocumented ethnographic detail. I also learned to appreciate certain things inFinland. These include collaboration and joint authorship between equalcolleagues - something not easy to achieve in American social sciences. Mostimportantly, I learned to appreciate the relative openness of Finnishworkplaces for critical research and bold interventions.

THREE GENERATIONS OF ACTIVITY THEORY

I suggest thatwe may distinguish between three theoretical generations in the evolution ofcultural-historical activity theory. The first generation, centered aroundVygotsky, created the idea of mediation.This idea was crystallized in Vygotsky's (1978, p. 40) famous triangular modelof "a complex, mediated act" which is commonly expressed as the triadof subject, object, and mediating artifact.

The insertionof cultural artifacts into human actions was revolutionary in that the basicunit of analysis now overcame the split between the Cartesian individual andthe untouchable societal structure. The individual could no longer beunderstood without his or her cultural means; and the society could no longerbe understood without the agency of individuals who use and produce artifacts.This meant that objects ceased to be just raw material for the formation of thesubject as they were for Piaget. Objects became cultural entities and theobject-orientedness of action became the key to understanding human psyche.

The limitationof the first generation was that the unit of analysis remained individuallyfocused. This was overcome by the second generation, largely inspired byLeont'ev's work. In his famous example of "primeval collective hunt"Leont'ev (1981, p. 210-213) showed how historicallyevolving division of labor has brought about the crucial differentiation between an individual action anda collective activity. However, Leont'ev never graphically expanded Vygotsky'soriginal model into a model of a collective activity system. Such a modelingeffort was made in Chapter 2 of the present book.

The concept ofactivity took the paradigm a major step forward in that it turned the focus oncomplex interrelations between the individual subject and his or her community.In Soviet Union, the societal activity systems studied concretely by activitytheorists were largely limited to play and learning among children.Contradictions of activity remained an extremely touchy issue. Since the 1970s,the tradition was taken up and recontextualized by radical researchers in thewest. New domains of activity, including work, were opened up for concreteresearch. A tremendous diversity of applications of activity theory began toemerge, as manifested in recent collections (e.g., Engelsted, Hedegaard,Karpatschof & Mortensen 1993; Engestršm, Miettinen & PunamŠki in press;Nardi 1996). The idea of internal contradictions as the driving force of changeand development in activity systems, powerfully conceptualized by Il'enkov(1977; 1982), began to gain its due status as a guiding principle of empiricalresearch.

Ever sinceVygotsky's foundational work, the cultural-historical approach was very much adiscourse of vertical development toward 'higher psychological functions'.Luria's (1976) cross-cultural research remained an isolated attempt. MichaelCole (1988; see also Griffin & Cole 1984) was one of the first to clearlypoint out the deep-seated insensitivity of the second generation activitytheory toward cultural diversity. When activity theory went international,questions of diversity and dialogue between different traditions orperspectives became increasingly serious challenges. It is these challengesthat the third generation of activity theory must deal with.

The thirdgeneration of activity theory needs to develop conceptual tools to understanddialogue, multiple perspectives and voices, and networks of interactingactivity systems. In this mode of research, the basic model is expanded toinclude minimally two interacting activity systems. This move toward networksof activities, while still in an embryonic form, is anticipated in the presentbook (see in particular Figures 2.7 and 2.11)

DEVELOPMENTAL WORK RESEARCH AS AGENDA OFAPPLICATION

The centralideas of this book may be condensed into the following five claims: (1) theobject-oriented and artifact-mediated collective activity system is the primeunit of analysis in cultural-historical studies of human conduct; (2)historically evolving inner contradictions are the chief sources of movementand change in activity systems; (3) expansive learning is a historically newtype of learning which emerges as practitioners struggle through developmentaltransformations in their activity systems, moving across collective zones ofproximal development; (4) the dialectical method of ascending from the abstractto the concrete is a central tool for mastering cycles of expansive learning;and (5) an interventionist research methodology is needed which aims at pushingforward, mediating, recording and analyzing cycles of expansive learning inlocal activity systems.

At the timethis book was written, my colleagues and I had taken the first steps towardconstructing developmental work researchas a methodology for applying activity theory, specifically the theory ofexpansive learning, in the world of work, technology, and organizations. Sincethen, a good number of studies and dissertations applying this framework haveappeared, though mainly in Finnish (for introductions to developmental workresearch, see Engestršm, 1991c; 1993; 1996a; see also Engestršm &Middleton, 1996 for a broader overview of the currently emerging new wave ofcontextualist studies of work).

In the followingsections, I will briefly discuss experiences of and challenges to the theory ofexpansive learning that we have encountered in our research in variousworkplaces during the ten years after this book was initially published.

THE HORIZONTAL AND THE VERTICAL INDEVELOPMENT

In a recentpaper (Engestršm, 1996b), I recommended the reconceptualization of developmentalong three parallel lines: (1) instead of just benign achievement of mastery,development should be viewed as partially destructive rejection of the old; (2)instead of just individual transformation, development should be viewed ascollective transformation; (3) instead of just vertical movement across levels,development should be viewed as horizontal movement across borders.

Points 1 and 2are fairly adequately covered in Learningby Expanding. The third point, that of development as horizontal movementacross borders, was only beginning to dawn on me in 1987. In particular, thesection 'Historical types of activity and expansive transition' in Chapter 4 ofthe present book reflects the influence of vertical evolutionary thinking inwhich qualitatively different types of activity tend to resemble fixed stagesin a normative evolutionary ladder.

Three yearsafter Learning by Expanding waswritten, I explicated my standpoint as follows.

"From the viewpoint of historicity, the keyfeature of expansive cycles is that they are definitely not predeterminedcourses of one-dimensional development. What is more advanced, 'which way isup', cannot be decided using externally given fixed yardsticks. Those decisionsare made locally, within the expansive cycles themselves, under conditions ofuncertainty and intensive search. Yet they are not arbitrary decisions. Theinternal contradictions of the given activity system in a given phase of itsevolution can be more or less adequately identified, and any model for futurewhich does not address and solve those contradictions will eventually turn outto be non-expansive.

An activity system is by definition a multi-voicedformation. An expansive cycle is a re-orchestration of those voices, of thedifferent viewpoints and approaches of the various participants. Historicity inthis perspective means identifying the past cycles of the activity system. There-orchestration of the multiple voices is dramatically facilitated when thedifferent voices are seen against their historical background, as layers in apool of complementary competencies within the activity system."(Engestršm, 1991a, p. 14-15)

Carol Kramsch(1993) recently proposed the concept of 'contact zone' to describe importantlearning and development that takes place as people and ideas from differentcultures meet, collide and merge. Kris Gutierrez and her co-authors (Gutierrez,Rymes & Larson, 1995) suggest the concept of 'third space' to account forsimilar events in classroom discourse where the seemingly self-sufficientworlds of the teacher and the students occasionally meet and interact to formnew meanings that go beyond the evident limits of both. Notions of'perspective' (e.g., Holland & Reeves, 1996) have entered the vocabulary ofactivity theory.

Indevelopmental work research, networks of multiple activities are studiedempirically (e.g., Saarelma, 1993; Miettinen, 1993). A discussion betweenactivity theory and Bruno Latour's (e.g., 1993) actor-network theory has beeninitiated (Engestršm & Escalante, 1996; Engestršm, 1996c). The concept ofboundary crossing is emerging as a tool within developmental work research(Engestršm, Engestršm & KŠrkkŠinen, 1995).

Theacknowledgment of the horizontal dimension calls attention to dialogue asdiscursive search for shared meanings in object-oriented activities. JimWertsch (1991) has done much to introduce Mikhail Bakhtin's (1981; 1986) ideason dialogicality as a way to expand the Vygotskian framework. Ritva Engestršm(1995) went a step further by showing the parallel between Bakhtin's ideas ofsocial language, voice and speech genre and Leont'ev's concepts of activity,action and operation.

One might saythat activity theory, and developmental work research as its application, haveundergone a dialogical turn in the 1990s, inspired by Bakhtin's work inparticular. This move is anticipated toward the end of Chapter 4 in Learning by Expanding.

While I pushfor the recognition and theoretical understanding of the horizontal dimension,I still argue that there is animportant vertical or hierarchical dimension to learning and human cognitionmore generally (Engestršm, 1995). Accounts of learning and innovation that onlyoperate with horizontal or 'flat' notions of cognition miss a cruciallyimportant resource in failing to explore the particular complementarypotentials and limitations of the different levels of mediational means.

Arguments for theimportance of this vertical dimension have sometimes been interpreted asfalling back to deterministic models of developmental stages leading to a fixedend point. For example, Klaus Holzkamp interprets Bateson's (1972) levels oflearning and my use of them in Learningby Expanding as follows: "development depicted as learning passagethrough a logically pre-constructed matrix of stages of learning."(Holzkamp, 1993, p. 238)

Does anargument for a vertical dimension of hierarchical levels automatically imply afixed course of development? Holzkamp overlooks here the dialectics ofuniversality and context-specificity in development. This very issue wasdiscussed by Sylvia Scribner (1985) in her analysis of Vygotsky's uses ofhistory.

But just as Vygotsky does not offer a 'progression ofcultural stages,' he does not offer a stagelike progression of higher forms ofbehavior. One reason, I believe, is that he does not represent higher systemsas general modes of thought or as general structures of intelligence in aPiagetian sense. Vygotsky addressed thequestion of general processes of formation of particular functional systems, aproject quite at variance from one aimed at delineating a particular sequenceof general functional systems. (...) Vygotsky's comparisons are always madewith respect to some particular system of sign-mediated behavior - memory,counting, writing. (...) each of these systems has its own course ofdevelopment; all of them ('higher' or 'cultural' by definition) advance fromrudimentary to more advanced forms. But there is no necessity in theory for all functional systems characterizing thebehavior of an individual, or behaviors in a given social group, to be at thesame level. (Scribner, 1985, p. 132; first italics added by Y. E.)

In the contextof my own argument, the spirit of Scribner's point translates as follows. Imaintain that levels of learning represent 'general processes of formation ofparticular functional systems.' As general processes or generalmechanisms, they contain no fixed order of progression, nor a fixed end point.They are continuously present as resources for the formation of specificinnovations and transformations in particular organizations. It ischaracteristic to the levels of learning that they appear in variouscombinations and that there is continuous interplay between the levels. In thissense, consider the levels as a kit of wrenches of successive sizes. The kitit*elf is pretty general - it may be used in a tremendous variety of specifictasks. But it is always put into use in a particular context and situation.There is definitely a hierarchy in the kit. Yet there is no inherent necessitythat the wrenches must be used in a specific order.

Thisinsistence on working with both dimensions, the horizontal and the vertical, ormore generally, the spatial-social and the temporal-historical, is also oftremendous practical consequence.

"It is surely appropriate to avoid rigid,one-dimensional sequences being imposed on social reality. But especially amongAnglosaxon researchers adhering to the ideas of Vygotsky, the standardalternative seems to be to avoid history altogether. Differences in cognitionacross cultures, social groups and domains of practice are thus commonly explained withoutseriously analyzing the historical development that has led to thosedifferences. The underlying relativistic notion says that we should not makevalue judgments concerning whose cognition is 'better' or 'more advanced' -that all kinds of thinking and practice are equally valuable. While thisliberal stance may be a comfortable basis for academic discourse, it ignoresthe reality that in all domains of societal practice those very value judgmentsand decisions have to be made every day. People have to decide where they wantto go, which ways is 'up'. If behavioral and social science wants to avoid thatissue, it will be unable to work out useful, yet theoretically ambitiousintellectual tools for practitioners making those crucial decisions."(Engestršm, 1991a, p. 10)

MULTIPLE SCALES IN CYCLES OF EXPANSIVELEARNING

The theory ofexpansive learning is based on the dialectics of ascending from the abstract tothe concrete. This a method of grasping the essence of an object by tracing andreproducing theoretically the logic of its development, of its historicalformation through the emergence and resolution of its inner contradictions. Anew theoretical idea or concept is initially produced in the form of anabstract, simple explanatory relationship, a 'germ cell'. This initialabstraction is step-by-step enriched and transformed into a concrete system ofmultiple, constantly developing manifestations. In an expansive learning cycle,the initial simple idea is transformed into a complex object, into a new formof practice. At the same time, the cycle produces new theoretical concepts -theoretically grasped practice - concrete in systemic richness and multiplicityof manifestations.

In thisframework, abstract refers to partial, separated from the concrete whole. Inempirical thinking based on comparisons and classifications, abstractionscapture arbitrary, only formally interconnected properties. Indialectical-theoretical thinking, based on ascending from the abstract to theconcrete, an abstraction captures the smallest and simplest, geneticallyprimary unit of the whole functionally interconnected concrete system (seeIl'enkov, 1977; Davydov, 1990; also Bakhurst, 1991; Falmagne, 1995).

The expansivecycle begins with individual subjects questioning the accepted practice, and itgradually expands into a collective movement or institution. The theory ofexpansive learning is related to Latour's actor-network theory in that bothregard innovations as stepwise construction of new forms of collaborativepractice, or technoeconomic networks (Latour, 1987; 1988; 1993; see alsoEngestršm & Escalante, 1996).

Ascending fromthe abstract to the concrete is achieved through specific epistemic or learningactions. Together these actions form an expansive cycle or spiral. The processof expansive learning should be understood as construction and resolution ofsuccessively evolving contradictions in the activity system.

The theory ofexpansive learning was initially applied to large-scale transformations inactivity systems, often spanning over a period of several years (Engestršm,1991c; Engestršm, 1994). In several recent studies (e.g., Engestršm, 1995;Engestršm, Engestršm & KŠrkkŠinen, 1995; Engestršm, Virkkunen, Helle,Pihlaja & Poikela, 1996; Buchwald, 1995; KŠrkkŠinen, 1996), differentscales have been used. Instead of entire corporations, the focus of thesestudies is on smaller units or teams. Instead of large cycles that take years,the researchers are looking at small phases and cycles that take minutes andhours on the one hand, and intermediate cycles or trajectories that take weeksor moths, on the other hand. Can such miniature and intermediate cycles beconsidered expansive?

The answer isyes and no. A large-scale expansive cycle of organizational transformation alwaysincludes smaller cycles of innovative learning. However, the appearance ofsmall-scale cycles of innovative learning does not in itself guarantee thatthere is an expansive cycle going on. Miniature and intermediate cycles ofinnovative learning should thus be regarded as potentially expansive. Smaller cycles may remain isolated events,and the overall cycle of organizational development may become stagnant,regressive, or even fall apart. The occurrence of a full-fledged expansivecycle is not common, and it typically requires long-term effort and deliberateinterventions. With these reservations in mind, the expansive learning cycleand its embedded actions may be used as a framework for analyzing smaller-scaleinnovative learning processes.

TOWARD UTOPIAN METHODOLOGY

The theory ofexpansive learning implies a radical localism. The fundamental societalrelations and contradictions of the given socio-economic formation - and thuspotentials for qualitative change -are present in each and every local activity of that society. And viceversa, the mightiest, most impersonal societal structures can be seen asconsisting of local activities, carried out by concrete human beings with thehelp of mediating artifacts, even if they may take place in high politicaloffices and corporate board rooms instead of factory floors and street corners.In this sense, it might be useful to try and look at the society more as amulti-layered network of interconnected activity systems, and less as a pyramidof rigid structures dependent on a single center of power.

In theapproach advocated here, research aims at developmental re-mediation of workactivities. In other words, research makes visible and pushes forward thecontradictions of the activity under scrutiny, challenging the actors toappropriate and use new conceptual tools to analyze and redesign their ownpractice (see Engestršm, Virkkunen, Helle, Pihlaja & Poikela, 1996;Engestršm, in press).

This meansthat practitioners are invited to take part in analyzing the disturbances of their activity. Practitionerstypically view series of videotaped or otherwise recorded disturbances togetherwith the researchers. Practitioners are asked to perform essentially the sameanalysis, to appropriate and use the same conceptual tools as the researchers.In some cases, practitioners actually collect major parts of the data, forinstance videotaping each other's work actions and their own interactions. Thistype of research design is schematically depicted in Figure 1.

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Figure 1: General design ofdevelopmental work research (Engestršm, 1991b, p. 80)

In Figure 1,'intermediate conceptual tools' refer to relatively data-driven andcontext-sensitive concepts. Such intermediate concepts are typically created inthe process of collecting and analyzing data, and in the process of designingsolutions to the contradictions identified.

The basicdesign of such interventions follows Vygotsky's method of dual stimulation (see van der Veer & Valsiner, 1991). Thecrucial idea here is that a task is never just the task the experimenterdesigned. It is always interpreted and reconstructed by the subject by means ofhis or her internalized 'psychological instruments' that cannot be strictlycontrolled from the outside. Rather than giving the child just a task, ignoringher interpretation and reconstruction of the task, and observing how shemanages, Vygotsky and his colleagues typically gave the child also potentiallyuseful mediating artifacts - tools or signs. With them, the nature of the taskcould be radically changed. The potential capabilities and emerging newpsychological formations of the child might be revealed.

Suchinterventions are not based on prescriptions but on an introduction andcollaborative application of new tools - literally on re-mediation or re-instrumentation.This is more than opportunistic, casual and informal dialogue; the researcherhas a substantive contribution and must often be very determined and systematicin offering that contribution.

Previous Vygotskiantheorizing and research has mainly focused on a single individual or a dyad oftwo subjects using a single, well-defined mediating tool or artifact. Languageas mediator has required a more complex approach - but studies of semioticmediation have commonly excluded material instruments and tools. Ininterventionist studies of expansive learning, the mediational setup is complexand multi-layered both semiotically and instrumentally, yet the crucial eventsare temporally and spatially constrained so as to allow the collection ofcomprehensive high-fidelity data by means of videotaping. Analysis of such dataforces the researcher to adopt a new view of mediation: instead of singleinstruments, one has to analyze a whole interconnected instrumentality (seeGrismshaw, 1981, for an earlier, more restrictively discursive notion ofinstrumentality).

The concept ofinstrumentality implies that the instruments form a system that includesmultiple cognitive artifacts and semiotic means used for analysis and design,but also straightforward primary tools used in the daily practice and madevisible for examination, reshaping and experimentation. In such a densemediational setting, a set of interconnected new sociocognitive processes arecalled for - literally, a new mentality is to be generated. The very complexityof the setup means that the instrumentality is constantly evolving; old toolsare modified and new tools are created.

This type ofdesign requires a bold experimental attitude rather than the attitude of acasual observer and facilitator. Bringing about and traversing collective zonesof proximal development is experimentation with activity systems. Whenpractitioners face a mirror depicting their own disturbances, they oftenexperience them as personal failures or even crises. Powerful and unpredictablecognitive, emotional and social dissonances are triggered.

Thedevelopmental interventionist needs to record, analyze and support theseprocesses. The researcher needs to record and analyze also his or her ownactions and interactions. Interventions themselves must become an object ofrigorous study.

Learning by Expanding is an agenda forutopian research in concrete human activities undergoing historicaltransformations. It is an ambitious research program both theoretically andpractically. It is still only in its early stages.

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PROBLEM ONE: THE FUTILITY OF LEARNING

In his standard textbook The Conditions of Learning,Robert GagnŽ (1970) identifies eight hierarchically organized typesof learning. The highest, cognitively most advanced type is called problemsolving. In problem solving, "two or more previously acquired rules aresomehow combined to produce a new capability that can be shown to depend on a'higher-order' rule" (GagnŽ 1970, 64). Problem solving is dependent"on the store of rules the individual has available"(GagnŽ 1970, 223).

Although GagnŽ's position was first presented quitea while ago, it has not really been surpassed or superseded by more recenttheorizing within cognitive psychology. For example, Donald Norman in his textbookLearning and Memory (1982) identifies three basic typesof learning: accretion, structuring, and tuning. His structuring is a fairlyclose counterpart of GagnŽ's problem solving. It implies the formation of a newconceptual structure or schema on the basis of previously acquired knowledgeand experience. As a typical example, Norman reports his own learning of theMorse code. Having trained himself a long time to receive individual letters inthe Morse code, not improving noticeably in speed, he was adviced to focus onwords and phrases instead of letters. A dramatic improvement occurred.

"I already had a solid base ofperformance on the individual letters, and so I was able to benefit from theadvice to enlarge the unit size - to restructure my knowledge." (Norman1982, 83.)

The similarity between Norman's structuring andGagnŽ's problem solving is obvious. The jargon has changed, but the substanceremains the same.

At the first sight, problem solving or structuringseem to be satisfactory characterizations of the uppermost reaches of humanlearning. What more can one expect than insightful solutions to problemsthrough a novel structuring of the subject's mental model or cognitive schema?

The problem is that problem solving and structuringare essentially reactive forms oflearning. Both presuppose agiven context which presents the individual with a preset learning task.Learning is defined so as to exclude the possibility of finding or creating newcontexts. However, it is this very aspect of human performance - orrather the lack of it - that is becoming the central source of uneasiness andtrouble in various fields of societal practice. In general terms, troubles ofthis type may be named the difficulty of anticipating, mastering andsteering qualitative changes in individual lives, in families andorganizations, and in the society as a whole.

Symptomatically enough, Norman ends his book with atirade on how badly modern technology matches human capabilities. According tohim, system designers misuse and ignore the users: "they start with themachine, and the human is not thought of until the end, when it's too late:witness the control panels in the nuclear power plants" (Norman 1982,115). Norman's solution is: techonological systems should be designed so as tomake learning easier.

Pleas like this follow the traditional patronizingapproach: the poor learners must be helped to cope with the tasks given to them. The approach is self-defeating. Norman himselfpoints out that it takes a long time to learn the mastery of a complex skill.At the same time, the contexts of the tasks and skills are going throughprofound qualitative changes which often render previous tasks and skillsobsolete. Norman himself says 'when it's too late'. This lag can never beovercome by patronizing, by asking designers to plan more 'user-friendly'systems. It can only be overcome by enabling the users themselves to plan andbring about the qualitative changes (including the design and implementation oftechnologies) in their life contexts.

If learning has nothing to offer in this respect, wehave good reason to talk about the futility of learning. Both in theory and inpractice, human learning actually seems to be doomed to the role of runningafter those qualitative changes in people's life contexts. While the learnersare engaged in diligent problem solving and structuring in order to cope withchanges that have shaken their lives,there are already new qualitative changes quickly getting ripe to fallupon them. This stance is documented by GagnŽ as follows.

"A great scientific discoveryor a great work of art is surely the result of problem-solving activity. (...)Nothing (...) supports the idea that there is anything very different about theproblem solving that leads to discoveries of great social import. (...) But the major discovery, in contrast tothe common garden variety, involves a feat of generalizing that goes far beyond what may be expected inthe usual learning situation. There is an 'inductive leap,' a combining ofideas that come from widely separated knowledge systems, a bold use of analogythat transcends what is usually meant by generalizing within a class of problemsituations." (GagnŽ 1970, 227-228.)

Here we have two assertions. Firstly, great creativeachievements are based on the same kind of inductive, combinatorial problemsolving as any common act of learning by problem solving. Secondly, usual actsof learning by problem solving have practically nothing in common with truly creative discoveries because inthe latter the 'inductive leap' is so much greater. In other words, GagnŽ firstdenies that creation has anything qualitatively special in it. Immediatelythereafter he points out that creation is indeed qualitatively special becauseit transcends the context given.

The outcome is rather gloomy for learning.

"(...) because it is a methodrich in reinforcement value, the solving of problems within structures ofintellectual skills to be learned may create a love of learning, a 'thirst forknowledge' in the individual learner. But it is a vastly different thing tosuppose that this kind of learning will necessarily predispose the individualto become a 'creative' thinker, capable of making great contributions toscience or art. To be sure, the variables that produce genius are surely notentirely innate and must prominently include factors in the individual'sexperience, arising from his environment. But except as a method for acquiringprerequisite intellectual skills, 'practicing discovery' seems an unlikelychoice of antecedent variable to be involved in the production of genius."(GagnŽ 1970, 229.)

This is a specimen of self-defeating circularreasoning. First the author tacitly assumes that the highest form of learningis practicing inductive combinatorial problem solving which by definition doesnot transcend the context given. Then the author triumphantly concludes thatlearning by problem solving does not lead to true creativity, i.e., totransceding given contexts.

In this book, I shall examine whether learningreally is doomed to futility or whether this is an historical artifact of onlylimited and temporary validity, both in theories of learning and in thesocietal practices involving learning.

More specifically, I shall argue (a) that theconception of creation as inductive combinatorial generalization (albeit inmagnified scale) is fundamentally false; and (b) that the conception of thehighest form of learning as inductive combinatorial problem solving orstructuring is also fundamentally false.

PROBLEM TWO: THE ELUSIVENESS OF EXPANSION

The alternative to reactive forms of learning isexpansion which transcends the context given. Because of its elusiveness, expansion is traditionally notconsidered a proper object of scientific investigation. It has very muchremained a domain of mysticism.

C. G. Jung made one of the important early attemptsto incorporate expansion into psychological theory. For him, the key conceptwas the collective unconscious.

"From this point of view theconscious personality is a more or less arbitrary segment of the collectivepsyche. It consists in a sum of psychic facts that are felt to be personal. Theattribute 'personal' means: pertainingexclusively to this particular person. A consciousness that is purely personalstresses its proprietary and original right to its contents with certainanxiety, and in this way seeks to create a whole. But all those contents thatrefuse to fit into this whole are either overlooked and forgotten or repressedand denied. This is one way of educating oneself, but it is too arbitrary andtoo much of a violation. (...) Hence these purely 'personal' people are alwaysvery sensitive, for something may easily happen that will bring intoconsciousness an unwelcome portion of their real ('individual')character." (Jung 1966, 157.)

According to Jung, psychoanalysis may lead toannexing deeper layers of the collective unconscious which produces anenlargement of the personality leading to the pathological state of 'inflation'.

"It occurs whenever people areoverpowered by knowledge or by some new realization. 'Knowledge puffeth up,'Paul writes to the Corinthians, for the new knowledge has turned the heads ofmany, as indeed constantly happens. The inflation has nothing to do with the kindof knowledge, but simply and solely with the fact that any newknowledge can so seize hold of a weak head that he no longer sees and hearsanything else. He is hypnotized by it, and instantly believes he has solved theriddle of the universe. But that is equivalent to almighty self-conceit. Thisprocess is such a general reaction that, in Genesis 2:17, eating of the tree ofknowledge is represented as a deadly sin." (Jung 1966, 156.)

On the other hand, expansion may lead toself-knowledge and truly widened consciousness.

"(...) the more we becomeconscious of ourselves through self-knowledge, and act accordingly, the morethe layer of the personal unconscious that is superimposed on the collectiveunconscious will be diminished. In this way there arises a consciousness whichis no longer imprisoned in the petty, oversensitive, personal world of the ego,but participates freely in the wider world of objective interests. This widenedconsciousness is no longer that touchy, egotistical bundle of personal wishes,fears, hopes, and ambitions which always has to be compensated or corrected byunconscious counter-tendencies; instead, it is a function of relationship tothe world of objects, bringing the individual into absolute, binding, andindissoluble communion with the world at large. The complications arising atthis stage are no longer egotistic wish-conflicts, but difficulties thatconcern others as much as oneself." (Jung 1966, 178.)

For Jung, expansion is achieved through thecollective unconscious, which in turn is reached with the help ofpsychoanalytic therapy. The conception is somehow very static: the collectiveunconscious resides somewhere deep beneath more superficiallayers. The task is to get into touch with it, to seize some of its immensepower. But how did the collective unconscious emerge in the first place? Howdoes it develop? Can the individual participate in creating new forms of thecollective unconscious? And above all: Is the collective unconscious only amental, spiritual layer or does it have some kind of material basis andembodiments in people's societal and productive practice?

As long as these questions remain unasked andunanswered, the Jungian theory remains mystical.

In recent psychological theorizing, some attemptshave been made to reintroduce expansion as a scientific concept. In his'transgressive model of man',Jozef Kozielecki (1986) distinguishes between protective andtransgressive behavior. The latter "allows for moving forward: the personis capable of exceeding the boundaries of his or her material or symbolicachievement, that is, capable of creating or assimilating new values"(Kozielecki 1986, 90). Transgressive behavior is further divided into twotypes, expansion and creation. The former consists in the acquisition andassimilation of existing material or symbolic values (commodities, business,power, influence, knowledge). The latter entails the solution of new,unconventional problems.

Kozielecki gets into trouble when he tries to applythese distinctions in concrete cases.

"There should be no difficultyin classifying Columbus's voyage or Einstein's discoveries as typical instancesof transgressive behavior. We are apt to hesitate, however, when asked todecide if the solving of the Missionaries and Cannibals puzzle is a case oftransgression or not. Similar problems in classification crop up in every otherdomain of psychology, of course." (Kozielecki 1986, 92.)

To avoid such difficulties, Kozielecki puts forwarda definition as broad as possible.

"Any intentional action whoseoutcome transgresses the subject's past achievements is seen as a case oftransgressive behavior." (Kozielecki 1986, 92.)

In other words, if the subject could not previouslysolve the Missionaries and Cannibals problem - and then finally solves it - this should obviously beaccepted as a case of transgression. In effect, there is no clear differencebetween any kind of problem solving or structuring and transgression. Thedifference between a problem and the context producing the problem is blurred -or rather, contexts are not considered. Notice that Kozielecki speaks of transgression onlyin terms of an intentional and individual-psychological process, as 'exceedingthe boundaries of his or her achievement'.Jung's powerful though opaque idea of the collective and often not very intentionalcharacter of expansion is given up without discussion. Notice also thecircularity of Kozielecki's definition: what transgresses is transgression.Very little explanatory power is left in our hands.

Another recent attempt is provided by KarstenHundeide (1985). His key concept is perspective. Using a spatial metaphor, Hundeideintroduces a general theoretical idea of two developmental principles, expansionand contraction. When one is located in a definite position, there are certainthings one can see directly. They occupy a central position in the field ofvision. Other things are in the periphery, and still others are outside one'sfield of vision or perspective.

Correspondingly, when one is in a definiteinterpretive position, there are certain conclusions, judgments, and insightsthat can be immediately seen as plausible and evident. Others are impossible,irrelevant or implausible. Thus, in order to arrive at a definite conclusion orinsight, one must be in the right position. If one is in a 'false position' inrelation to a certain conclusion or insight, there is little point inelaborating alternatives from that position. Instead, one must redefine thesituation or 'restructure the field,' as Gestalt psychologists put it. Such aredefinition of one's position may be of an expansive charater.

"This expansion may resultfrom a confrontation between positions, between the recurrent alternative one takes forgranted and a contrasting alternative. In order to solve this conflict,the person may have to 'move back' to the more detached and abstract position(...). From this position both conflicting perspectives may be integrated andunited.

(...) There is also the oppositemovement (...). I call this the contractionof perspective. This term waschosen because it is a movement from a wider more inclusive position to anarrower one with fewer options. Contraction of perspective may take placeunder conditions of monotony, reduced variation, or the absence of contrastingalternatives." (Hundeide 1985, 314-315.)

Hundeide is very conscious of the difference betweenproblem and context. He also recognizes a specific type of problems, namelyconflicts or contradictions, as the source of expansive recontextualization.However, his expansive recontextualization suffers from the same weakness asKozielecki's whole conception. It is reduced to an individual and mentalprocess. Thus, it is onesidedly attributed the flavor of abstraction anddetachment. Jung's insight into the collective nature of expansion effectivelycounteracts this type of cognitivist impoverishment of human development.

"(...) the collective dreamhas a feeling of importance about it that impels communication. It springs froma conflict of relationship and must therefore be built into our consciousrelations, because it compensates these and not just some inner personal quirk.

The processes of the collectiveunconscious are concerned not only with the more or less personal relations ofan individual to his family or to a wider social group, but with his relationsto society and to the human community in general. The more general andimpersonal the condition that releases the unconscious reaction, the moresignificant, bizarre, and overwhelming will be the compensatory manifestation.It impels not just private communication, but drives people to revelations andconfessions, and even to a dramatic representation of their fantasies."(Jung 1966, 178-179.)

So Jung sees new kinds of communication asnecessarily involved in expansion. But are only cognition and communicationreorganized? Does the material practice remain intact?

In this book, I shall argue that it does not. To thecontrary, true expansion is always both internal and external, both mental andmaterial. More specifically, I shall argue (a) that expansive processes canindeed be analyzed and modelled; (b) that the gateway to understandingexpansion is neither the concept of collective unconscious nor that ofperspective but the concept of activity; (c) that expansive processes arebecoming integrated into processes of learning, i.e., that a historically newadvanced type of learning - learning by expanding - is currently emerging in variousfields of societal practice.

THEORETICAL RESEARCH AS EMPIRICAL RESEARCH

This book is a report ofextended theoretical research. For many people, theory construction is either inductive generalization from socalled empirical facts or purely speculative reasoning. In myview, theoretical research in its mature form is neither one nor a combinationof these two.

I agree with KlausHolzkamp's (1983) characterization of theoretical research. He differentiatesbetween what he calls the level of categories and the level of specifictheories. Categories are basic concepts with which the scientific paradigm orschool defines its object, its inner structure and boundaries. Such categories"always include certain methodological conceptions about how one shallproceed scientifically in order to grasp the object adequately" (Holzkamp1983, 27-28). The research reported in this book belongs to the level ofcategory construction.

"Whereas the construction ofcategories as basic theoretical concepts may be regarded from a bourgeois pointof view mainly as a question of arbitrary definitions and conceptual fixations,the 'historical' category analysis weare proposing is a procedure based on empirical material (...) in which scientific rationality is extended to a problem fieldwhich used to be closed to it: the formationof basic psychological concepts.The methodological difference between research on the level of specifictheories and research on the level of analysis of categories is thus not thatthe former is 'empirical' but the latter 'speculative', merely 'deductive', orthe like. To the contrary, bothresearch types are empirical,but the material collected and used is in the first case of an 'actual-empirical' and in the secondcase of an 'historical-empirical'nature." (Holzkamp 1983, 50.)

So the research reportedin this book is theoretical research aimed at the construction of categories,using a specific type of empirical data. This specific type of data typicallyconsists of propositions and findings ofprevious analyses, or moregenerally, of previousrepresentations of the object of research.

Such data may bepredominantly either object-historical or theory-historical. Object-historicaldata consists of propositions and findings describing the development of theobject of the research - in this book, the historical development of humanlearning and expansion. Theory-historical data consists of theories ortheoretical propositions concerning the object, considered in their historicalorigination and succession - in this book, theories related to human learningand expansion.

In the construction ofcategories, also actual-empirical data is often useful and necessary. But hereHolzkamp's distinction between the level of category construction and the levelof constructing specific theories is essential. In research aimed at a specifictheory, actual-empirical data is an indispensable and integral element of theresearch project. In research aimed at category formation for an entire paradigmaticorientation, actual-empirical data may play a suspended and more mediated role,as if gradually growing into (and simultaneously altering) the suggestedcategories from various concrete projects.

In any theoreticalinvestigation moving on the level of categories, three methodological questionsmust be implicitly or explicitly answered. These three questions are: (1) howto select the data; (2) how to process the data into categories; (3) how tobring the categories developed into fruitful contact with practice.

In the following sections,I shall address these three questions, using two very different examples oftheoretical research as points of comparison. The first example is the shortbut pathbreaking paper Toward a Theory ofSchizophrenia (Bateson 1972,201-227), written by GregoryBateson, Don Jackson, Jay Haley, and John Weakland in 1956. The second exampleis the much discussed two-volume work TheTheory of Communicative Action byJŸrgen Habermas (1981; in English 1984[Volume 1]).

Incidentally, bothexamples are concerned with the theme of communication. However, the paper byBateson & al. is aimed at a reconceptualization of the theory ofschizophrenia, while Habermas's book aims at formulating a comprehensive theoryof communicative action in general. It may look as if the paper by Bateson& al. would be quite specific and not belong to the level of categoryconstruction at all. However, its theoretical kernel, the single centralcategory generated by the authors in that paper, has had an impact that by farexceeds the limits of a specific sub-theory. It has been instrumental in thereorientation of the entire field of family therapy (see Hoffman 1981) and ithas inspired a variety of novel theoretical openings in other fields.

HOW TOSELECT THE DATA

In theoretical research, just like in all empiricalresearch, the selection of data is crucial for the credibility of the outcome.Two dangers are constantly present. The first danger is data selection throughblind chance or intuition without articulated justification. The second dangeris the subordination of data selection to predetermined outcomes, i.e., use ofdata as mere illustration of conclusions fixed by the researcher in advance. Inboth cases, the typical critique focuses on the questionable representativenessor comprehensiveness of data.

At the beginning of theirpaper, Bateson and his collaborators explicate their database as follows.

"The theory of schizophreniapresented here is based on communications analysis, and specifically on theTheory of Logical Types. From this theory and from observations ofschizophrenic patients is derived a description of, and the necessaryconditions for, a situation called the 'double bind' - a situation in which nomatter what a person does, he 'can't win.' (...)

Our research in this field hasproceeded by discussion of a varied body of data and ideas, with all of uscontributing according to our varied experience in anthropology, communicationsanalysis, psychotherapy, psychiatry, and psychoanalysis. We have now reachedcommon agreement on the broad outlines of a communicational theory of theorigin and nature of schizophrenia; this paper is a preliminary report of ourcontinuing research." (Bateson 1972, 201-202.)

The data demonstrated inthe paper itself consists mainly of (1) the philosophical Theory of LogicalTypes (adapted from Whitehead & Russel's Principia Mathematica), asapplied to communication, and (2) observations of schizophrenogenic familysituations and schizophrenic patients. However, the data is presented in arather brief and condensed manner. The whole paper consists of 27 pages in the1972 book version. It contains 16 footnotes (of which two refer to personalcommunications). No attempt ismade at representativeness of data. The choice of data seems to stem from theauthors' personal inspirations rather than from any systematic analysis ofprevious theories or of the history of schizophrenia. The whole paper bears thecharacteristics of a lucky hybrid: a good idea that emerged in a groupversatile, sophisticated and unconventional enough to embark on a challengingintellectual adventure. The credibility of the category generated (double bind)lies less in its database than in its immediately fascinating heuristic powerand in the visions it opens.

Habermas's voluminous workis completely different in its relation to data. Thomas McCarthy, thetranslator of Habermas, gives the following characterization.

"He develops these themes [ofcommunicative action; Y.E.] through asomewhat unusual combination of theoretical constructions with historicalreconstructions of the ideas of 'classical' social theorists. The thinkersdiscussed - Marx, Weber, Durkheim, Mead, Lukacs, Horkheimer, Adorno, Parsons -are, he holds, still very much alive. Rather than regarding them as so manycorpses to be dissected exegetically, he treats them as virtual dialoguepartners from whom a great deal that is of contemporary significance can stillbe learned. The aim of his 'historical reconstructions with systematic intent'is to excavate and incorporate their positive contributions, to criticize and overcome their weaknesses,by thinking with them to go beyond them." (McCarthy 1984, vi-vii.)

In fact, Habermas pours amassive cavalcade of theories and concepts onto the canvas of his book. Morespecifically, it brings together"the theories of action, meaning, speech acts, and other similardomains of analytic philosophy" (Habermas 1984, xxxiv) on the one hand andclassical sociological theories on the other hand. In the 1174 pages of thebook, there are 1242 footnotes(original German version; Habermas 1981). The reader is subjected to a virtualbombardment of sources. The credibility of the argumentation is very much basedon the data. But it is not based on the professed representativeness of thedata, rather on the internal connections and 'plots' found between and withinthe various sources.

In the present book, Ifollow neither Bateson & al. nor Habermas in my selection of data - and Ifollow both in certain respects.

I shall use threeprincipal types of data in this book. The firsttype of data consists of theories and theoretical propositions pertaining to human learning andexpansion. This type of data has the dominant role in the present work. In theselection and presentation of this data,I am following certain structural steps or stages of argumentation.

First of all, ineach chapter (except Chapter 5, which is actually a methodological postscript),the construction of categories begins with an identification andcharacterization of the most advanced state of theorizing within the currently dominant paradigm. With 'the most advanced' I refer totheorizing which either crystallizes the dominant conception in a very clearfashion or, in its aspiration to gofurther, tendentially exceeds the conceptual and methodological boundaries ofthe dominant paradigm and thus makes those boundaries or limits visible.However, such theorizing is also acknowledged as advanced within the paradigm -it is not generally disregarded as merely an eccentric curiosity. Given the object of this book, thedominant paradigm is the cognitive psychology of learning and development. Asits representatives, I am using GagnŽ, Norman, Kozielecki, and Hundeide in Chapter 1; Bereiter, Langley & Simon, and Klix in Chapter 2; Baltes & al., Brown, Riegel, Bronfenbrenner, Lerner, andBuss in Chapter 3; Hallpike, Dreyfus & Dreyfus,Brehmer, Bruner, Miller, and Simon - and later a long list of others - in Chapter 4.

Secondly, to counterand problematize the propositions of cognitive psychologists, I examine andemploy certain classical theories which put the problem of the chapter inquestion into a more penetrating light. The task of these sources is to enforcea deepening of the analysis so as to identify the long lineages or historical'red threads' of categoryformation. These classical theories were chosen on the basis of their knowngeneral characteristics, but in the course of the investigation, each one of themturned out to be a well of surprises. In Chapter1, I use the theory of C. G.Jung. In Chapter 2, three classical lineages areexamined: the semiotic and epistemological lineage from C. Peirce to K. Popper;the lineage from the symbolic interactionism of G. H. Mead to modern interactionist developmentalpsychology; and the lineage of cultural-historical psychology from Vygotsky toLeont'ev. In Chapter 3, the work ofG. Bateson is used. And in Chapter4, the theories or J. Dewey,M. Wertheimer, and F. Bartlett are examined.

Thirdly, to develop the argument further, I take up and analyzethe ideas of the cultural-historicaltheory of activity in itsmodern form. This is the line of thought I try to continue and develop further.For that purpose, it is necessary to explicate the relevant insights producedwithin or close to this school of thought. In Chapter 2, I discussespecially the analyses presented by A. N. Leont'ev and E. V. Il'enkov, butalso those of V. P. Zinchenko, L. A. Radzikhovskii, and D. B El'konin. In Chapter 3, I continue employing the work of L. S. Vygotsky, A. N. Leont'ev and their students, but related westernworks by M. Wartofsky, R. HarrŽ& al., I. Prigogine, M. Cole, S. Scribner, K. Holzkamp, and others are also drawn upon. In Chapter 4, especially the work of E. V. Il'enkov and V. V. Davydovon concept formation and dialectics is discussed, as well as the related ideasof M. Bakhtin on the dialogical nature of thought. And in Chapter 5, themethodological ideas of L. S. Vygotsky, S. Scribner, and M. Cole areconsidered, along with the more specific suggestions of G. Altshuller and B.Fichtner. In general, this third step is not carried out in a dogmatic manner.Often in this stage of the analysis I take up theoretical insights that havenot originated within the confines of any strictly delimited school - or haveoriginated within schools of their own. Usually those insights are, however,based on philosophical and methodological assumptions which are substantively verymuch akin to those that have inspired the the cultural-historical schoolfounded by Vygotsky, Leont'ev and Luria.

In all the three steps, Iapproach and use theory-historical data much in the same manner as Habermasapproaches his data. The theories considered are taken as live discussionpartners. While criticizing and often plainly rejecting them, I try toincorporate some of their wisdom into my further argumentation. Criticism forcriticism's sake would not make much sense.

The second type of my data consists of general historical accounts of the development of human learning and expansion. Suchdata is mainly used in Chapter 2, in the sections concerning the evolution ofactivity and the cultural-historical evolution of human learning.

The section on theevolution of activity is a condensed systematic reconstruction based on theevolutionary and anthropogenetic data presented in works of Keiler, Leakey,Lewontin, Reynolds, and Schurig. Thissection does not intend to display an extensive variety of data because thesubtle disagreements and variations in the interpretation ofanthropogenesis are not relevantfor my argument. My conclusions rest on fairly generally accepted main featuresof the anthropogenesis. The end part of that section is based on the analysisof human societal production provided by Marx in Grundrisse.

The large section on thecultural evolution of human learning is divided into three sub-sections. Thefirst one is a systematic reconstruction of the historical development oflearning within schooling. In this sub-section, I rely on data on thedevelopment of literacy and schooling,presented by researchers like Fichtner, Ong, Scribner & Cole, andothers. The second sub-section is a reconstruction of the development oflearning within work, this time restricted to the era of capitalism. Thissection begins with the data provided by Marx in Capital, then goes onto discuss the effects of Taylorist rationalization, countering Braverman'slinear dequalification thesis with a case provided by Hirschhorn. Finally thethird sub-section discusses the development of learning within science and art.Studies by Zilsel, Lefvre, Malinowski, Bronowski, Vygotsky, and Wartofsky areused as material in the reconstruction.

All these threesub-sections, as well as the section on the evolution of activity, bear thecharacter of historically informedsketches, limited in scope and coverage. They are not object-historicalinvestigations in themselves. They are sketches in the sense of working out preliminary basis for hypotheticcategories. Object-historicalmaterial is used much in the same way as the Theory of Logical Typeswas used by Bateson & al., namely as a heuristic gateway (or ashortcut, or perhaps a crutch) for reaching the formulation of a hypotheticnovel category. That is why secondary object-historical sources, used almost inan anecdotic fashion, are considered sufficient in this book. On the otherhand, the gateway is here grounded in and preceded by the larger theory-historicaldiscussion.

The third type of my dataconsists of accounts of specifichistorical cases in thedevelopment of human learning and expansion. These cases serve as test materialto which I apply the the categories formulated. At the same time, the analysesof the cases produce findings which enable me to develop the categoriesfurther. There are two types ofmain cases and additional subsidiary cases.

The two types of maincases are (a) literary cases and (b) cases from the history of science. Twocases of both types are analyzed. In Chapter 3, I analyze the literary cases ofThe Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain and Seven Brothers by Aleksis Kivi. In Chapter 4, I analyze Mendeleev's discovery of the periodic law of elements,described and documented by B. F. Kedrov,and the discovery of nuclearfission which led to theconstruction of the atom bomb, as described and documented by R. Jungk. All thefour cases are examples of expansive developmental transitions.

The reason for usingliterary fiction as data on developmental transitions is the following.Expansive developmental transitions are relatively long in duration. They arecomplex collective dramas where both the context and the actors are profoundlychanged. Such processes are difficult to document, especially if one wants tocatch the psychological aspects of the process. Classic developmental novelsare often excellent reconstructions of such processes, "viewing theindividual in movement, in constant development, as a necessary condition ofhis existence" (Bratus 1986, 95). Their validity and 'truthfulness' may ofcourse be questioned. Surely they are not simple descriptions or directrecordings of events that have 'really happened'. But they have become classicfor the very reason of expressing and reflecting, and indeed breeding andpromulgating, something essential and concretely general in the expansiveprocesses emerging in and typical to a certain culture and certain historicalperiod.

The use of accounts ofimportant scientific discoveries, on the other hand, is justified by theincreasing societal impact of such expansive processes. Also there exist somerelatively well documented cases, such as the two I am using. In the caseaccount on Mendeleev's discovery, Kedrov has had an exceptionally completearchive material at his disposal. Mendeleev had the habit of writing down eventhe small events and thoughts that occurred to him, and he also stored allthese written documents with great care. In the case account on the discoveryof the nuclear fission and on the subsequent construction of the atom bomb,Jungk had the opportunity of not only going through extensive writtenmaterials, including private correspondences, but also of interviewingpersonally an impressive number of the central personalities directly involvedin this historical process.

Beside these four maincases, a few subsidiary cases are taken up and analyzed more superficially.These include Hirschhorn's account of the accident in the nuclear power planton the Three Mile Island (Chapter 2) and GrŸnewald's account on Children'sCampaign for Nuclear Disarmament (Chapter 3), as well as some other minorcases, presented mainly for the purposeof illustration and concretization of the argument.

It may be asked why I havenot used a single comprehensive report of my own concrete research as data. Theanswer is that the expansive developmental research methodology outlined inthis book, especially in Chapter 5, requires a complex and extensive report tobe understood. I found it impossible to incorporate such a report withouteither making the book unbearably voluminous or severely mutilating the concrete research report. This may be due to the fact that I amstill too close to and too involved in the concrete projects I could inprinciple have used as sources of data. In the text, I have also refrained fromreferring to any other publications of my own. My previous publicationspertaining to the themes of this book are listed in a separate bibliography atthe end of the book.

HOW TO PROCESS CATEGORIES OUT OF DATA

In the presentation of atheory, i.e., in the outcome of theoretical research, the emergence of thecategories may look simple, as if they had appeared from the 'pure thought' ofthe author. This kind of presentation is deceptive. It only reveals that theauthor himself is not conscious of the path he has gone. The better this pathof processing categories out of data is brought into the open, the greater isthe possibility that the reader may become involved in the theory as an activediscussion partner and contributor to its further development. The theorybecomes a processual entity and an instrument of its own development.

On the other hand, if thepath or the process of derivation and critical analysis becomes the solecentral focus, the outcome itself may get lost. When nothing seems to get fixedinto clearcut categories, the reader has little to cling to in his own effortsof reconstruction, application and critique. Theory becomes a stream in whichthe reader tries to hold his head above the surface without quite knowing wherehe is floating to.

In the paper by Bateson& al., the new category (double bind) is presented immediately after thediscussion of the use of Logical Types in communication. The category is firstprovisionally defined with the help of a series of six necessary ingredients.Then the effects of a double bind are characterized in general terms. Afterthat, the category is concretized by embedding it into the context of thefamily situation, and further concretized by presenting illustrations fromclinical data. The procedure is rather deductiveand straightforward.

Strangely enough, unlikein so many deductive theories, the whole argumentation does not look like afinished and frozen structure. To the contrary, it evokes (and has indeedevoked) a host of questions, counter-arguments, application ideas, etc. How isthis possible?

I think that the reason istwofold. Firstly, about half way in the middle of the paper, the authorsspecify their database in an important way: "The theoretical possibilityof double bind situations stimulated us to look for such communicationsequences in the schizophrenic patient and in his family situation. Toward thisend we have studied the written and verbal reports of psychotherapists who havetreated such patients intensively; we have studied tape recordings ofpsychotherapeutic interviews, both of our own patients and others; we haveinterviewed and taped parents of schizophrenics; we have had two mothers andone father participate in intensive psychotherapy; and we have interviewed andtaped parents and patients seen conjointly." (Bateson 1972, 212.) It seemsobvious that this data has actually not only been used after the category wasfound and formulated theoretically, as if for verifying and concretizing itonly - although this impression is built into the deductive structure of thepaper. Clearly the kinds of object-historical and actual-empirical datacharacterized above have played an important role in the very finding andformulation of the category. This conclusion is further supported by a footnotewhere the authors refer to one of the most famous first-hand object-historicalsources on schizophrenia, namely Perceval'sNarrative from 1830-1832. My argument is that Bateson & al.succeeded so well in hitting the core of their research object, or in findingsomething like its germ cell, not only because they had become acquainted withthe philosophical Theory of Logical Types (as the paper implies) but becausethey actually had done and were doing very demanding object-historical andactual-empirical analysis of their object. The Theory of Logical Types probablyfunctioned more like a springboard, a novel analogy needed for the breakthroughto take place.

The second reason for theliveliness of the theory of Bateson & al. is simply its incomplete andopen-ended nature. Unlike the classical deductive theory, the paper stops shortbefore even starting to deduce sub-categories from the central category of thedouble bind. The paper gives barely enough concretization by clinicalillustrations to set off the reader's own thought experiments. This has been asource of much frustration and much creative effort.

If Bateson & al. developtheir category with one piercing sting, the method employed by Habermas is morelike spinning and weaving a complicated conceptual texture or web. The entire texture is extremelydemanding for the reader because of the multitude of excursions and sidetracks. But on the whole, the chainof argumentation is logical.

Habermas's starting pointis an explicit shift from the paradigm of consciousness to the paradigm of language as speech. The goal-directed actions of differentindividuals are socially coordinated, and language is the means of coordinating them. The fundamentalcategory of communicative action is established on this basis: it is acoordinating action aimed at "reaching understanding in the sense of acooperative process of interpretation" (Habermas 1984, 101). From thisbasis, the category of communicativecompetence is derived. This inturn implies a general category of rationality as achieving mutual understanding incommunication that is free from coercion.The category of communicative action is used to analyze "whetherand in what sense the modernization of a society can be described from thestandpoint of cultural and societal rationalization" (Habermas 1984, 6).The categories of modernity and rationalization are analyzed with the help of thecategories of lifeworld and system which togetherform Habermas's two-level concept of society. Modernity is analyzed asrationalization and colonization of the lifeworld, or as the decoupling oflifeworld and system.

All these categories areworked out and elaborated through the theory-historical data provided by the classical sociological theories of Weber, Lukacs,Adorno, Mead, Durkheim, Parsons, and Marx.

This chain of categories -coordination-language-communicative action-communicativecompetence-rationality-modernity-rationalization-lifeworld-system - is notlinear or deductive in any simple sense. The links of the chain, i.e., thechapters and sections of the book, are in themselves relatively independentcycles of argumentation and analysis.Still the chain is a logical whole. It follows a complex and bouncylogic of interconnections and mutual transitions which is not very clearlyexplicated by the author. The reader has to reconstruct the logic for himselfwith great efforts. This is obviously the intention of the author. The idealreader dwells in the book, moves back and forth, discovers new connectionsand ideas by diving into thetexture time and again. Of course the problem is that there may not be verymany such ideal readers. Many a reader will drown in the conceptual stream,never reaching the point of constructing his own vessels for sailing.

In the present book, too,the central chapters are relatively independent cycles of analysis and categoryconstruction. Each one of Chapters 2, 3, and 4 follows roughly the same logic.At first, the problem is presented by introducing certain antinomies orconceptual troubles within cognitive psychology. Secondly, the problem iselaborated using theory-historical data. Thirdly, the new categories areprovisionally characterized, defined and modelled. Fourthly, the new categoriesare tested and further elaborated using general object-historical accounts orspecific object-historical cases as data. Fifthly, some implications are discussedand an intermediate balance is drawn as a preparation for the next round ofcategory construction. The sequence may be partially repeated andthe order of some steps may be changed, but this is the general logic of theargumentation.

In Chapter 2, the task isto find the initial abstraction, thegerm-cell category that can mediate between learning and expansion. Theanalysis proceeds through the five steps named above in the following manner.(1) The problem is presented as the 'learning paradox' of Bereiter and as theproblem of the evolution of learning as posed by Klix. (2) The problem iselaborated using thetheory-historical data from three lineages which have taken the system ofman-in-society or individual-in-contextas their basic unit ofanalysis. (3.1) The generalcategory of activity isdefined and modelled. (4) Three historical lines of the cultural evolution ofhuman learning are interpreted with the model of activity. (3.2) The germ-cell category of learning activity, or learningby expanding, is defined andmodelled as the outcome of the preceding step. (5) Two sets of implications arediscussed, namely those concerning the subject of learning activity and thoseconcerning the emergence of learning activity in the ontogenesis.

In Chapter 3, the task isto find the mechanism of transition fromlearning to expansion, from everyday individual actions to novel collectiveactivity. (1) The problem is presented as the dilemma of learning vs.development and as the dilemma of individual vs. societal development. (2)First Bateson's work, then more recent activity-theoretical and related worksare employed as theory-historical data to elaborate the problem. (3.1) Thecategory of the zone of proximaldevelopment is defined as thesolution to the problem. (4) Twohistorical case accounts of expansive transition (classic developmental novels)are analyzed with the help of the category of the zone of proximal development.(3.2) The analyses yield a more detailed picture of the phases or steps withinthe zone of proximal development - the stepwise structure is modelled. (5)Instructional implications of the category are discussed.

In Chapter 4, the task isto find the central instruments neededfor the mastery of expansive transitions,or zones of proximal development. (1.1) The problem is presented in the form of threedichotomies in cognitive theories of thinking. (2.1) The ideas of Dewey,Wertheimer and Bartlett are analyzed as theory-historical data to elaborate theproblem. (1.2) The dilemma of advanced cognitive theories of concepts is takenup as an extension of the initial problem. (2.2) Activity-theoretical ideas ofconcepts are analyzed as theory-historical data to elaborate the problemfurther. (3.1) Three basic types of secondary instruments of expansivetransitions are defined: springboards,models and microcosms. (4) Twohistorical case accounts of expansive transition (scientific discoveries) are analyzed and the secondaryinstruments employed in the cases are identified. (2.3) Theories of dialecticaland dialogical thinking are analyzed as further theory-historical data. (3.2) Aprovisional definition of dialectics as the tertiary instrument of expansionis suggested. (5) Implications for concrete research methodology are pointedout.

My way of processingcategories out of data in these three chapters has certain affinities both withBateson & al. and with Habermas. I try to share with Bateson & al. theway of defining the novel categories found in a relatively unambiguous andsystematic manner. This entails a certain risk of rigidity. On the other hand,I share with Habermas the aspiration to proceed through a chain of cyclicanalyses of theory-historical data where theories are treated as livediscussion partners. This entails a certain risk of drowning the reader intheories. In the worst event, these risks reinforce each other. In the bestevent, they balance and neutralize each other.

There are further twospecific features of presenting and processing data in this book. The first oneis the extensive use of quotations from the theoretical sources discussed andanalyzed. The second one is the almost equally extensive use of graphic models.

All theories have a dualcharacter. They are simultaneously fixed conceptual structures and livingprocesses of continuous concept formation. The continuous development of thetheory is possible only from within it, through its immanent contradictions andgaps. The more polished and closed the appearance of the theory, the harder it isfor the reader to enter the immanent process of its critical elaboration.Glazman (1972, 204) points out that scientists may more or less consciouslyconstruct 'windows' in their theories. These windows are gaps, inconsistenciesor ambivalent formulations which invite the reader to engage in immanentpolemics with the author.

In this book, I usequotations as windows into the innermost movement and dynamics of my theoryconstruction. In theoretical research, the difference between displayingoriginal quotations and only the author's own interpretations of the giventheoretical sources is much the same as the difference between displayingoriginal interview protocols and only questionnaire data in actual-empiricalresearch. In other words, the quotations serve in theory what in empiricalanthropology would be called 'thick description' (Geertz 1973).

An original quotation,when it is not mishandled and mutilated so as to be totally subordinated to thesingle-minded purpose of the author, represents a voice and a language of a researcher otherthan the author. It represents a dynamism of its own, never perfectly in linewith the author's intentions. It allows for a variety of interpretations andassociations, not only the ones the author employs in his line of reasoning.The intentional use of multiple voices, multiple languages, is called heteroglossia.

"Heteroglossia (...) is another's speech in another's language, serving to express authorialintentions but in a refracted way. Such speech constitutes a special type of double-voiced discourse. It serves two speakers at the sametime and expresses simultaneously two different intentions: the directintention of the character who is speaking, and the refracted intention of theauthor. In such discourse there are two voices, two meanings and twoexpressions. And all the while these two voices are dialogically interrelated,they - as it were - know about each other (...); it is as if they actually holda conversation with each other." (Bakhtin 1982, 324.)

For example in this quotation, Mikhail Bakhtin isspeaking about heteroglossia in the novel, not in scientific theorizing. I amusing his voice to express, in arefracted form, my intentions and arguments aboutheteroglossia in theoretical research. But his voice does not yield to mypurposes without simultaneously producing what Bakhtin (1982, 325) calls'dialogized ambiguity'.

Quotations are not primarily used for illustrativepurposes in this book. To the contrary, quotations function here like pieces ofa puzzle or a mosaic. The overarching theme and conceptual pattern of this bookemerge through the quotations. The dialectical derivation of categoriesdemands that the research becomes "sunk into the material in hand","following the course that such material takes" (Hegel 1966, 112).The aim is that "by this process the whole as such, surveying its entirecontent, itself emerges out of the wealth wherein its process of reflectionseemed to be lost" (Hegel 1966, 113).

My extensive use of graphic models serves a twofoldpurpose. For the first thing, it aims at making the central categories foundtransparent and compact. This the representation function of the models. But I use thegraphic models in series of successive variations, not just as singularrepresentations. The series of successive variations serve the instrumental or processual function of the models. With thehelp of such variations, I try to demonstrate how the models can depictmovement and change. The reader is invited to formulate and test his ownvariations.

HOW TO MAKE THE CATEGORIES REACH REALITY

A theory is a potentialinstrument for dealing with practice. Within theories of man and society, suchas those discussed in this book, different intended practice-relations are embedded.The practice-relation built into traditional theories is that of speaking to academic empirical researchers who shall verify and concretize thetheoretical categories. In such traditional theories, thesocietal practice remains a distant testing ground, used mainly (a) as sourceof ex post facto data or of data abstracted viaexperimental designs (seeMaschewsky 1977), and (b) as object of benevolent recommendations basedon the findings gained in research.

There are at least twomore radical and direct ways of building the practice-relation into the theory.One alternative is to speak directly to professionalpractitioners in the field the theory is concernedwith, that is, to prompt them to act as experimenters in their practicalcontexts. Another alternative isto speak to social movements concerned with the problems the theoryis trying to illuminate. The classical example is of course the theoreticalwork of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels.

The paper by Bateson &al. quite clearly speaks to professional practitioners in the field ofpsychotherapy. "The understanding of the double bind and its communicativeaspects may lead to innovations in therapeutic technique. (...) double bindsituations occur consistently in psychotherapy. At times these are inadvertentin the sense that the therapist is imposing a double bind situation similar tothat in the patient's history, or the patient is imposing a double bindsituation on the therapist. At other times therapists seem to impose doublebinds, either deliberately or intuitively, which force the patient to responddifferently than he has in the past. (...) Many of the uniquely appropriatetherapeutic gambits arranged by therapists seem to be intuitive. We share thegoal of most psychotherapists who strive toward the day when such strokes ofgenius will be well enough understood to be systematic and commonplace."(Bateson & al. 1972, 225-227.)

The practice-relationbuilt into Habermas's work is more ambiguous. Habermas emphasizes that he haswritten his book for researchers, "for those who have professionalinterest in the foundations of social theory" (Habermas 1984, xlii). Onthe other hand, he points out that new kinds of conflicts and social movementshave developed in advanced Western societies during the last years. "Theydo not flare up in areas of material reproduction; they are not channeledthrough parties and associations; and they are not allayed by compensationsthat conform to the system. Rather, these new conflicts arise in areas of culturalreproduction, of social integration and of socialization; they are carried outin subinstitutional, or at least extraparliamentary, forms of protest (...). Itis not primarily a question of compensations that the social-welfare state canprovide, but of protecting and restoring endangered ways of life or ofestablishing reformed ways of life." (Habermas 1981, Vol. 2, 576.) Here, toward the end of his book,Habermas is increasingly speaking to the 'new social movements'. He mentionssuch phenomena as the ecology and antinuclear movements, the limits-to-growthdebate, the peace movement, the women's movement, experiments with communal andrural living, liberation movements of various minority groups, conflicts overregional and cultural autonomy, protests against 'big government', religiousfundamentalism and the proliferation of religious sects, the multifarious'psychoscene,' the proliferation of support groups, and the like. Most of theseare purely defensive, only some (like feminism) have offensive featuresgrounded in modernity. Habermas summarizes his message to such movements:"Restricting the growth of monetary-administrative complexity is by nomeans synonymous with surrendering modern forms of life. In structurallydifferentiated lifeworlds a potential for reason is marked out that cannot beconceptualized as a heightening of system complexity." (Habermas 1984,xlii.) The perspective offered in this message is vague optimism, promisingsome free room for the movements with their emancipatory and defensivecommunicative actions in the enclaves of the modern rationalized society.

In the present book, I amspeaking to both researchers andpractitioners, whether thelatter be professional or blue collar, or engaged in activities entirely otherthan wage labor. The methodology of expansive research sketched in Chapter 5 isnecessarily a joint venture. The researcher (or rather, the team ofresearchers) has the task of pushing the cycle of expansive transition forwardand introducing instruments or components for new instruments into it. Thepractitioners have the task of facing and solving the contradictions of theiractivity system as they are identified and aggravated along the voyage throughthe zone of proximal development. In this process, the practitionerstendentially become subjects - or rather a collective subject - of theirevolving new activity system, thus also subjects of analysis and intervention.

In other words, themethodology proposed in Chapter 5 is not only a methodology of research butalso a methodology of practical societal transformation. This means that I amalso speaking to social movements.But social movements are not empiristically taken as something given. Rather,they are conceived of as something potentiallyemerging, something in theprocess of becoming, within any real societal activity system.

Here I disagree withHabermas who seems to see hope only outside the system of production andadministration. I contend that such a stance indicates a lack of intimateknowledge about the inner contradictions and emancipatory dynamics within theworld of wage labor, be it in production or administration. In the heart ofmodern production and administration, also the hidden powers of qualitativechange are greatest. Retreat intothe safe world of academic discourse is today almost a guarantee of distortedobservation. The naive optimism of Bateson & al., prophesying 'innovations'in professional therapeutic work, has a deeper historical truth in it than thewordy roundabouts of Habermas.

SUMMING UP THE INTENTIONS

The problems motivating this inquiry are (1) theincreasingly recognizable futility of learning in its standard reactive forms,and (2) the elusive and uncontrollable nature of expansive processes wherehuman beings transcend the contexts given to them. The hypothesis guiding thefurther course of my study is that learning and expansion are becomingintegrated, forming a historically new type of activity.

Thus, the present study falls into the category ofgeneral developmental and educational theory. For reasons that will becomeclear in Chapter 2, I see the central fields of application of this theory inthe life practices of adults and adolescents, especially in the interrelationsof work and learning.

The method used in this study is dialecticalderivation and construction of categories. Each substantive chapter is arelatively independent cycle of analysis and construction, following roughlythe same logical sequence. (1) The problem is presented by introducing certainantinomies or conceptual troubles within cognitive psychology. (2) The problemis elaborated using theory-historical data. (3) The new categories areprovisionally characterized, defined and modelled. (4) The new categories aretested and further elaborated using general object-historical accounts orspecific object-historical cases as data. (5) Some implications are discussedand an intermediate balance is drawn as a preparation for the next round ofcategory construction.

The outcomes of the study are condensed into aseries of graphic models. Since these models are instruments of thought andpractice, they are best understood by following their creation and by applyingthem in activity.

AT THE LIMITS OF COGNITIVISM

Within developmentally oriented cognitivepsychology, the unsatisfactory state of learning theory has recently evokedattempts at serious reconceptualization. One such attempt is Carl Bereiter's(1985) discussion on the 'learning paradox'. Another is Friedhart Klix's (1982)treatment of the evolutionary nature of learning processes. In an exemplarymanner, these two attempts manifest the qualitative difference - or theparadigmatic boundary - between cognitivism and the cultural-historicalapproach to human development. They do this in spite of their advanced strivingfor ecological validity, and precisely because of it. By stretching the limitsof cognitivism, attempts likethese make the limits visible.

Bereiter illustrates the 'learning paradox' asfollows.

"What needs explaining fromthe standpoint of the learning paradox is not only how the child learns to testtheories but also how the child acquires the theories to be tested. Statementsto the effect that the child 'learns from experience' (...) dodge the issue andare often not very plausible. Out of the infinitude of correspondences thatmight be noticed between one event and another, how does it happen thatchildren notice just those ones that make for simple theories about how theworld works - and that, furthermore, different children, with a consistency farbeyond chance, tend to notice the same correspondences?" (Bereiter 1985,204.)

The author then formulates the 'learning paradox' onthe metatheoretical and theoretical levels. Metatheoretically, the problem is"how can a structure generate another structure more complex thanitself?" Theoretically, the problem is "how can the development ofcomplex mental structures be accounted for by mechanisms that are notthemselves highly intelligent or richly endowed with knowledge?" In otherwords, how is progress toward higher levels of complexity possible withoutthere "already being some ladder or rope to climb on". (Bereiter 1985,204-205.)

Bereiter correctly points out that the learningparadox "descends with full force on those kinds of learning of centralconcern to educators (...) - thekinds of learning that lead to understanding core concepts of a discipline,mastering more powerful intellectual tools, and being able to use knowledgecritically and creatively" (Bereiter 1985, 202). He also notes thatproblems very similar to the learning paradox occur in efforts to explainintuition and creativity (Bereiter 1985, 205-206).

The author then proceeds to consider culture as anexplanation, offered notably by Vygotsky.

"Following Vygotsky (1978),for instance, one might formulate the following explanation: Learning does,indeed, depend on the prior existence of more complex cognitive structures, butthese more complex cognitive structures are situated in the culture, not in thechild. The child acquires them through interaction with adults, who help thechild do things that it could not do alone. Through such shared activities thechild internalizes the cognitive structures necessary to carry onindependently. Such an explanation, satisfying as it may appear, does noteliminate the learning paradox at all. The whole paradox lies in the word'internalizes.' How does internalization take place? (...) Solving that problemmeans confronting, not circumventing, the learning paradox." (Bereiter1985, 206.)

After this rather brief rebuttal to thecultural-historical approach, Bereiter goes on to present what he calls"10 theoretical principles that seem to hold promise as contributions to atheory of how bootstrapping can occur in cognitive development" (Bereiter1985, 208). At the core of the ten principles, there are 'field facilitation','imitation', 'learning support systems', and 'concrete behavior settings'. All these are actuallydifferent aspects of the idea of exploiting the 'more complex cognitivestructures situated in the culture', both in material artifacts and in patternsof social interaction. In other words, Bereiter is presenting a list ofpossible explanatory mechanisms that might account for the processes ofinternalization.

One is tempted to point out that a list is not atheory (especially as no attempt is made to "deal with the overlap orpotential connections among principles" [Bereiter 1985, 208]). One is alsotempted to point out that during the 50 years passed after Vygotsky'sdeath, voluminous work has beendone (and published even in English) by Vygotsky's followers - especially byLeont'ev, Luria, Gal'perin, El'konin, Davydov and Meshcheryakov - to grasptheoretically and practically the very essence of internalization. But thesearguments would be beside the point.

The heart of the matter is: Does the whole paradoxreally lie in the word 'internalizes'? Can the learning paradox really besolved by finding out how internalization takes place?

Here we find a curious anomaly in Bereiter'sdiscussion. On the one hand, he repeatedly speaks of the higher forms oflearning as 'creation'. But, on the other hand, creation for him seems to meanonly creation of new cognitive structures subjectively,'in the head' of the individual. Thus, learning is effectively reduced to internalization -even if internalization is considered as a process of creative restructuring.

Can creation really be understood as internalizationonly? If that be so, how can we explain the emergence and renewal of externalculture? Does it have nothing to do with learning? Or is it just a self-evidentconsequence or byproduct of internalization?

This is the first complex of questions motivating myquest in this chapter. To formulate the second complex, I now turn to thearticle of Friedhart Klix (1982).

A prelude may be mentioned first. A year before Klix published hisarticle, Pat Langley and Herbert Simon (1981, 378) argued that "assuming learning is invariant is a useful research strategy for theimmediate future" (italics in the original).

Klix starts out by questioning the assumption thatlearning is invariant, i.e., thatthe laws of learning are in principle the same in all organisms. He points outthat there are two qualitatively different broad classes of learningperformances in animals and man, namely the class of conditioning and theclass of reasoning or cognitivelearning. These originate ondifferent levels of evolution. In other words, learning processes are not anevolutionary invariant.

Within the class of conditioning, the subclasses ofhabituation, conditioned reflex and instrumental (operant) conditioning arementioned. Within reasoning, the subclasses of hypothesis formation, inductiveand deductive inferences, analogical reasoning and rule learning (heuristictechniques) are mentioned. The essential qualitative difference between the twobasic classes lies in the main information source for decision-making. Inconditioning, the source is "environmental properties". In reasoning, the source is "long-term-memoryproperties: concepts, relations, procedures" (Klix 1982, 389). In other words, "insight is notentirely mediated by perceptual information but rather based on mental orcognitive operations which become applied to stored knowledge" (Klix 1982,388). With cognitive learning, "an increasing independency of any specificenvironment comes into being"; cognitive learning is "nonspecializedadaptive behavior" (Klix 1982, 389).

According to Klix (1982, 386), "early modes ofinferential (or cognitive) learning may be found among pre-human primates", in limitedsense (hypothesis-checking) even among dogs. Thus, the class of reasoning or cognitive learning in noprincipled way distinguishes man from other mammals.

For the theoretical understanding and practicalmastery of human learning, it would be essential to know whether humans havesome evolutionary qualities that make their learning potentialitiesqualitatively different from those of other species. Klix's analysis indicatesthat this is not the case. It indicates that the essence of human (and of allcognitive) learning is just the fact that it is cognitive, that it relies onthe properties of long- term memory. To put it in simple terms, human learningis essentially learning 'within the head' of the individual - it often allowsthe individual to "predict and derive the right decision without any overtfalse trial" (Klix 1982, 388).

Is the evolution of learning essentially a story ofprogressively enlarged capacity for internal individual processing ofinformation? Is man finally leaving behind the restrictively specific influenceof environmental properties? Is man'scrucial feature simply the fact that he thinks more than hisevolutionary predecessors?

This is the second complex of problems. In order totackle the two complexes, I'll first consult P. I. Zinchenko for methdologicaladvice.

ZINCHENKO'S CONTRIBUTION

In 1939, P. I. Zinchenko published an importantlarge paper titled The Problem ofInvoluntary Memory. This work has immediate bearing on the analysis oflearning undertaken in the present chapter.

Zinchenko tackles the problem of the evolution ofmemory.

"The position that involuntarymemory is the first genetic stage in the development of memory is beyonddispute in both classical and contemporary psychology. In both the historicaldevelopment of human consciousness and the development of the child's consciousness,the initial forms of memory are involuntary. Of course, in animals, involuntarymemory is not merely the first but the only form of memory (...).

In spite of the extreme diversityof current views on the nature of memory, involuntary memory is consistentlycharacterized as mechanical memory. (...)Here, there is a division of memory into mechanical and logical forms, formsthat are understood as two sequential, genetic stages in the development ofmemory." (Zinchenko 1983-84, 56-57.)

Zinchenko argues that this kind of interpretation ofthe evolutionary nature of memory is fundamentally distorted and false. Itactually reproduces both of the two classical cul-de-sacs of traditional psychology. Firstly, it reproducesassociationism and mechanistic materialism by treating involuntary memory assomething purely mechanical and physiological. Secondly, it reproducesintellectualism and idealism by treating voluntary memory as something purelylogical and mental.

To overcome this position, it is necessary to graspthat involuntary memory is not the same as mechanical memory. Involuntarymemory may be defined as follows.

"It is characterized by thefact that remembering occurs within an action of a different nature, anaction that has a definite task, goal and motive and a definite significancefor the subject, but that is not directly oriented toward the task ofremembering." (Zinchenko 1983-84, 77.)

Examples of involuntary memory are common ineveryday situations: we remember many things which are embedded in some for ussignificant actions without ever consciously trying to remember them. Accordingto Zinchenko, "none of these forms of memory can be reduced to the laws ofassociative or conditioned-reflex connections, since these are always externalto the actual content of the action" (Zinchenko 1983-84, 77). In otherwords, involuntary remembering changes and develops along with changes in thenature of the subject's activity, of the actions within which it occurs. It isliterally a byproduct and byprocess - but not a simple and mechanical one.

Correspondingly, even though voluntary memory isclearly a later and thus higher evolutionary form, it is by no meansnecessarily logical or non-mechanical. Voluntary remembering is simply aspecial action devoted to remembering; "the subject is consciously awareof the object of the action as an object of remembering" (Zinchenko1983-84, 78). As a matter of fact, voluntary memory quite often takes the formof mechanical memorizing.

"In our view, what is referredto as mechanical memory is not a stage in the genesis of memory: it is aspecial form of memory that tends to occur when conditions make it difficultfor the subject to carry out the meaningful activity required in a particularsituation. The resulting memory is 'mechanical' in the sense that an object isremembered under conditions in which its meaning or significance is notapparent to the subject. It is important to emphasize, though, that even thiskind of memory is psychological rather than physiological. It is not, in thefinal analysis, 'nonmeaningful'; and it is not a function of mechanicalimpressions made on a passive subject. It is the result of the subject'sactivity, activity that realizes the subject's relationship to a given object.When remembering is mechanical, however, this relationship is not adequate tothe situation in which the activity is carried out." (Zinchenko 1983-84,108-109.)

Similarly, so called 'logical memory', employinglogical operations, may be either voluntary or involuntary.

Zinchenko sums up his article with a mercilessverdict.

"The division of memory intomechanical and logical forms, as if these were two genetically consecutivestages, is false. This perspective is linked to a tendency to identify andcontrast the mental and the physiological, a tendency to indentify and contrastthe essence of mind and its material basis." (Zinchenko 1983-84, 108.)

There are three important lessons to be drawn fromZinchenko's contribution.

Firstly, the manner in which Klix treats theevolution of learning matches perfectly with the criteria of false analysisworked out by Zinchenko. In evolutionary terms, it is illegitimate to treatearlier or lower types of learning as 'conditioning' and later or higher typesas 'reasoning'. Various forms of reasoning are to be found in quite earlyevolutionary forms of learning - and vice versa (a point partially demonstratedby Klix himself).

Secondly, in evolutionary terms, the initial form oflearning is that of incidental (orinvoluntary) learning operations whichtake place as a tacit and casual byproduct and byprocess of other activitiesand actions. Conscious, goal-directedlearning actions are a laterand higher formation (though I would not go so far as to restrict them to the humanspecies only; a reservation substantiated in Chapter 3).

Thirdly, to understand the structure and dynamics ofdifferent forms of learning, whether incidental or conscious, we have to studythem as parts or aspects of concrete historical activities with specifiablesubjects, objects and instruments,within specifiable contexts.

The third lesson implies that we must have someconceptual means with which activities can be analyzed. The next sections aimat deriving such conceptual means. Only after that we can return to theanalysis of learning.

THE TRIANGLES OF ACTIVITY

In the 19th century, philosophy, biology and socialsciences experienced fundamental conceptual and methodological breakthroughswhich were more or less directly intertwined with the huge development of theproductive forces and global commerce through industrial capitalism. Inphilosophy, the breakthrough was realized above all by Hegel. In biology, itwas realized by Darwin. And in social sciences, it was realized by Marx.

Two fundamental features are evident in thesebreakthroughs. Firstly, they meant that organism andenvironment, man and society, were no more seen as separate entities but asintegral systems within which retroactive causality and internal dynamictransitions prevail. Secondly, thesebreakthroughs meant that organism and environment, man and society, could nomore be understood as stable, unchanging entities but only as somethingcharacterized by qualitative transformations requiring a historicalperspective.

Each of the three breakthroughs had its specificcontent and impact. In the most general terms, Hegel's contribution may be summarized as follows.

"Basing himself on the solidnational tradition (the German enlightenment, Kant, Fichte, Schelling), Hegelfrom the outset links the activeness of human consciousness not with thepeculiarities of man's bodily, natural organisation, but with the process ofeach individual's active assimilation of the spiritual wealth accumulated by previous history, and with therealisation of what he has assimilated in his own activity that overcomes theresistance of object." (Mikhailov 1980, 87.)

Hegel was the first philosopher to draw attention tothe role of material, productive activity and the instruments of labor in thedevelopment of knowledge. He clearly enunciated the theory that individualconsciousness is formed under the influence of knowledge accumulated by societyand objectified in the world of things created by humanity.

"The individual possessesconsciousness (spirit) insofar as the spirit of history has possessed him,insofar as history acts in him and through him." (Mikhailov 1980, 92; fora recent interpretation of Hegel's psychological importance, see Markov‡ 1982.)

It was Charles Darwin who laid the naturalscientific, empirical foundation for the systemic and historical conception ofman.

"By coordinating the opposingforces of internal structure and external environment, Darwin eliminated theneed to appeal to supernatural forces in scientific explanation. He created thefirst powerful model of a natural, self-contained system that changedprogressively." (Richards, Armon & Commons 1984, xx.)

As Howard Gruber (1974, 71) notes in his excellent Darwin on Man, Marx and Engels greeted The Origin of Species enthusiastically when it appeared.Marx and Engels brought together the insights of Hegel and Darwin. More thanthat, they put forward a conception where man was not only a product ofevolution and an assimilator of culture but a creator and transformer.

"The chief defect of allprevious materialism (...) is that things [Gegenstand],reality, sensuousness are conceived only in the form of the object, or of contemplation, but not as sensuous human activity, practice, not subjectively. Hence, in contradistinctionto materialism, the active side was set forth abstractly byidealism - which, of course, does not know real, sensuous activity as such.(...)

The materialist doctrine concerningthe changing of circ*mstances and upbringing forgets that circ*mstances arechanged by men and that the educator must himself be educated. This doctrinemust, therefore, divide society into two parts, one of which is superior tosociety.

The coincidence of the changing ofcirc*mstances and of human activity or self-change can be conceived andrationally understood only as revolutionarypractice." (Marx 1976,615-616.)

These famous lines from Thesis on Feuerbach setthe standard for my further inquiry. The problem is that the human sciences ofthe 20th century, especially psychology and education, have not yet met thechallenge of constructing coherent theoretical instruments for grasping andbringing about processes where 'circ*mstances are changed by men and theeducator himself is educated'.Yet, as Bibler (1970, 157)points out, the conceptual upheaval foreseen by Hegel and Marx "nowtakes hold of productive activity in general, becomes a logicalnecessity".

Though the challenge of the 19th centurybreakthroughs has not been met yet, it has been faced and dealt with by certainlineages of thought in the 20th century. These lineages have taken seriouslythe idea of man as a systemic and historical being. On this basis, they have produced attempts at modelling thebasic structure of human activity.

I'll restrain my search for a viable root model ofhuman activity with the following initial delimitations. First, activity must be pictured in its simplest, genetically original structural form, asthe smallest unit that still preserves the essential unity and quality behindany complex activity.

Second, activity must be analyzable in its dynamics and transformations, in itsevolution and historical change. No static or eternal models will do.

Third, activity must be analyzable as a contextual orecological phenomenon. The models will have to concentrate on systemicrelations between the individual and the outside world.

Fourth, specifically human activity must be analyzable asculturally mediated phenomenon. No dyadic organism-environment models willsuffice. This requirement stems already from Hegel's insistence on the culturally mediated, triadic or triangular structure of human activity.

The first delimitation excludes, among othertheories, the work of Habermas from the present discussion. Instead of theoriginal inner unity, Habermas takes the division of action into labor andinteraction as his starting point (see Giddens 1982).

The last delimitation makes it unnecessary, forexample, to consider here Piaget's concept of activity (see Piaget 1977 andGallagher 1978; for insightful criticism see especially Damerow 1980; Wartofsky1983).

Prerequisites for a theory of human activity thatfulfill these four requirements may be found in three broad researchtraditions. The first one is the theorizing on signs, meanings and knowledge,beginning with Peirce* and extending through Ogden and Richards all the way toPopper's evolutionary epistemology. The second one is the study of the genesisof intersubjectivity, founded by G. H. Mead and finding continuity in studies of infantcommunication and language development. And the third one is thecultural-historical school of psychology, starting with Vygotsky and maturingin Leont'ev. In all these theories, the concept of mediation, of thirdness ortriangularity, is seen as the constitutive feature of human activity. This ideais frequently expressed, developed and applied in the form of graphic models.

The First Lineage: From Peirce to Popper

C. S. Peirce, one of the founders of semiotics,built his theory of mediation on the idea of a triadic relationship between anobject, a mental interpretant and a sign.

______

*) For the sake of clarity,Peirce's excessive and often opaque work (see Peirce 1931-1935) is herediscussed only through the concise but balanced interpretation of Parmentier(1985); see also the related volume of Pharies (1984).

"A Sign, or Representamen, is a First which stands in such a genuine triadicrelation to a Second, called its Object, as to be capable of determining a Third,called its Interpretant, to assumethe same triadic relation to its object in which it stands itself to the sameObject." (Peirce 1902, cited in Parmentier 1985, 27.)

The triadic relation is not reducible to independentdyads. Otherwise, the dynamic character of the triad is destroyed and"there is no interpretation or representation by the resultant moment ofthe earlier moment; no symbolic or conventional relations exist among theelements; and no thought, idea, or meaning is embodied and transmitted in theprocess" (Parmentier 1985, 26).

There are two vectors in this dynamism. First, thereis the vector of representation pointing from the sign and interpretanttoward the object. Second, there is the vector of determination pointingfrom the object toward both sign and interpretant.

"This interlocking of thevectors of representation and determination implies that the three elements inthe sign relation are never permanently object, representamen, andinterpretant, but rather each shifts roles as further determinations andrepresentations are realized. (...) Semiosis is, thus, an 'infinite process' oran 'endless series' in which the interpretant approaches a true representationof the object as further determinations are accumulated in each moment."(Parmentier 1985, 29.)

Besides purely logical and linguistic entities,Peirce applied his conception to human actions, too.

"In all action governed byreason such genuine triplicity will be found; while purely mechanical actionstake place between pairs of particles. A man gives a brooch to his wife. Themerely mechanical part of the act consists of his laying the brooch down whileuttering certain sounds, and her taking it up. There is no genuine triplicityhere; but there is no giving either. The giving consists in his agreeing that acertain intellectual principle shall govern the relations of the brooch to hiswife. The merchant in the Arabian Nights threw away a datestone which struckthe eye of a Jinnee. This was purely mechanical, and there was no genuinetriplicity. The throwing and the striking were independent of one another. Buthas he aimed at the Jinnee's eye, there would have been more than merelythrowing away the stone. There would have been genuine triplicity, the stonebeing not merely thrown, but thrown at the eye. Here, intention, the mind's action, would have come in. Intellectualtriplicity, or Mediation, is my third category." (Peirce 1902, cited inParmentier 1985, 41.)

This citation reveals the first fundamental problemin Peirce's conception. Themediating sign is here, in the context of human action, treated as somethingpurely mental and intentional. It thus loses its potentially anti-Cartesian,cultural quality and reverts to individualism and rationalism.

"Although Peirce often madeclear that his notion of representation included everything, mental as well asnonmental, that possesses attributes, he gave little attention to the sensibleor material qualities of signs in the nonmental category, or what he latertermed the representamen. In fact, the need for some 'medium of outwardexpression' is admitted only as something that may be necessary to translate a'thought-sign' to another person; and these material qualities are, inthemselves, only a residue of nonsemiotic properties of the sign that play nopositive role in the sign's representative function." (Parmentier 1985,33.)

The second problem in Peirce's thought becamedominant toward the end of his productive career. This problem is the strictseparation of the form from the content of the signs and the exclusive interestin the pure form. The contents inno way contributed to the determination of the form, and sign forms became"blind vehicles for communicating meanings that they do notinfluence" (Parmentier 1985, 45).

In their seminal work on the meaning of meaning,Ogden and Richards (1923) present the following diagram (Figure 2.1) as theirpoint of departure.

Figure 2.1: Meaning as the triad of thoughts, wordsand things (Ogden & Richards 1923, 11).

The authors point out the specific nature of thebottom line of the triangle, i.e., the relation between symbol (word) andreferent (thing).

"Between the symbol and thereferent there is no relevant relation other than the indirect one, whichconsists in its being used by someone to stand for a referent. Symbol andReferent, that is to say, are not connected directly (...) but only indirectlyround the two sides of the triangle." (Ogden & Richards 1923, 11-12.)

This means that there is no direct correspondence betweenthe symbol and the thing it symbolizes, or between words and things. Theirrelation is always constructed by man and thus historicallychanging.

"We shall find, however, thatthe kind of simplification typified by this once universal theory of directmeaning relations between words and things is the source of almost all thedifficulties which thought encounters." (Ogden & Richards 1932, 12.)

So meanings are constructions. The construction ofmeaning is the specifically human type of activity.

But Ogden and Richards, much in the manner ofPeirce, conceive of the construction of the relation between symbol andreferent purely and exclusively as a thoughtprocess, as a mental act of the individual. Furthermore, they see meaning embeddedand embodied exclusively in symbols and language, not in material things andartifacts in general. This renders them rather helpless at the face of theproblem of the origination of thought, symbols and language.

It is also symptomatic that Ogden and Richards restrictthe indirect, mediated nature to the bottom line of the triangle. The other tworelations, that between thought and symbol and that between thought and thing,are seen as "more or less direct" (Ogden & Richards 1923, 11).

Can these two relations really be direct? Considerfirst the relation between thought and symbol. Symbols are socio-historicallyproduced and transmitted artifacts. They are abstracted and generalized fromthe production and use of material tools and objects. The relation of an individual to a symbol appears direct. But the cultural development of symbols can never be understood in directindividual terms. It is a super-individual, collective process, based on themediated, indirect interaction of subjects with symbols via objects(referents). Also the individual grasp and use of symbols originate from practical encounters with the world ofobjects which the symbols represent and stem from.

This origination of words and symbols from practicalmaterial actions is pointed out by Malinowski in his supplement to the book ofOgden and Richards.

"Thus, when a savage learns tounderstand the meaning of a word, this process is not accomplished byexplanations, by a series of acts of apperception, but by learning to handleit. A word means to a native the proper use of thething for which it stands (...)." (Malinowski 1923, 321.)

"The real knowledge of a wordcomes through the practice of appropriately using it within a certainsituation. The word, like any man-made implement, becomes significant onlyafter it has been used and properly used under all sorts of conditions."(Malinowski 1923, 325.)

Historically and theoretically this theme has beenelaborated by Leont'ev (1981, especially 219-220), Leroi-Gourhan (1980,especially 147-153) and Tran DucThao (1984). Within cognitive psychology, David McNeill (1985) has recentlydiscussed the common origins of gestures and speech. The most convincingexperimental material is provided by Meshcheryakov (1979) from his work withthe education of deaf-blind children. Meshcheryakov's reappraisal of HelenKeller's development, often characterized as the unfolding of the innerspiritual essence dormant within, isrefreshing in its own right.

"By the time her teacherappeared on the scene Helen could find her way about the house easily, also inthe orchard, vegetable garden and the whole of the immediate vicinity of thehouse. She was familiar with many household objects, kitchen utensils andgarden implements, she knew what many of the objects around her were used forand was able to use them properly. She used a well-developed language ofgestures which she made wide and systematic use of (...). Indeed, there aredefinite grounds for maintaining that Helen Keller's first teacher was thelittle black girl Martha Washington. It was she who first began to break downthe wall isolating the little deaf-blind girl, and it was thanks to her contactwith Martha that Helen started to evolve her language of gestures. It should bepointed out that neither Anne Sullivan, nor those specialists who laterattempted to analyse Helen's instruction from the psychological angle, attachedany particular, let alone decisive importance to this period of Helen'slife." (Mescheryakov 1979, 60.)

The relation between thought and thing may beanalyzed in a similar vein. Things are not just there, to be thought about andreferred to. They are produced and used by human beings in their collectivelife activities, in their practice. This does not take place directly butalways with the (visible or invisible) help of symbols, i.e., of tools andmodels, concerning the qualities and behavior of the things. Again, as we lookat an individual referring to a material object, it appears that he or she hasa direct relation to that object. But the referring is always done with somemeans - gestures, pictures, words, other objects, - which must be communicableand understandable to at least some other individuals. The act is not direct,not even when it proceeds automatically. The mediating cultural instrument isthere, whether the subject is conscious of it or not.

In the triangle of Ogden and Richards, the primemover is the uppermost corner, the thought. But the subject not only - and notprimarily - thinks. Above all, he or she acts practically, molds the materialenvironment. And the subject does this co-operatively, not alone.

Among modern epistemological theories, Karl Popper's(1972) conception of the three worlds is certainly the most well-known versionof triplicity. The basic position is the following.

"First, there is the physicalworld - the universe of physical entities (...); this I will call'World 1'.Second, there is the world of mental states, including states of consciousnessand psychological dispositions and unconscious states; this I will call 'World2'. But there is also a third such world, the world of thecontents of thought, and, indeed, of the products of the human mind; this Iwill call 'World 3'(...)." (Popper & Eccles 1977, 38.)

In his World 3, Popper includes stories, explanatorymyths, tools, scientific theories, scientific problems, social instutions, andworks of art. These entities may and often do exist in material form. But thematerial aspect is not essential. World 3 entities can also exist in a nonmaterial,unembodied form. The prime example of such entities are scientific and other problem situations. Problem situations, according toPopper, exist objectively within the mass of knowledge, regardless of whethermen have become conscious of them or not. The task is to discover them. Poppercontends that grasping World 3 objects is totally independent of the materialembodiments of those objects.

"Both (...) theories and theirlogical relations are World 3 objects, and in general it makes no difference,neither to their character as World 3 objects nor to our World 2 grasp of them,whether or not these objects are embodied. Thus a not yet discovered and notyet embodied logical problem situation may prove decisive for our thoughtprocesses, and may lead to actions with repercussions in the physical World 1,for example to a publication." (Popper & Eccles 1977, 46.)

But certainly even problems and logicalpossibilities have to be fixed in some kind of language. Popper readily admitsthis. But still these entities are unembodied - because language itself is.

"Language is non-material, and appears in the most varied physical shapes - that is tosay, in the form of very different systems of physical sounds." (Popper& Eccles 1977, 49; italics added.)

In other words, Popper insists on the absoluteseparation of content and form, of the immaterial substance and the materialvehicle, much in the manner of the late Peirce (whom he considers to be"one of the greatest philosophers of all time" [Popper 1972, 212]).Time and again, this leads him to statements upholding the independent anddiscrete nature of each of the three worlds. Again, Helen Keller's developmentis a case in point.

"All normal men speak; andspeech is of the utmost importance for them; so much so that even a deaf, dumband blind little girl like Helen Keller acquired with enthusiasm, and speedily,a substitute for speech through which she obtained a real mastery of theEnglish language and of literature. Physically, her language was vastly differentfrom spoken English; but it had a one-to-one correspondence with written orprinted English. There can be no doubt that she would have acquired any otherlanguage in place of English. Her urgentthough unconscious need was for language - language in the abstract." (Popper & Eccles 1977, 49;italics added.)

Would Popper hold that even Helen Keller's early,gestural language, with its inseparably intertwined earthly contents and forms,was 'immaterial'? Probably.

According to Popper (1972, 155), "the threeworlds are so related that the first two can interact, and that the last twocan interact". In other words, he postulates discontinuous relationsbetween the three worlds. He reduces the triangle into two dyads - something that Peirce consideredlegitimate only within the sphere of purely mechanical actions, such as themovement of billiard balls (Parmentier 1985, 25-26).

This dyadic reductionism actually destroys theintended interactionist or systemic character of Popper's theory. Instead of mediationas real practical movement, as activity, we have three worlds living theirautonomous lives and entering into the familiar dualistic subject-object relations with one of the other worlds at the time. Thus,the theories of World 3 not only exist but also act autonomously, "theycreate new, unintended and unexpected problems, autonomous problems, problemsto be discovered" (Popper 1972, 161). In other words, problem situationsare situated - one could say stored - in World 3.

From the point of view of activity, this makes nosense. Problem situations are not statically situated or stored, they arerather one essential form of themovement of the triangle, beingconstructed and appearing in and between all the three 'corners'.

Popper does speak of activity - "the activity of understanding consists, essentially, in operatingwith third-world objects" (Popper1972, 164). This dyadic conception fails to explain how World 3 objects are created. Understanding becomes receptiveintellectualism, not just in the ordinary sense of being detached from World 1,but in the more important sense of being unable to grasp practically theproductive nature of the continuous triplicity of activity.

The biologist and epistemologist R. C. Lewontincogently summarizes Popper's position of 'evolutionary epistemology'.

"For Popper, science andnature, the individual and the real world, are each alienated from the other(...). Each has its autonomous processes. The external world is in part a fixedreality with eternal laws of nature, but in part evolves by physical processesof cosmic and terrestrial evolution. (...) Living beings, on the other hand,have an autonomous process of variation, the throwing up of novelties, of'conjectures'. Their generation has no particular connection with externalnature, except, of course, that they are manifestations of universal molecularand physical forces. The autonomous variation of organisms and the autonomousstates of external nature are then connected to each other by a unidirectionalprocess in which the organism adapts to outer nature by the differentialsurvival of variations. So, too, individual psyches generate conjecturalnovelties which are then refuted by the outer world." (Lewontin 1982,163-164.)

What remains after the critique? The first lineageleading to the theory of activity has provided us with the fundamental idea of knowledge and meaning as mediatedconstruction. Even Poppertestifies to that.

"According to my view, we mayunderstand the grasping of a World 3 object as an active process. We have toexplain it as the making, the re-creation, of that object. In order tounderstand a difficult Latin sentence, we have to construe it: to see how it ismade, and to re-construct it, to re-make it." (Popper & Eccles 1977,44.)

But the theories of the first lineage narrow humanactivity down to individual intellectual understanding. They provide littlecues for grasping how material culture is created in joint activity.

The Second Lineage: From Mead to Trevarthen

The second lineage toward the theory of activity wasinitiated by G. H. Mead's 'social behaviorism'. Mead's theory was aimed atovercoming individualism and intellectualism.

"We are not, in socialpsychology, building up the behavior of the social group in terms of thebehavior of the separate individuals composing it; rather, we are starting outwith a given social whole of complex group activity, into which we analyze (aselements) the behavior of each of theseparate individual composing it. (...)

In social psychology we get at thesocial process from the inside as well as from the outside. Social psychologyis behavioristic in the sense of starting off with an observable activity - thedynamic, on-going social process, and the social acts which are its componentelements - to be studied and analyzed scientifically. But it is notbehavioristic in the sense of ignoring the inner experience of the individual -the inner phase of that process or activity. On the contrary, it isparticularly concerned with the rise of such experience within the process as awhole. It simply works from theoutside to the inside instead of from the inside to the outside (...)."(Mead 1934, 7-8.)

Mead's approach is commonly called 'symbolicinteractionism' or theory of 'symbol-mediated interaction' (Joas 1980). Onecentral tenet of this approach is the priority of social objects and socialconsciousness to physical objects.

"The social process, asinvolving communication, is in a sense responsible for the appearance of newobjects in the field of experience of the individual organisms implicated inthat process. Organic processes or responses in a sense constitute the objectsto which they are responses; that is to say, any given biological organism isin a sense responsible for the existence (in the sense of the meanings theyhave for it) of the objects to which it physiologically and chemicallyresponds. There would, for example, be no food - no edible objects - if therewere no organisms which could digest it. And similarly, the social process in asense constitutes the objects to which it responds, or to which it is anadjustment. That is to say, objects are constituted in terms of meanings withinthe social process of experience and behavior through the mutual adjustment toone another of the responses or actions of the various individual organismsinvolved in that process, an adjustment made possible by means of acommunication which takes the form of a conversation of gestures in the earlierevolutionary stages of that process, and of language in its later stages."(Mead 1934, 77.)

This social, interactive construction of physicalobjects takesplace through symbols.

"Symbolization constitutesobjects not constituted before , objects which would not exist except for thecontext of social relationships wherein symbolization occurs. Language does notsimply symbolize a situation or object which is already there in advance; itmakes possible the existence or appearance of that situation or object, for itis a part of the mechanism whereby that situation or object is created. Thesocial process relates the responses of one individual to the gestures ofanother, as the meanings of the latter, and is thus responsible for the riseand existence of new objects in the social situation, objects dependent upon orconstituted by these meanings." (Mead 1934, 78.)

Thus, a triadic definition of meaning is worked out.

"This threefold or triadicrelation between gesture, adjustive response, and resultant of the social actwhich the gesture initiates is the basis of meaning; for the existence ofmeaning depends upon the fact that the adjustive response of the secondorganism is directed toward the resultant of the given social act as initiatedand indicated by the gesture of the first organism. The basis of meaning isthus objectively there in social conduct, or in nature in its relation to suchconduct." (Mead 1934, 80.)

Now there seem to be four basic elements in Mead'sreasoning about activity: the individual, the other(s), the symbol, and theobject. The intriguing question is that of the origin of symbols. According toMead, symbols grow out of gestures.

"The primitive situation isthat of the social act which involves the interaction of different forms, whichinvolves, therefore, the adjustment of the conduct of these different forms toeach other, in carrying out the social process. Within that process one canfind what we term the gestures, those phases of the act which bring about theadjustment of the response of the other form. (...)

The vocal gesture becomes asignificant symbol (...) when it has the same effect on the individual makingit that it has on the individual to whom it is addressed or who explicitlyresponds to it, and thus involves a reference to the self of the individualmaking it. The gesture in general, and the vocal gesture in particular,indicates some object or other within the field of social behavior, an object of common interest to all theindividuals involved in the given social act thus directed toward or upon thatobject. The function of the gesture is to make adjustment possible among theindividuals implicated in any given social act with reference to the object orobjects with which that act is concerned; and the significant gesture orsignificant symbol affords far greater facilities for such adjustment andreadjustment than does the non-significant gesture (...)." (Mead 1934,45-46.)

But where do gestures come from? For Mead, they aresomething originally given in both human and animal behavior. However,significant or conscious gestures are found only among humans (Mead 1934, 81).How these significant or conscious gestures arise is not explained.

It is instructive to compare Mead's conception withthose of Leont'ev and Tran Duc Thao. These authors agree with Mead on theconstructed nature of objects. But they disagree with Mead on theinterpretation of construction as mere communication and symbolization. Forthem, the construction of objects is above all sensuous, material constructionby means of tools, i.e., production. Communication and symbolization are seenas derivative, though organically intertwined aspects of production.

According to Leont'ev, conscious gestures originatedas people experienced that even when a work movement did not lead to itspractical result for some reason or other, it was still capable of affectingothers involved in production. It could, for example, draw them into thefulfilment of a given action.

"Movements thus arose thatpreserved the form of the corresponding work movements but lacked practicalcontact with the object, and consequently also lacked the effort that convertedthem into real work movements. These movements, together with the vocal soundsthat accompanied them, were separated from the tasks of acting on an object,and separated from labour activity, and preserved in themselves only thefunction of acting on people, the function of speech intercourse. In otherwords, they were converted into gestures. A gesture is nothing else than amovement separated from its result, i.e. not applied to the object at which itis aimed." (Leontyev 1981, 219.)

Tran Duc Thao elaborates this line of reasoning indetail. He sees the precursor of language in the prehominid indicative sign.

"(...) most likely from the verybeginning of the prehominid development, in the cognizance of the indicativesign, the original form of the circular arc gesture was transmuted into thestraight line form. Yet if, by virtue of the excitation of collective work, thestraight line indicative gesture is prolonged for an instant, the prehominid necessarily follows theobject in its motion: forexample, the game that is fleeing or falls down, or the bone fragment or pieceof wood which pierces the animal like a beak or a dagger. The gestural signdeveloped in this way is reinforced each time by a diffuse sound, ofemotional origin, but which is now related to the tendential image projected bythe gesture, and in this way obtains value as a word with an objectivemeaning: 'this here in a motion in the form of distancing,overturning, piercing', etc. (...) It is evident that the communication of sucha meaning content allows a coordination of collective labor by far superior tothe simple concentration of the forces of the group on the object indicated asthe 'this here!'." (Tran Duc Thao 1984, 56.)

Both Leont'ev and Tran Duc Thao stress the geneticconnection of gestures andtool-mediated work on material objects. Their point of departure is theoriginal unity of instrumental and communicative aspects of activity.Therefore, signs and symbols are seen as derivative instruments of productiveactivity which necessarily has an interactive, communicative form. For Mead,the original situation is that of interaction, of a 'social process' with onlysecondary and abstract presence of material objects. For him, symbols are notprimarily instruments for mastering tool-mediated procedures on objects.

"A symbol is nothing but thestimulus whose response is given in advance. That is all we mean by a symbol.There is a word, and a blow. The blow is the historical antecedent of the word,but if the word means an insult, the response is one now involved in the word,something given in the very stimulus itself. That is all that is meant by asymbol. Now, if that response can be given in terms of an attitude utilized forthe further control of action, then the relation of that stimulus and attitudeis what we mean by a significant symbol." (Mead 1934, 181.)

Control of action means here control of interactionbetween people. Objects to be worked on and molded into useful artifacts bymeans of instruments play anaccidental role, if any.

Mead does discuss material production. He takes itup toward the end of his Mind, Self, and Society (1934, 248-249; 363). He points outthat human act "has this implemental stage that comes between the actualconsummation and the beginning of the act" (Mead 1934, 248). The humanhand is the fundamental tool and implement of material production. Mead (1934,363) appreciates its cognitive importance by noting that "man's manualcontacts, intermediate between the beginnings and the ends of his acts, providea multitude of different stimuli to a multitude of different ways of doingthings, and thus invite alternative impulses to express themselves in theaccomplishment of his acts, when obstacles and hindrances arise".

But this instrumental line of thought remains moreor less a separate sidetrack in Mead's work. Communicative and instrumentalaspects of activity do not form a unified system. Their interrelations are notworked out in any recognizable manner.

Hans Joas, a connoisseur and proponent of Mead'slegacy, has one important reservation concerning the theory of symbol-mediatedinteraction, namely "that Mead's concept of action is oriented too muchtoward a model of adaptive intercourse and too little towardobjectification and materialproduction of the new" (Joas 1980, 231). It's easy to sympathize with thisassessment. However, it is hardly a question of 'too much' or 'too little'.What is lacking are dynamic relationships between the two.

Mead's ideas have experienced a revival in recentresearch on infants' communicativedevelopment (see Lock 1978; Bullowa 1979). One of the most inventive attempts in this direction is thework of Colwyn Trevarthen on what he calls secondary intersubjectivity in smallchildren.

According to Trevarthen, a fundamental qualitativechange takes place in human communication about 40 weeks after birth, wellbefore speech begins.

"The most important feature ofthe new behaviour at 9 months is (...) its systematically combining ofinterests of the infant in the physical, privately-known reality near him, andhis acts of communication addressed to persons. A deliberately sought sharingof experiences about events and things is achieved for the first time. Beforethis, objects are perceived and used, and persons are communicated with - butthese two kinds of intention are expressed separately. Infants under 9 monthsshare themselves with others but not their knowledge or intentions aboutthings." (Trevarthen & Hubley 1978, 184.)

The authors point out that "once freeinteraction between communicative and praxic modes of action is achieved, theinfant suddenly shows behaviour that is unique to man in its complexity"(Trevarthen & Hubley 1978, 213-214).This formation of secondary intersubjectivity links "mother, infant and object on an equal plane of importance" (Trevarthen & Hubley 1978, 214;italics added). This is illustrated with the help of a series of diagrams(Figure 2.2). Halliday (1975) and Nelson (1979) present analysis in similar lines, thoughlocating the co-ordination of the social and object spheres at later points inontogenesis.

Figure 2.2: Primary and secondary intersubjectivityexemplified (adapted from Trevarthen & Hubley 1978, 215)

Primary intersubjectivity: (A)Communicating: baby and mother interact face-to-face; no interest in object.(B) Acting on an object: baby acts; mother watches.

Secondary intersubjectivity: (A)Baby gives object and shows pleasure when it is accepted. (B) Fullperson-person-object fluency, e.g. mother shows baby how to do a task (1+2),baby accepts (3+4), then looks at mother and both are pleased (5+6).

The transition from primary to secondaryintersubjectivity takes place through games, described in detail by Trevarthen.Trevarthen's results seem to establish something that was lacking in Mead,namely the relationship between communicative and instrumental aspects ofactivity. But here we should hesitate for a moment. Trevarthen speaks about apraxic mode of action, not about an instrumental one. As a matter of fact, hegives no serious consideration to the role of instruments or tools as somethingessentially different from and yet intrinsically related to the objects they are applied upon. Inthis respect, Trevarthen's model of secondary intersubjectivity is entirelycompatible with Mead's conception of intersubjectivity.

There is, however, another element which Mead considersessential but which is not incorporated in Trevarthen's model - the symbol.Symbols represent for Mead the universal or public dimension of interaction. Aswe saw, they are dissociated from instruments and procedures of materialproduction - but they are definitely societal and historical. Thissocio-historical aspect is no more present in Trevarthen's model.

John R. Morss's recent critique of the basicassumptions of what he calls the neo-Meadian school is interesting against thisbackground. According to Morss, the neo-Meadians have a fundamentally flawedinterpretation of Mead's theory.

"Mead places great emphasis onthe 'generalised other' as the personification of group values, but it must beemphasised that this entity is a highly abstract one. As in early role-playing,social meaning is not tied to specific individual others:the generalised other is actually a general other. Mead's concern is thereforewith the individual in his relationships with a community, not with specificother individuals. The neo-Meadian emphasis on dyadic interaction in general,and on the mother-infant dyad in particular, thus deviates radically from Mead.(...) the neo-Meadian view does not appear to question the equation of 'social'with 'interpersonal' (nor, indeed, the reduction of 'interpersonal' to'dyadic')." (Morss 1985, 168.)

Morss argues that this reduction leads to a view ofknowledge opposite to that of the original Mead. For Mead, the social characterof knowledge meant that knowledge is above all public, impersonal. For theneo-Meadians, the social character of knowledge means that knowledge isinterpersonal.

"That is, it can beinterpreted to require fully cognisant individuals who set out to establishcontact with one another. Interpersonalism in this sense is merely anelaboration of personalism - as it were, a pluralistic personalism."(Morss 1985, 171; see also the ensuing debate between Shotter 1986 and Morss1986.)

This means that the neo-Meadians end up in a newversion in individualism or privatismas they tacitly set aside the truly societal, public dimension of Mead'stheory.

If the first lineage from Peirce to Popper providedus with the idea of activity as individual construction of knowledge, what hasthe second lineage to offer? Mead obviously extends the picture, giving us thesocial, interactive, symbol-mediated construction of reality. But thisconstruction is still conceived of as construction-for-the-mind, not aspractical material construction.

The Third Lineage: From Vygotsky to Leont'ev

In 1930, L. S. Vygotsky, the founder of the Sovietcultural-historical school of psychology, sketched his idea of mediation asfollows.

"Every elementary form ofbehavior presupposes direct reaction to the task set before theorganism (which can be expressed with the simple S - R formula). But thestructure of sign operations requires an intermediate link between the stimulusand the response. This intermediate link is a second order stimulus (sign) thatis drawn into the operation where it fulfills a special function; it creates anew relation between S and R. The term 'drawn into' indicates that anindividual must be actively engaged in establishing such a link. The sign alsopossesses the important characteristic of reverse action (that is, it operateson the individual, not the environment).

Consequently, the simplestimulus-response process is replaced by a complex, mediated act, which wepicture as:

(Figure 2.3: The structure of the mediated act[Vygotsky 1978, 40])

In this new process the directimpulse to react is inhibited, and an auxiliary stimulus that facilitates thecompletion of the operation by indirect means is incorporated.

Careful studies demonstrate thatthis type of organization is basic to all higher psychological processes,although in much more sophisticated forms than that shown above. Theintermediate link in this formula is not simply a method of improving thepreviously existing operation, nor is a mere additional link in an S-R chain.Because this auxiliary stimulus possesses the specific function of reverseaction, it transfers the psychological operation to higher and qualitativelynew forms and permits humans, by the aid of extrinsic stimuli, to control their behavior from theoutside. The use of signsleads humans to a specific structure of behavior that breaks away frombiological development and creates new forms of a culturally-basedpsychological process."(Vygostky 1978, 39-40.)

Vygotsky distinguished between two interrelatedtypes of mediating instruments in human activity: tools and signs. The latterbelonged to the broader category of 'psychological tools'.

"The tool's function is toserve as the conductor of human influence on the object of activity; it is externally oriented; it must lead to changes in objects. Itis a means by which a human external activity is aimed at mastering, andtriumphing over, nature." (Vygotsky 1978, 55.)

Psychological tools have a different character.

"They are directed toward themastery or control of behavioral processes - someone else's or one's own - justas technical means are directed toward the control of processes of nature.

The following can serve as examplesof psychological tools and their complex systems: language; various systems forcounting; mnemonic techniques; algebraic symbol systems; works of art; writing;schemes, diagrams, maps, and mechanical drawings; all sorts of conventionalsigns; etc." (Vygotsky 1981, 137.)

Both technical tools and psychological tools mediateactivity. But only psychological tools imply and require reflective mediation,consciousness of one's (or the other person's) procedures. Vygotsky (1979, 54)describes these two types of instruments as parallel,as "subsumed under the same category" of mediated activity.However, a little later in the same text he characterizes their relation in hierarchical terms.

"The use of artificial means,the transition to mediated activity, fundamentally changes all psychologicaloperations just as the use of tools limitlessly broadens the range ofactivities within which the new psychological functions may operate. In thiscontext, we can use the term higher psychological function, or higher behavior as referring to the combination of tool and sign inpsychological activity." (Vygotsky 1979, 55.)

The latter, hierarchical characterization isessential. In my interpretation,we may actually distinguish between two levels of mediation: the primary levelof mediation by tools and gestures dissociatedfrom one another (wheregestures are not yet real psychological tools), and the secondary level ofmediation by tools combined with correspondingsigns or other psychological tools. The acquisition and application of newtools broadens the sphere of influence. The acquisition and applicationof new psychological tools elevates the level of influence(potentially; the result is actually achieved only when the tool and thepsychological tool meet each other).

The essence of psychological tools is that they areoriginally instruments forco-operative, communicative and self-conscious shaping andcontrolling of the procedures ofusing and making technicaltools (including the humanhand). This original function iswell demonstrated in Tran DucThao's (1984) analysis of the emergence of developed indicative gestures andfirst representations among prehominids. I would contend that this formation ofpsychological tools ( = secondary instruments ) through the combination ofpreviously separate gestures and technical tools ( = primary instruments ) isactually the essence of what Mead called the emergence of 'significantgestures' or 'significant symbols' and of what Trevarthen calls 'secondaryintersubjectivity'.

The idea of primary and secondary intruments isclearly expressed by Marx Wartofsky.

"(...) what constitutes adistinctively human form of action is the creation and use of artifacts, astools, in the production of the means of existence and in the reproduction ofthe species. Primary artifacts are those directly usedin this production; secondary artifacts are those used in thepreservation and transmission of the acquired skills or modes of action orpraxis by which this production is carried out. Secondary artifacts aretherefore representations of such modes of action, and inthis sense are mimetic, not simply of the objects of an environment which are of interest or use in thisproduction, but of these objects as they are acted upon, or of the mode ofoperation or action involving such objects. Canons of representation, therefore,have a large element of convention, corresponding to the change or evolution ofdifferent forms of action or praxis, and thus cannot be reduced to somesimple notion of 'natural' semblance or resemblance. Nature, or the worldbecomes a world-for-us, in this process, by the mediation of suchrepresentations (...)." (Wartofsky 1979, 202.)

Wartofsky calls secondary artifacts 'reflexiveembodiments'. He points out that their mode may be gestural, oral or visual,but "obviously such that they may be communicated in one or moresense-modalities" (Wartofsky 1979, 201). These representations "arenot 'in the mind', as mental entities"; they are "externally embodiedrepresentations" (Wartofsky 1979, 202; see also Keiler & Schurig 1978,146-147).

For me, Wartofsky's secondary artifacts andVygotsky's psychological tools are essentially the same thing. Vygotsky'sintellectualist bias (see Leontiev & Luria 1968, 354-355) led to a somewhatone-sided emphasis on signs and word meanings. The broader category of psychologicaltools, as well as the exciting relations between technical and psychologicaltools were not elaborated concretely by Vygotsky. Ironically, theactivity-oriented approach in Soviet psychology after Vygotsky tried to get ridof Vygotsky's intellectualism by neglecting the problem of signs andpsychological tools in general: "if the polemic with concrete works ofVygotsky on the problem of the sign was necessary and natural, the removal ofthis problematic - in principle - led only to a substantial 'narrowing' of thetheory of activity" (Davydov & Radzikhovskii 1985, 60). In the recentrevival of Vygotskian studies, signs may again be treated too much 'on theirown', separated from the spectrum of psychological tools and their relationswith primary tools. This danger seems to lure even in outstandinganalysis, such as that ofWertsch's (1985b) on Vygotsky's concept of semiotic mediation.

According to Vygotsky, the instrumentally mediatedact "is the simplest segment of behavior that is dealt with by researchbased on elementary units" (Vygotsky 1981, 140). On the other hand, as V.P. Zinchenko (1985, 100) demonstrates, in concerete research, especially in Thinking and Speech, Vygotsky usedanother basic unit of analysis, namely that of meaning or word meaning.

V. P. Zinchenko (1985, 100) argues that meaning"cannot be accepted as a self-sufficient analytic unit since in meaningthere is no 'motive force' for its own transformation intoconsciousness". Only thecognitive aspect of thinking is fixed in meaning; the affective and volitionalaspect is left unexplained.

The author then suggests that the adequate unit istool-mediated action - which is actually the same thing as Vygotsky'sinstrumental act. Furthermore, as V. P. Zinchenko (1985, 103) correctly states,"one can consider tool-mediated action as being very close to meaning asunit of analysis" because "of necessity, tool-mediated action givesrise both to object meaning and to categorical meaning".

But V. P. Zinchenko fails to demonstrate how thesuggested unit of tool-mediated action will overcome the limitations inherentin the unit of meaning. Tool-mediated action in no way solves the problems ofmotivation, emotion and creation.To the contrary, it seems that both meaning and tool-mediated action areformations of the same structural level. This is the level of goal-directedindividual cognition, the 'rational level' of human functioning. The problemsof motivation, emotion and creation seem to be unanswerable on this level. Theybelong to a higher, collective and - paradoxically - less conscious level offunctioning. Shoots of this lineof analysis are visible in Vygotsky's insistence on the concept of higher psychological functions. But thishierarchical aspect of Vygotsky's conception is left undeveloped by V. P.Zinchenko.

As a matter of fact, P. I. Zinchenko (father of V.P. Zinchenko) came close to this problem is his 1939 article. In a criticalreview of Vygotsky's ideas of the instrumental act, he wrote the followingrather opaque lines.

"But, in Vygotsky's thinking,the relationship of the means to its object was divorced from the subject'srelationship to reality considered in its actual and complete content. In thestrict sense, this relationship between the means and the object was a logicalrather than a psychological relationship. But the history of social developmentcannot be reduced to the history of the development of culture. (...) Thehistory of cultural development must be included in the history of society'ssocial and economic development; it must be considered in the context of theparticular social and economic relationships that determine the origin anddevelopment of culture." (Zinchenko 1983-84, 70.)

However, the problem of a level of functioningbeyond separate actions is also present in the most thoughtful cognitivistanalyses - if only in the form of an intriguing mystery. Thus, V. P. Zinchenkoends his article by taking up the notion of 'liberated action'.

"According to specialists inthe prevention of aviation catastrophes, in complex flying conditions humansand machines turn out to be, as it were, outside of time (we have in mind herethe 'time' of consciously controlled decisions and actions). It is preciselythis fact that provides the potential for avoiding catastrophes. But where doesthis potential originate? Or must we assume in such cases, as a minimum, adouble reading of time - that is, actual situational time and asuprasituational time that flows in the space of the activity itself? And must wealso assume their coordination? But by whom are they coordinated? Is there asubject who is responsible for this act of coordination?

The obvious precondition here isthe subject's loss of self-control (i.e., the separation of the personal 'I'from the situation and, consequently, its separation not only from the time ofobjects but from the time of thesubject as well). This means that the 'I' is 'outside of time.' This kind of'switching off' may not affect the possibility of self-reflection on the actionsbeing performed. But the subject does not plan or control their realization. Itis the subject's observing beyond himself or herself that may give him or herthe possibility of fixing actions in memory. (...)

In fact, we find that in suchsituations we are faced with liberated or unloosed action. And as the ancientssaid, a liberated person does not make mistakes. (...)

The timelessness of liberatedaction in situations that are critical for the subject is like the timelessnessof acts of creation, acts of brutality, and acts of discovery. In all of thesethe necessary condition is the liberation or unfettering of the subject, therepudiation of strict subjectivity." (Zinchenko 1985, 112-114.)

Zinchenko's lines remind us of Jung's concept of thecollective psyche (Chapter 1). It is more than a mere coincidence that SirFrederic Bartlett (1941) took up the same question of a superior level offunctioning using the same example of extreme situations in flying. WhileZinchenko discusses instances where the individual performance goes beyond theexpected, Bartlett, as reported byBroadbent, discussed cases wherethe individual performance deteriorates dramatically.

"(...) the Cambridgelaboratory had been looking at the breakdown of skill in RAF pilots flying on asimulator. The full task was to control height, course, and air speed as wellas to undertake peripheral functions. Bartlett quotes data showing thatprolonged performance of one part of the task by itself showed no decline inefficiency; but that when all the parts were being done together, there wassuch a drop. Instead of attributing the drop to over-loading of a single level, he says, 'It is not thelocal response that has lost its accuracy or its power. It is the centralcontrol which has functionally, but without knowledge, expanded the limits ofits indifference range.' Not the isolated tasks, but the way they fit together.He notes that conscious verbal report comes only from one of the levelsinvolved; he discusses the fact that the pilots were frequently quite unawarethat their skills had deteriorated, and rather blamed the experimenter or theapparatus for any apparent error." (Broadbent 1977, 183.)

The problem with both Zinchenko and Broadbent (ofBartlett I am not sure; see Edwards & Middleton 1986) is that they areseeking the explanation toessentially super-individual phenomena within the individual head. Flying typically is anactivity with an elaborate 'infrastructure' of interaction and division oflabor (between the pilot and the ground control, especially) - though it lookslike a lonely job. Both the extraordinary performances and the unexpectedbreakdowns might be fruitfully analyzed from that angle. Zinchenko's timelesssubject might also acquire some flesh and blood that way.

The problem of levels in human functioning wastheoretically worked out by A. N. Leont'ev, a collaborator and pupil ofVygotsky.

"When a member of a groupperforms his labour activity he also does it to satisfy one of his needs. Abeater, for example, taking part in a primaeval collective hunt, was stimulatedby a need for food or, perhaps, by a need for clothing, which the skin of thedead animal would meet for him. At what, however, was his activity directlyaimed? It may have been directed, for example, at frightening a herd of animalsand sending them toward other hunters, hiding in ambush. That, properlyspeaking, is what should be the result of the activity of this man. And theactivity of this individual member of the hunt ends with that. The rest iscompleted by the other members. This result, i.e., the frightening of game,etc., understandably does not in itself, and may not, lead to satisfaction ofthe beater's need for food, or the skin of the animal. What the processes ofhis activity were directed to did not, consequently, coincide with whatstimulated them, i.e., did not coincide with the motive of his activity; thetwo were divided from one another in this instance. Processes, the object andmotive of which do not coincide with one another, we shall call 'actions'. Wecan say, for example, that the beater's activity is the hunt, and thefrightening of game his action." (Leontyev 1981, 210.)

"(...) what unites the directresult of this activity with its final outcome? Obviously nothing other thanthe given individual's relation with the other members of the group, by virtueof which he gets his share of the bag from them, i.e., part of the product oftheir joint labor activity. This relationship, this connection is realisedthrough the activity of other people, which means that it is the activity ofother people that constitutes the objective basis of the specific structure ofthe human individual's activity, means that historically, i.e., through itsgenesis, the connection between the motive and the object of an action reflectsobjective social connections and relations rather than natural ones."(Leontyev 1981, 212.)

These lines, originally published in 1947,demonstrate the insufficiency of an individual tool-mediated action as a unitof psychological analysis. Without consideration of the overall collectiveactivity, the individual beater's action seems "senseless andunjustified" (Leontyev 1981, 213). Human labor, the mother form of allhuman activity, is co-operative from the very beginning. We may well speak ofthe activity of the individual, but never of individual activity; onlyactions are individual.

Furthermore, what distinguishes one activity fromanother is its object. According to Leont'ev, the object of an activity is itstrue motive. Thus, the concept of activity is necessarily connected with theconcept of motive. Under the conditions of division of labor, the individualparticipates in activities mostly without being fully conscious of theirobjects and motives. The total activity seems to control the individual,instead of the individual controlling the activity.

Activities are realized by goal-directed actions,subordinated to conscious purposes. These are the typical objects of thecognitive psychology of skills and performances, whether they be motor ormental.

But human practice is not just a series or a sum ofactions. In other words, "activity is a molar, not an additive unit"(Leont'ev 1978, 50).

"Correspondingly, actions arenot special 'units' that are included in the structure of activity. Humanactivity does not exist except in the form of action or a chain ofactions." (Leont'ev 1978, 64.)

On the other hand, one and the same action mayaccomplish various activities and may transfer from one activity to another.And one motive may obviously find expression in various goals and actions.

Finally actions are carried out in variable concretecirc*mstances. The methods with which the action is accomplished are calledoperations. Actions are related to conscious goals, operations to conditionsnot often consciously reflected by the subject. Tools are crystallizedoperations.

"Thus in the total flow ofactivity that forms human life, in its higher manifestations mediated bypsychic reflection, analysis isolates separate (specific) activities in thefirst place according to the criterion of motives that elicit them. Thenactions are isolated - processes that are subordinated to conscious goals,finally, operations that directly depend on the conditions of attainingconcrete goals." (Leont'ev 1978, 66-67.)

The hunting example demonstrates the developmentfrom activity to actions as the consequence of division of labor. There is alsothe opposite direction of development, often neglected in the interpretation ofLeont'ev's work. Actions may develop into an activity.

"These are the ordinary caseswhen a person undertakes to perform some actions under the influence of acertain motive, and then performs them for their own sake because the motiveseems to have been displaced to their objective. And that means that theactions are transformed into activity." (Leontyev 1981, 238.)

In a pathological case, some separate actions becomethe meaning and motive of the whole life of an individual - be they drinking orpreaching (see Leont'ev 1978,112-113). This implies that the tasks or actions (including their objects)themselves are not objectively transformed. They are attributed an overwhelmingillusionary importance and often a repetitively increased volume. This is thekernel of Jung's concept of 'inflation', discussed in Chapter 1.

In the expansive case, the actions themselves areobjectively transformed.

"Motives of activity that havesuch an origin are conscious motives. They do not become conscious, however, ofthemselves, automatically. It requires a certain, special activity, somespecial act. This is an act of reflecting the relation of the motive of agiven, concrete activity to the motive of a wider activity, that realises abroader, more general life relation that includes the given, concreteactivity." (Leontyev 1981, 238.)

I shall later substantiate the proposal that in thisvery passage, pointing out the necessity of some 'special activity', Leont'ev actually foresees thepsychological core of what will be the concept of learning activity, orlearning by expanding.

For Leont'ev, activity is a systemic formation inconstant internal movement.

"In this process man'scognition of the objects takes place, exceeding the possibilities of directsensory reflection. If in direct action, 'subject-object,' the latter disclosesits properties only within limits conditioned by the kind and degree ofsubtlety that the subject can sense, then in the process of interactionmediated by an instrument, cognition goes beyond these limits. Thus, in mechanical processing of an object madeof one material with an object made of another, we carry out an unmistakabletest of their relative hardness within limits completely inaccessible to ourorgans of skin-muscle sensitivity: On the basis of the change of form of one ofthe objects, we draw a conclusion about the greater hardness of the other. Inthis sense the instrument is the first real abstraction." (Leont'ev 1978,23.)

"In activity there does takeplace a transfer of an object into its subjective form, into an image; also inactivity a transfer of activity into its objective results, into its products,is brought about. Taken from this point of view, activity appears as a processin which mutual transfers between the poles 'subject-object' areaccomplished." (Leont'ev 1978, 50.)

Hans Joas (1980), Klaus Ottomeyer (1980) and someother interactionists criticize Leont'ev and his followers for a one-sidedemphasis on the instrumental-productive aspect of activity and for a neglect ofthe social and communicative aspect. The above citations seem to support thiscriticism.

But a fair reading gives a more sophisticatedpicture.

"Another condition (besidesthe instrumental; Y.E.) is that theindividual's relations with the world of human objects should be mediated byhis relations with people, and that these relations should be included in aprocess of intercourse. This condition is always present. For the notion of anindividual, a child, who is all by itself with the world of objects is acompletely artificial abstraction.

The individual, the child, is notsimply thrown into the human world; it is introduced into this world by thepeople around it, and they guide it in that world." (Leontyev 1981, 135.)

"Only through a relation withother people does man relate to nature itself, which means that labour appearsfrom the very beginning as a process mediated by tools (in the broad sense) andat the same time mediated socially." (Leontyev 1981, 208.)

And Meshcheryakov, a disciple of Leont'ev, calls theunit of analysis "shared object activity" (Meshcheryakov 1979, 294).

"A kind of vicious circledevelops: in order to know how to act with the tool the child has to know it,and in order to know the tool it is essential that the child act with it. Thevicious circle is broken when the adult begins to teach the child to act withthe tool in the process of satisfying its needs. This instruction is onlypossible in the form of joint object action shared between the adult and the child."(Meshcheryakov 1979, 296.)

The problem is that the instrumental and thecommunicative aspect of activity were not brought into a unified complex modelby Leont'ev. Vygotsky's model of the instrumental act (Figure 2.3) was notgraphically superseded in Leont'ev's work.

This incomplete unification of the two aspects ofactivity in Leont'ev's work gave room for Lomov's (1976; 1980) attempt toseparate activity and communication as the two spheres of the life process ofthe individual. According to Lomov, activity should be understood as therelation subject-object, while communication comprises the relationsubject-subject. This dualistic conception was heavily criticized by A. N.Leont'ev's son A. A. Leont'ev. According to him, activity cannot be legitimatelycharacterized as individual; rather it is social in all its components (A. A.Leontjew 1980, 527).

"Thus, when we are dealingwith joint activity, we can with full justification speak of a collective subject or of a total subject of this activity,whose interrelation with the 'individual' subjects can only be comprehendedthrough a psychological analysis of the structure of the joint activity."(A. A. Leontjew 1980, 530.)

Thus, communication for A. A. Leont'ev is anintegral aspect of every activity. On the other hand, communication may alsodifferentiate into its own specialized activity system - very clearly invarious forms of mass communication, for example. But in this case, it retainsall the basic elements of activity (including the aspect of internalcommunication within it).

A. A. Leont'ev's point is convincing enough. But he,too, refrained from producing a more adequate unified model of activity. Inother words, the essential elements and inner relations of activity were notcomprehensively analysed and modelled by either the older or the youngerLeont'ev.

Symptomatically, this problem has recently againbeen taken up in Soviet discussion, this time by Radzikhovskii (1984).

"This morphological paradigm(of A. N. Leont'ev; Y.E.) does not(...) explain very well why activity should change as a consequence of the realor imagined presence of other people; nor does it answer the question ofwherein, from the psychological point of view, lies the qualitative differencebetween 'another' person and any other physical object, e.g., questionsassociated with communication, interaction, etc. (...) the social nature ofmotives and means of activity is by no means reflected in a specific structureof activity; this social nature is invariant relative to this structure(...)." (Radzikhovskii 1984,37.)

Radzikhovskii's most important argument is that"the genesis of activity itself is not illuminated, i.e., thestructural-genetic original unit from which the structure of activity (...)unfolds is not demonstrated" (Radzikhovskii 1984, 40). The author proposes'social action' or 'joint action' as the alternative unit of analysis.

"Concretely, we are sayingthat the general structure of ontogenetically primary joint activity (or, moreaccurately, primary joint action) includes at least the following elements:subject (child), object, subject (adult). The object here also has a symbolicfunction and plays the role of the primary sign. In fact, the child's movementtoward, and manipulation of, an object, even when he is pursuing the goal ofsatisfying a vital need, is also simultaneously a sign for an adult: to help,to intervene, to take part. (...) In other words, true communication,communication through signs, takes place here between the adult and the child.An objective act is built up around the object as an object, and signcommunication is built up around the same object as the sign. Communication andthe objective act coincide completely here, and can be separated onlyartificially (...)." (Radzikhovskii 1984, 44.)

"The unit defined above shouldbe seen as genetically earlier (in ontogeny), as determining the basic internalsign structure of human activity, and, finally, as a universal unit and acomponent of individual activity." (Radzikhovskii 1984, 49.)

At the first glance, Radzikhovskii is merelyadopting the neo-Meadian conception of activity, exemplified in Trevarthen'smodel of secondary intersubjectivity (Figure 2.2). However, Radzikhovskii'saccount of the genesis of 'primary joint action' differs substantially fromthose of Mead and Trevarthen. For Radzikhovskii, the use of the sign in theprimary joint action is non-conscious and completely fused into the action onthe object. For Mead, this kind of sign usage is something that precedes thespecifically human stage of conscious 'significant gestures'. And Trevarthen'selaborate data shows that up to nine moths the infant's gestures andobject-actions are separate, not fused together. Their combination(not merger) is a developmental achievement, signifying a new level in thechild's self-consciousness.

Actually this very same principle was formulated byEl'konin in 1971. El'konin pointed out that the dominant thought form inpsychology splits development into two mutually disjointed spheres: theneed-motivational sphere on the one hand and the cognitive-instrumental sphereon the other hand. The former represents the 'world of people', the latter the'world of things'. This dichotomous thought form is by no means merely asubjective fancy. It reflects rather accurately, though non-consciously, thehistorical division of labor within class societies, "rearing certainchildren primarily as performers of the operational and technical aspects oflabor while educating others chiefly as bearers of the objectives and motivesof that activity" (El'konin 1977, 552).

"If things are viewed asphysical objects and other people as random individuals, then the child'sadaptation to these 'two worlds' actually does seem to proceed along twoparallel, fundamentally independent lines." (El'konin 1977, 547.)

"If we look at the formationof personality in the system 'child in society,' we can see how the links inthe systems 'child-thing' and 'child-individual adult' assume a radicallydifferent character. They change from two independent systems into one unifiedsystem. And, as a result, the content of each system is essentially changed.When we examine the system 'child-thing' we now see that things, possessingdefinite physical and spatial properties, appear to the child as socialobjects: it is the socially evolved modes of action with these objects thatpredominate." (El'konin 1977, 549.)

It almost seems that Radzikhovskii's description ofthe 'primary joint action' mightcorrespond to the actual structure of animal activity preceding humanity inevolutionary terms.Radzikhovskii's nearly total neglect of the role of material productionand material instruments (and their relations to signs and other 'psychologicaltools') supports this conclusion.

In spite of its rather regressive outcome,Radzikhovskii's attempt is a symptom of the existence of an unsolved problem inthe Vygotsky - Leont'ev tradition.

This third lineage, from Vygotsky to Leont'ev, givesbirth to the concept of activity based on material production, mediated bytechnical and psychological tools as well as by other human beings. This is thelineage I'll try to continue and develop. The next task is to derive a model ofthe structure of human activity through genetic analysis.

THE EVOLUTION OF ACTIVITY

The general mode of biological adaptation as theanimal form of activity may be depicted as follows (Figure 2.4).

A central tenet embedded in this model is theimmediately collective and populational character of animal activity andspecies development (see Jensen 1981). Species is seen as a systemic formation,as a 'methodology of survival', produced to solve the contradiction betweenpopulation and nature. In this formation, the prototype and the proceduredefine each other in a complementary manner.

The adaptive nature of animal activity does not meanpassive acquiescence in thedemands and pressures of nature. As Lewontin (1982, 160-161) shows, organismsand environments always penetrate each other in several ways.

Figure 2.4: The general structure of the animal formof activity

"The importanceof these various formsof dialectical interaction betweenorganism andenvironment is that we cannot regard evolution as the 'solution' by species ofsome predetermined environmental 'problems' because it is the life activitiesof the species themselves that determine both the problems and the solutionssimultaneously. (...) Organisms within their individual lifetimes and in thecourse of their evolution as species do not adapt to environments; they construct them." (Lewontin 1982, 162-163.)

On higher levels of animal evolution, we witnessruptures in each of the three sides of the triangle depicted in Figure 2.4. Theuppermost side of 'individual survival' is ruptured by the emerging utilizationof tools, most clearly demonstrated by the anthropoid apes (see Schurig 1976).The left hand side of 'social life' is ruptured by collective traditions,rituals and rules, originating atthe crossing of adaptation and mating. The right hand side of 'collectivesurvival' is ruptured by division of labor, influenced by the practices ofbreeding, upbringing and mating, and appearing first as the evolving divisionof labor between the sexes.

These ruptures cannot be comprehended "simplyas a linear process of higher development, but rather as a process in which,under the influence of various different evolutionary factors, differingcompeting lines of development may have emerged" (Keiler 1981, 150). Anthropoidapes are the prime example of the rupture by tools. Dolphins, with theirextraordinary "capacity to organize many individuals into a systemwhich operates as a whole"(Keiler 1981, 151), may be a primeexample of the ruptures in 'doing together' and 'being together'.

This stage of 'ruptures' is actually the still quitedim transitional field between animal and man. It may be depicted with the helpof Figure 2.5.

Figure 2.5: Structure of activity in transition fromanimal to man

Anthropoid apes do not make and preserve toolssystematically. Tool making and tool utilization are still exceptional ratherthan dominant forms of theiractivity. The activity of dolphins may be assessed analogously.

"The fact (...) that thetransition from animal psyche to human consciousness is not completed in thecase of the dolphins is (...) to be explained by the circ*mstance that there isno active, instrumentally mediated, appropriation of material reality withinthe social behaviour of dolphins parallel to the use and preparation ofexternal aids for the completion of operations such as is found in thephylogenetic line of the apes, and which can be seen as an anticipation ofhuman productive (that is, mediated by tools) activity at the animal level.However complex the social life of dolphins may be, the relationships thatarise within it are not coordinated by 'the activity of production', they arenot determined by it and do not depend upon it." (Keiler 1981, 153.)

The breakthrough into human cultural evolution - intothe specifically human form of activity - requires that what used to be separate ruptures or emerging mediatorsbecome unified determining factors. At the same time, what used to beecological and natural becomes economic and historical.

"Since intentional action isfrequently co-operative and socially regulated in non-human primates, it makesmore sense to derive co-operation from social interactions where it alreadyexists than from object-using programs where it does not. Consequently, atheory of the evolution of human technology should place less emphasis ondifferences in the tool-using capacities between human and apes (important asthey are) but ask instead how emergent tool-using capacities become integratedinto the domain of intentional social action." (Reynolds 1982, 382; seealso Reynolds 1981.)

Richard Leakey and Roger Lewin propose an elegantsketch of this original integration. They point out that humans are the onlyprimate who collect food to be eaten later. In theirmixed economy, the early humans did this both by gathering plants and byscavenging and hunting meat. However, "sharing, not hunting or gatheringas such, is what made us human" (Leakey & Lewin 1983, 120).

"(...) the invention of aprimitive container - the first carrier bag - transformed the early hominids'subsistence ecology into a food-sharing economy. The digging stick may havecome before or after the carrier bag, but, important though it was, it lackedthe social impact of the container: the digging stick may have made lifeeasier, but it didn't usher in an entirely new life-style." (Leakey &Lewin 1983, 127.)

Another point of integration was the emergence ofcollectively organized tool-making, concentrated on steady campsites (Leakey& Lewin 1983, 83; 128).

The paleoanthropological ideas of Leakey and Lewincorrespond to the philosophical point made by Peter Ruben.

"Every social system is facedwith the analytical problem of dividing the total product into necessary andsurplus product. And the regulations created for distribution of these productsprovide the norms for 'justice' in each system. So the existence of a surplusof labour beyond necessary labour is given apriori in every systemof labour, and one can say that sociality, in contrast to individuality, isperceivable exactly in this surplus product. (...) It is the struggle for thesurplus product that constituted sociality! (...) Thus, a social mechanism thatis especially a mechanism of political domination (...) does not serve as agenetical precondition for bringing about the surplus product, but as a meansfor its quantitative expansion." (Ruben 1981, 128-129.)

The whole structure of activity is thus reorganized(Figure 2.6).

Figure 2.6: The structure of human activity

The model depicted in Figure 2.6 is a logicalcontinuation of the transitional model depicted in Figure 2.5. What used to beadaptive activity is transformed into consumption and subordinated to the threedominant aspects of human activity - production, distribution and exchange (orcommunication).

The model suggests the possibility of analyzing amultitude of relations within the triangular structure of activity. However,the essential task is always to grasp the systemic whole, not just separateconnections. Here the analysis provided by Karl Marx in the introduction to Grundrisse is essential.

"Production creates theobjects which correspond to the given needs; distribution divides them upaccording to social laws; exchange further parcels out the already dividedshares in accord with individual needs; and finally, in consumption, theproduct steps outside this social movement and becomes a direct object andservant of individual need, and satisfies it in being consumed. Thus productionappears to be the point of departure, consumption as the conclusion,distribution and exchange as the middle (...)." (Marx 1973, 89.)

Marx goes on to show that things are not so simpleas this. Production is always also consumption of the individual's abilitiesand of the means of production. Correspondingly, consumption is also productionof the human beings themselves. Furthermore, distribution seems to be not justa consequence of production but also its immanent prerequisite in the form ofdistribution of instruments of production and distribution of members of thesociety among the different kinds of production. Finally, exchange, too, is found inside production, in theform of communication, interaction and exchange of unfinished products betweenthe producers.

Does this mean that the boundaries between thesub-triangles of Figure 2.6 are blurred and eventually given up?

"The conclusion we reach isnot that production, distribution, exchange and consumption are identical, butthat they all form the members of a totality, distinctions within a unity.Production predominates not only over itself, in the antithetical definition ofproduction, but over the other moments as well. The process always returns toproduction to begin anew. That exchange and consumption cannot be predominant isself-evident. Likewise, distribution as distribution of products; while asdistribution of the agents of production it is itself a moment of production. Adefinite production thus determines a definite consumption, distribution andexchange as well as definite relationsbetween these different moments. Admittedly,however, in its one-sided form, production is itself determined bythe other moments. For example if the market, i.e. the sphere of exchange,expands, then production grows in quantity and the divisions between itsdifferent branches become deeper. A change in distribution changes production,e.g. concentration of capital, different distribution of the population betweentown and country, etc. Finally, the needs of consumption determine production.Mutual interaction takes place between the different moments. This is the casewith every organic whole." (Marx 1973, 99-100.)

Marx's notions of 'the antithetical definition ofproduction' and of production 'in its one-sided form', especially when appliedto the earliest simple forms of societal organization, seem to refer to thedouble existence of production as both the whole activity system of Figure 2.6and as the uppermost sub-triangle or action-type of that system.

Take the primordial gatherer-hunters described byLeakey and Lewin. The total practice of their life may be called production inthe broad sense. On the other hand, they used only a certain amount of time ingathering and hunting - these may be called production in the narrow sense. The sharing of thefood produced was a distinctive part of their daily life - it may be called distribution. Having obtained their shares of the food, they ate them - consumption. Finally, there was "a good deal of spare time"(Leakey & Lewin 1983, 126) used in various forms of social interaction - exchange.

In other words, each sub-triangle in Figure 2.6 ispotentially an activity of itsown. Within the total practice of the society, the sub-triangles are initiallyonly actions since their object isstill a relatively undifferentiated whole (mainly food) and the temporal,spatial and social boundaries between them are fluid. As Leakey and Lewin(1983, 109) point out, "there are no separate living areas and 'workshop'areas" and, likewise, "no specialists in gatherer-huntercommunities". However, demanding tasks such as hunting very early acquirea division of labor of their own and become relatively independent activities,as was shown in Leont'ev's hunting example earlier in this chapter.

In a more complex and differentiated society, thereexist a multitude of relatively independent activities, representing all thesub-triangles. But within any such relatively independent activity system, wefind the same internal structure as depicted in Figure 2.6. Thus, an activity representing forexample exchange within the total societal practice (e.g., a leisure-time hobbyactivity) has within it the sub-triangles of production, distribution,exchange, and consumption. This has the important implication that there is no activity without the componentof production; only actionsmay be void of it.

The specificity of human production is that ityields more than what goes into the immediate reproduction of the subjects ofproduction. One part of this 'more' is the surplus product that leads tosharing and sociality, discussed by Leakey & Lewin and Ruben above. Theother part is the tools and instruments created for and within the process ofproduction.

"From them the process oflabor can begin each time anew, and in such way that it is not only arepetition of the same process but a repetition on the basis of changedconditions, i.e., of conditions created and extended by the subjectsthemselves. (...) with regard to the specificity of the human labor process,this means that it is a process of tendentially extended reproduction."(Damerow, Furth, Heidtmann & Lefvre 1980, 238.)

In a complex society, 'the antithetical definitionof production' refers primarily to the simultaneous existence of productiveactivity (1) in the form of the total practice of the society and(2) in the form of thenumerous specific productive activities within the same society. Damerow,Furth, Heidtmann and Lefvre (1980, 241) call the former 'the concrete generallabor' and the latter 'the concrete specific labor'.

The model of Figure 2.6 may now be compared with thefour criteria of a root model of human activity, set forth earlier in thischapter.

Firstly, I argue that the model is actually the smallestand most simple unit that still preserves the essential unity and integralquality behind any human activity. The simpler models presented in Figures 2.1to 2.5 have been shown to be either oversimplifications or representations ofgenetically earlier forms of activity. Such simplifications may naturally beuseful when applied in contexts demanding focussing on or abstraction ofcertain aspects of human activity. However, reduction requires consciousjustification in order not to become distortion.

Secondly, Imaintain that with the help of this model activity can be analyzed in its innerdynamic relations and historical change. However, this claim must besubstantiated by using and transforming the model in the analysis of thedevelopment of concrete activities. In this chapter, the cultural evolution oflearning will serve as such a developmental problem. In Chapters 3 and 4, fourhistorical cases of activity development are analyzed. Before these analyses can be carriedout, the concept of inner contradictions must be introduced as the source ofdynamics and development in human activity (next section).

With regard to the third and fourthcriteria (activity as a contextual and ecological phenomenon;activity as a mediated phenomenon), the status of the model of Figure 2.6 israther evident.

INNER CONTRADICTIONS OF HUMAN ACTIVITY

The basic internal contradiction of human activityis its dual existence as the total societal production and as one specific production among many. This means that anyspecific production must at the same be independentof and subordinated tothe total societal production (see Damerow, Furth, Heidtmann &Lefvre 1980, 240-241). Within the structure of any specific productiveactivity, the contradiction is renewed as the clash between individual actions and the total activitysystem. This fundamental contradiction acquires a different historical formin each socio-economic formation.

The fundamental contradiction arises out of thedivision of labor.

"Divison of labour in asociety, and the corresponding tying down of individual to a particularcalling, develops itself (...) from opposite starting points. Within a family,and (...) within a tribe, there springs up naturally a division of labour,caused by differences of sex and age, a division that is consequently based ona purely physiological foundation, which division enlarges its materials by theexpansion of the community, by the increase of population, and more especially,by the conflicts between different tribes, and the subjugation of one tribe byanother. On the other hand, (...) the exchange of products springs up at thepoints where different families, tribes, communities, come in contact; for, inthe beginning of civilization, it is not private individuals but families,tribes etc. that meet on an independent footing. Different communities finddifferent means of production, and different means of subsistence in theirnatural environment. Hence, their modes of production, and of living, and theirproducts are different. It is this spontaneously developed difference which,when different communities come in contact, calls forth the mutual exchange ofproducts, and the consequent gradual conversion of those products intocommodities. Exchange does not create the differences between the spheres ofproduction, but brings what are already different into relation, and thusconverts them into more or less interdependent branches of the collectiveproduction of an enlarged society. In the latter case, the social division oflabour arises from the exchange between spheres of production, that areoriginally distinct and independent of each other. In the former, where thephysiological division of labour is the starting point, the particular organsof a compact whole grow loose and break off, principally owing to the exchangeof commodities with foreign communities, and then isolate themselves so far,that the sole bond, still connecting the various kinds of work, is the exchangeof the products as commodities. In the one case, it is the making dependentwhat was before independent; in the other case, the making independent what wasbefore dependent." (Marx 1909, 344-345.)

The two directions or 'opposite starting points', from within an activity andfrom between two activities, are essential for the emerging concept of expansion, as will becomeclear in Chapter 3. Here, I shall focus on the dialectic between independencyand subordination.

In pre-capitalist socio-economic formations, thebasic contradiction, the subordination of individual producers to the totalsystem of production, took the form of immediately visible personal suppression by force, be it exercised by slave-owners or feudal lords.

"The less social power themedium of exchange possesses (and at this stage it is still closely bound tothe nature of the direct product of labour and the direct needs of the partnersin exchange) the greater must be the power of the community which binds theindividuals together, the patriarchal relation, the community of antiquity,feudalism and the guild system. (...) Relations of personal dependence(entirely spontaneous at the outset) are the first social forms in which humanproductive capacity develops only to a slight extent and at isolatedpoints." (Marx 1973, 157-158.)

In capitalism, the contradiction acquires thegeneral form of commodity. Commodity is an object thatpossesses value (i.e., exchangevalue), not only and notprimarily use value. The value of the commodity is basicallydetermined by the average necessary amount of social labour needed for itsproduction. This entails "the reduction of all phenomena to 'labour ingeneral', to labour devoid of all qualitative differences" (Ilyenkov 1982,97).

"As a general rule, articlesof utility become commodities only because they are products of the labour ofprivate individuals or groups of individuals who carry on their workindependently of each other. (...) Since the producers do not come into socialcontact with each other until they exchange their products, the specific socialcharacter of each producer's labour does not show itself except in the act ofexchange. (...) It is only by being exchanged that the products of labouracquire, as values, one uniform social status, distinct from their varied formsof existence as objects of utility. This division of a product into a usefulthing and a value becomes practically important only when exchange has acquiredsuch an extension that useful articles are produced for the purpose of beingexchanged, and their character as values has therefore to be taken intoaccount, beforehand, during production. From this moment the labour of theindividual producer acquires socially a two-fold character. On the one hand, itmust, as a definite useful kind of labour, satisfy a definite social want, andthus hold its place as part and parcel of the collective labour of all, as abranch of a social division of labour that has sprung up spontaneously. On theother hand, it can satisfy the manifold wants of the individual producerhimself, only in so far as the mutual exchangeability of all kinds of usefulprivate labour is an established social fact, and therefore the private usefullabour of each producer ranks on an equality with that of all others."(Marx 1909, 44.)

In capitalism, all things, activities and relationsbecome saturated by the dual nature of commodity - they become commodified. Therelation between individual actions and collective activity, between specificproductions and the total production, is transformed accordingly.

"The reciprocal and all-sideddependence of individuals who are indifferent to one another forms their socialconnection. This social bond is expressed in exchange value, bymeans of which alone each individual's own activity or his product becomes anactivity and a product for him; he must produce a general product - exchange value, or, the latter isolated for itself and individualized, money.On the other side, the power which each individual exercises overthe activity of others or over social wealth exists in him as the owner of exchange values, of money. Theindividual carries his social power, as well as his bond with society, in hispocket. Activity, regardless of its individual manifestation, and the productof activity, regardless of its particular make-up, are always exchange value, and exchange value is a generality, in which allindividuality and peculiarity are negated and extinguished. (...)

The social character of activity,as well as the social form of the product, and the share of individuals in productionhere appears as something alien and objective, confronting the individuals, notas their relation to one another, but as their subordination to relations whichsubsist independently of them and which arise out of collisions betweenmutually indifferent individuals. The general exchange of activities andproducts, which has become a vital condition for each individual - their mutualinterconnection - here appears as something alien to them, autonomous, as athing. In exchange value, the social connection between persons is transformedinto a social relation between things; personal capacity into objectivewealth." (Marx 1973, 156-157.)

The essential contradiction is the mutual exclusionand simultaneous mutual dependency of use value and exchange value in eachcommodity. This double nature and inner unrest is characteristic to all the corners of thetriangular structure of activity. It penetrates the subject and communitycorners because labour force itself is a special kind of commodity.

Leont'ev realised this contradiction as a necessaryprecondition for a scientific study of activity in capitalism.

"Everything acquires a dualaspect under the dominance of private ownership of the means of production,viz., both man's own activity and the world of objects around him.

(...) The doctor who buys apractice in some little provincial place may be very seriously trying to reducehis fellow citizens' suffering from illness, and may see his calling in justthat. He must, however, want the number of the sick to increase, because hislife and practical opportunity to follow his calling depend on that.

(...) The penetration of theserelations into consciousness also finds psychological reflection in a'disintegration' of its general structure characterised by the rise of anestrangement between the senses and meanings in which the world around man andhis own life are refracted for him." (Leontyev 1981, 254-255.)

This is not just a subsidiary aspect for Leont'ev.

"To ignore these peculiaritiesand remove them from the context of psychological research is to deprivepsychology of historical concreteness, converting it into a science solely ofthe psyche of an abstract man, of 'man in general'." (Leontyev 1981, 255.)

Moreover, it is a question of a real contradiction,not of one-dimensional repression and alienation. In other words, there arecompeting opposite forces within the capitalist labor activity - positive as well as negative.

"(a) It (labour, Y.E.) is positive as the means of hisactivity. They constitute real wealth, the 'technical' side, so to speak, ofhis life; it is the wealth of knowledge, skills and know-how that he mustpossess in order to perform his labour activity.

(b) It is positive as a conditionof the enriching of his life with a new content quite different to that properof his alienated activity, but nevertheless engendered precisely by it. Theworker in a capitalist mill not only alienates his labour; he enters intorelations with other people in that way (...)." (Leontyev 1981, 256.)

Marx points out this positive perspective in a moreglobal fashion.

"Since (...) theautonomization of the world market (in which the activity of each individual isincluded) increases with the development of monetary relations (exchange value)and vice versa, since the general bond and all-round interdependence inproduction and consumption increase together with the independence andindifference of the consumers and producers to one another; since thiscontradiction leads to crises, etc., hence, together with the development ofthis alienation, and on the same basis, efforts are made to overcome it:institutions emerge whereby each individual can acquire information about theactivity of all others and attempt to adjust his own accordingly, e.g. lists ofcurrent prices, rates of exchange, interconnections between those active incommerce through the mails, telegraphs etc. (the means of communication ofcourse grow at the same time). (...) Although on the given standpoint,alienation is not overcome by these means, nevertheless relations andconnections are introduced thereby which include the possibility of suspendingthe old standpoint." (Marx 1973, 160-161.)

Marx goes on to emphasize that the objective socialbond of exchange value and marketis a historical product brought about by the individuals. It is a necessaryintermediate stage, producing not only alienation of the individual fromhimself and from others, but"also the universality and the comprehensiveness of his relations andcapacities" (Marx 1973, 162). Thus, it would be ridiculous romanticism toyearn for a return to an imaginary 'original fullness'.

Internal contradictions find their outwardexpressions in external ones. The latter are no less real, but derivative ingenetic terms (see Ilyenkov 1977, 334-335). In the analysis of human activity,four levels or layers of contradictions may be discerned. These levels may beillustrated with the help of Figure 2.7, an elaboration of the model ofactivity depicted in Figure 2.6.

The primary contradiction of activities incapitalist socio-economic formations lives as the inner conflict betweenexchange value and use value within each corner of the triangle of activity.

The secondary contradictions are those appearingbetween the corners. The stiff hierarchical division of labor lagging behindand preventing the possibilities opened by advanced instruments is a typicalexample.

The tertiary contradiction appears whenrepresentatives of culture (e.g., teachers) introduce the object and motive ofa culturally more advanced form of the central activity into the dominant formof the central activity. For example, the primary school pupil goes to schoolin order to play with his mates (the dominant motive), but the parents and theteacher try to make him study seriously (the culturally more advanced motive).The culturally more advanced object and motive may also be actively sought bythe subjects of the central activity themselves.

The quaternary contradictions require that we takeinto consideration the essential 'neighbour activities' linked with the centralactivity which is the original object of our study.

The 'neighbour activities' include first of all the activities where the immediately appearingobjects and outcomes of the central activity are embedded (let's call themobject-activities). Secondly, they include the activities thatproduce the key instruments for the central activity (instrument-producingactivities), the most general representatives being science and art. Thirdly, they include activities likeeducation and schooling of the subjects of the central activity(subject-producing activities). Fourthly,they include activities like administration and legistlation(rule-producing activities). Naturally the 'neighbour activities' also includecentral activities which are in some other way, for a longer or shorter period,connected or related to the given central activity, potentially hybridizingeach other through their exchanges.

Figure 2.7: Four levels of contradictions within thehuman activity system

Level 1: Primary innercontradiction (double nature) within each constituent component of thecentral activity.

Level 2: Secondary contradictions between the constituents of the centralactivity.

Level 3: Tertiary contradiction between the object/motive of the dominant form of the centralactivity and the object/motive of a culturally more advanced form of thecentral activity.

Level 4: Quaternary contradictions between the central activity and its neighbour activities.

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Now the quaternary contradictions are those thatemerge between the central activity and the neighbouring activity in theirinteraction. Conflicts and resistances appearing in the course of the'implementation' of the outcomes of the central activity in the system of theobject-activity are a case in point.

The work activity of physicians in primary medicalcare (general practitioners) may serve as an illustration of the four levels ofcontradictions.

The primary contradiction, the dual nature of usevalue and exchange value, may be analyzed by focusing on any of the corners ofthe 'central activity' of the doctor. For example, instruments of thiswork activity include a tremendous variety of medicaments and drugs. But theyare not just useful preparations - they are above all commodities with prices,manufactured for a market, advertised and sold for profit. Every doctor facesthis contradiction in his daily decision making.

A typical secondary contradiction in this workactivity would be the conflict between the traditional biomedical conceptual instruments concerning theclassification of diseases and correct diagnosis on the one hand andthe changing nature of the objects, namely the increasingly ambivalentand complex problems and symptoms of the patients. These problems more and moreoften do not comply with the standards of classical diagnosis and nomenclature.They require an integrated social, psychological and biomedical approach whichmay not yet exist.

A tertiary contradiction arises when, say, theadministrators of the medical care system order the practitioners to employcertain new procedures corresponding to the ideals of a more wholistic andintegrated medicine. The new procedures may be formally implemented, butprobably still subordinated to and resisted by the old general form of theactivity.

Suppose that a doctor, working on such a newwholistic and integrated basis, orders or suggests that the patient shallaccept a new habit or conception andchange his way of life in some respect. The patient may react withresistance. This is an instance of the quaternary contradictions. The patient'sway of life or his 'health behavior' is here the object-activity. If patients are regarded as abstractsymptoms and diseases, isolated from their activity contexts, it will beimpossible to grasp the developmental dynamics of the central activity, too.

Contradictions are not just inevitable features ofactivity. They are "the principle of its self-movement and (...) the formin which the development is cast" (Ilyenkov 1977, 330). This means that new qualitative stagesand forms of activity emerge as solutions to the contradictions of thepreceding stage of form. This in turn takes place in the form of 'invisiblebreakthroughs'.

"In reality it always happensthat a phenomenon which later becomes universal originally emerges as anindividual, particular, specific phenomenon, as an exception from the rule. Itcannot actually emerge in any other way.Otherwise history would have a rather mysterious form.

Thus, any new improvement oflabour, every new mode of man's action in production, before becoming generallyaccepted and recognised, first emerge as a certain deviation from previouslyaccepted and codified norms. Having emerged as an individual exception fromthe rule in the labour of one or several men, the new form is then taken overby others, becoming in time a new universalnorm. If the new norm did notoriginally appear in this exact manner, it would never become a reallyuniversal form, but would exist merely in fantasy, in wishful thinking."(Ilyenkov 1982, 83-84.)

After this important conclusion, Ilyenkov proceedsby pointing out that in thinking, a truly developed concept "directlyincludes in it a conception of the dialectics of the transformation of theindividual and the particular into the universal" (Ilyenkov 1982, 84).Recall here Leont'ev's point about the development of individual actions intoactivity. Leont'ev spoke of "reflecting the relation of the motive of agiven, concrete activity to the motive of a wider activity". This kind of'reflecting' is actually the same thing as Ilyenkov's 'developed concept'. Theyare both preliminary formulations of the psychological and epistemologicalsubstance of learning activity.

In Chapter 3, I shall elaborate further on theanalysis of contradictions as successive forms of the expansive development ofa new activity.

ON THE CULTURAL EVOLUTION OF HUMAN LEARNING

"'Learning activity' cannot beinvented or simply be found by chance and afterwards be shaped into systematictheoretical concepts.

Nor does 'learning activity'represent a pedagogical idea as such, that can be explained in terms of the historyof pedagogical thinking, for instance in terms of 'self-activity' inRenaissance pedagogy.

Nor is 'learning activity' beingdeveloped out of learning in school in some evolutionary and immanent way, asfor example out of growing complexity of the organization and institution ofinstruction and school.

'Learning activity' ratherrepresents a fundamentally new type of learning in school, being fundamentallyopposite to a thousand-year-old tradition of learning in school."(Fichtner 1985, 47.)

In other words, the concept of learning activity canonly be constructed through a historical analysis of the inner contradictionsof the presently dominant forms of societally organized human learning.

The original forms of human learning are those wherelearning appears predominantly as an unintentional and inseparable aspect ofthe basic work activity (Alt 1975; Wilhelmer 1979). In terms of activity theory, this kind of incidentallearning consists of non-conscious learningoperations, embedded in the daily participation in joint work.

The emergence of first distinct, specialized formsof transmisson of knowledge and experience brings about the first conscious learning actions. Three such early formsof transmission may be identified.

The first is situated in the uppermost subtriangle'production' within the structure of Figure 2.6. Fichtner (1985, 49) calls it"the transmission of handicrafts". It is embedded in the immediatecontext of productive work and directed to the single person, the individualapprentice. The second form of early transmission is situated in thesubtriangle 'distribution'. It is essentially learning to divide and controlthe production and distribution of surplus; it could be called 'theapprenticeship of power' - not surprisingly the least well known of the threeforms of primitive transmission. Finally, the third form of early transmissionis situated in the subtriangle 'exchange'. Initiation ceremonies are a typicalexample of this form.

"(...) here, systematicinstruction is disconnected from 'seriousness' and from any connection toeveryday life and working in a spatial and temporal way. (...) Nothing isproduced here, there is only demonstration of how to behave. This'demonstrating' can appear in quite different ways, but it is always directedto behavior in its social dimension (...) never orientated to a single personbut always to the whole group." (Fichtner 1985, 49-50.)

These three early forms of transmission generatesuch specific learning actions as 'conscious imitation', 'conscious memorizing'and 'conscious trial-and-error'. This does not mean that such 'higher-order'cognitive performances as forming and testing hypotheses do not exist. They dotake place (see Leakey & Lewin 1983, 102-105), but not as actions aimed specificallyat learning. Rather, they appear as actions aimed at solving problems of theproduction, distribution and exchange themselves - not as actions aimed at learning to solve those problems. Specific learning actions are actions where 'the subject isconsciously aware of the object of the action as an object of learning', toparaphrase Zinchenko. Thus, learning actions (even those of the first form oftransmission), are already'off-line' from the viewpoint of the immediate aims of work activity. For thatvery reason, they remain relatively simple. Complicated reflective actions maybe necessary in exceptional situations of the work activity. But it would beirrational to train novices with learning tasks of such exceptional kind.

From this point on, the cultural evolution of humanlearning must be analyzed in a differentiated manner. The prerequisites of theemergence of learning as an independent activity system may be found by tracingthe formation of learning actions within historically earlier types of societalactivity. In the preceding sections, I sketched three theoretical lineages leading to the concept ofactivity. In the following, I shall consider three activity types as practical lineages leading to the formation of learningactivity. These three are the activity of school-going, the activity of work,and the activities of science and art.

School is the central socially organized institutionwhich proclaims human learning as its objective. Schooling, or school-going asI shall here call it, is therefore an obvious candidate for the birthplace oflearning activity.

However, as I pointed out above, learning originallytakes place as an unintentional and inseparable aspect of the basic workactivity. Learning at the workplace has continued its own line of developmentrelatively independently of formal schooling. The historical transition fromcraft apprenticeship to industrial wage-labor is often regardedone-dimensionally as gradual elimination of the learning potential of work. Yetrecent empirical studies have seriously challenged this view, making workactivity another candidate demanding closer analysis.

Learning has been characterized as a search fortruth and beauty. On the other hand, science and art define themselves asactivities dedicated to the search of those very same values. The differencebetween science/art and learning is commonly seen in that the former produce truth and beauty while the latter reproduces them. Inthe ideal case, it is said, learning also reproduces in essence the course ofscientific/artistic production. This implies that human learning at its best isa simplified reproduction of scientific research and artistic creation. Thisgives us sufficient grounds to consider science and art as the third candidatefor the birthplace of learning activity.

The first lineage: Learning within school-going

The early forms of transmission are not yet schools.We know that during the past two thousand years or so, school has been theincreasingly dominant organizationalform of human learning. Two questions arise. First: What madeschooling necessary? Second: What is the relationship between schooling andlearning activity?

To understand the emergence of schooling, we mustreturn to the difference between primary and secondary instruments. As long asthe secondary instruments - those "used in the preservation andtransmission of the acquired skills or modes of action" (Wartofsky) -remain specific representations,their transmission and acquisition can be carried out by means of discretelearning actions of the types named above. But the situation changesdramatically as soon as a truly general secondary instrument appears.Written language, more specifically that based on the phonetic alphabet, issuch a general instrument.

"Using a phonetic alphabet,writing was radically separated from each figurative symbolism. It has become asystem of signs, no longer representing things but words in such a way thatwords are visually present all at once, can be divided into segments and be puttogether again. (...) The letters of the phonetic alphabet no longer aresymbols for facts, objects of a natural, social or divine order, but they aresymbols for a process, namely symbols for the process of human speech.

So there is no object beingexpressed but a relation to an object. Now it is possible to note down anythingyou can talk about. In principle, the system gets constructive by this simplepossibility to combine." (Fichtner 1985, 50.)

Schools do indeed appear wherever people startreading and writing. In their very generality, reading and writing are suchabstract or indirect instruments that they cannot be learned by simplyparticipating in work activity. Writing seems to have been invented to helpdebit deliveries, register credits and compensations, stockpile and determinequantities of goods, write down capacities, volumes, amounts, sizes, incomes,etc. (see Schmandt-Besserat 1978).

"Writing and reading soon growto an administrative skill which can no longer be learnt spontaneously. (...)'Workshops for writing and reading' very early develop into writers' schoolsand then into writing schools which then do not only give instruction in theskilled techniques of reading and writing but also - to a certain extent -their contents. (...) To a remarkable extent, instruction and school emerge,being fully developed and perfected, at the very same time as do writtenlanguage and the necessity of its transmission." (Fichtner 1985, 49.)

Much good research has been made on thepsychological consequences of literacy ( e.g., Coulmas & Ehlich 1982;Havelock 1976; Olson, Torrance & Hildyard 1985; Ong 1982; Scribner &Cole 1981). Research of this kind has revealed impressive powers peculiar towritten language. In contrast to oral culture, written language entails adistinct tendency to decontextualization, to definiteness and expliciteness.Language acquires an autonomous, self-sufficient mode of existence - it becomestext. The storing, transport and transmission of knowledge are greatlyenhanced. Phonetical writing opens up the metalingustic function of language.Due to its fixed nature, text brings forth reflective awareness and analysis of language. This propertymakes possible important strides in the development of logical thinking.

One could think that such a powerful instrumentwould make schools centers of critical, productive and experimental activity -that all doors would be opened for imagination and reflective thinking. Butthis was not the case. Learning remained "reproductive and receptive"(Fichtner 1985, 51).

"(...) neither the traditionalwisdom peddled by the rhetoricians, not the theoretical analysis of thephilosophers, could contribute at all usefully to the solution of contemporaryproblems. (...) Except for the fact that it guaranteed literacy and certainhabits of industry and ordered thought, education impeded rather than helpedits possessors in the world of affairs (...). They (the Athenian educators; Y.E.) remained blind to the fact thatthe continued existence of their world turned upon the effective exercise ofmany skills; they overvalued the politician's arts and underestimated thegrowing consequence of administrative, economic, and technicalachievement." (Bolgar 1969, 48-49.)

But this 'betrayal' of the potentialities of textwas not restricted to the schools of the Hellenistic age. It was not causedonly by conditions 'external' to the instrument of written language. To thecontrary, the subsequent history of schooling in the Middle Ages testifies tothe the double-edged character of the text itself.

"The concentration of the'humaniora' on grammar, rhetoric and - above all - on dialectic, that is, theconcentration on the most general level of language seems very formal and to besupported by a concept of knowledge to which all reality is text. I would liketo regard this as the kernel of the Middle Ages' literacy. It forms a tight,figurative unity of formal symbols, the content and the analogies connectingthese symbols and the objects. In this figurative unity, knowledge is - inprinciple - static and non-changeable analogies.

For the Middle Ages, the identityof knowledge and text at the same time is the adequate form of the obligationsof knowledge itself. What really happened in instruction, especially in thefaculty arts, seems to correspond to this static conception. In the EuropeanMiddle Ages, knowledge is understanding texts. Getting to know reality means tolearn what authorities wrote about it. The recitation of texts is the most importantmeans of communication of scientific knowledge.

It forces a memorizing of what hasbeen heard and enormous techniques of recollection, especially when it wasn'tallowed to make notes. Learning is a continuous memorizing of given patterns, amoulding of an exemplary universality on the single, individual intellect:Learning is 'imitatio'. The constancyof knowledge is equivalent to a likewise non-developability of thelearning person. (...) The central principle in the medieval instruction, 'simultaneity',is an expression of just this non-developability of both, subject and object oflearning." (Fichtner 1985, 53-54.)

Written text thus becomes the central pillar of astatic, hierarchical world view, somehow very foreign to the critical potentialitiesof written language listed above.

"The paradox lies in the factthat the deadness of the text, its removal from the living human lifeworld, itsrigid visual fixity, assures its endurance and its potential for beingresurrected into limitless living contexts by a potentially infinite number ofliving readers." (Ong 1982, 81.)

In a similar vein, Leroi-Gourhan (1980, 264) speaksof the tendency of written text to"narrow down the images,to linearize the symbols rigorously", which eventually also means"an impoverishment of the means forexpressing irrationalmoments".

It may be argued that the emergence of modernscience, of the printing press,and of capitalism changed everything. According to Fichtner, the essential revolution was that of'setting free' the medieval signs, the decomposition of the seemingly absoluteidentity of sign and the denotation, of knowledge and the way it isrepresented.

"In a way, signs now havetheir new positions again and again, and that happens by active cognition.(...) Signs become means to develop ideas and - more important - means to shapeideas. On the other hand, reality as such can be organized in a quite newconstructive way: as empiricism. (...) The manifold forms of standardizingknowledge enable and facilitate its development. Tables, schedules, curves,maps, diagrams and models allow - to a previously unknown extent - to detectcontradictions, to discover and record relationships but also to make changesand supplements, to clear off open points and errors." (Fichtner 1985,55.)

Fichtner (1985, 54) argues that this implies ageneral change in the attitude toward knowledge. Knowledge becomes something tobe developed, implying "a concept of cognition as a process ofknowledge-construction".

It seems to me that accounts like that of Fichtner'sare basically correct in regard with the rather narrow 'learned communities' ofscience and letters. But I think these accounts underestimate the inertiainherent in text, especially as it continues to function within the schoolingof masses. This point is rathernicely summarized by Elizabeth Eisenstein in her discussion on the printingpress as an agent of change.

"Image worship gave way tobibliolatry among the masses of faithful in Protestant lands. At the same time,men of learning (whether Protestant or Catholic) often became less certain thanearlier scholars had been about the literal meaning of the sacred word."(Eisenstein 1985, 21.)

Thus, if we consider the basic forms of organized learning, not primarily scientific and artistic activities, adifferent picture emerges. 'Bibliolatry' is a fitting term in this context.

"Cathecisms and textbookspresented 'facts' or their equivalents: memorizable, flat statements that toldstraight-forwardly and inclusively how matters stood in a given field."(Ong 1982, 134.)

No doubt the emergence of general obligatory schoolsystems in the 19th century signaled a major change in the nature of educationand school learning. School-going became an activity required of each and everynew member of the society. Instead of church and religion, education orientedto science emerged as the integratingforce of society, as the new and higher form of generality. This meant that,for the first time in history, all people had to learn to carry out certainvoluntary and disciplined learning actions.

Still I maintain that the general transition tomodernity and public schooling has not been a qualitative breakthrough into learning activity. The seemingly endlessstream of literature on the crisis and obsoleteness of school learning shouldbe taken as a first symptomatic indication in favor of this claim.

But it would also be incorrect to blame the inherentproperties of text for the quality of schooling. Scribner and Cole (1981) haveconvincingly demonstrated that literacy, mastery of written language, may beacquired also without school-goingand literacy alone does not have the same cognitive consequences as literacythrough schooling. So far, I have merely endeavoured to point out thedouble-edged nature of text as an instrument. The task is now to place thisinstrument in the general context of the activity of school-going.

According to Sharp, Cole and Lave (1979), thecognitive effects of schooling are found in tasks emphasizing paradigmatic relations between words and demandingreadiness to solve problems 'for their own sake', independent of theirrelationship to problem solving outside the school. This conclusion issubstantiated by recent studies comparing people's performances in everydayproblem tasks and in school-like tasks with analogous structure.

"There appear to bediscontinuities between problem-solving in the supermarket and arithmeticproblem-solving in school. School problems seem designed primarily to elicitthe learning and display of procedures, using set inputs. School lessons arefraught with difficulty and failure for many students. On the other hand,extraordinarily successful arithmetic activity takes place in situationsoutside school. (...) Researchers in the Adult Math Project discovered that allparticipants had poor opinions of their arithmetic practices ineveryday settings. They apologized for not doing what they called 'real math' -the math taught in school. This is especially interesting in the face of theirextraordinary arithmetic efficacy in kitchen and supermarket." (Lave 1985,174.)

The essential peculiarity of school-going as the activity of pupils is thestrange 'reversal' of object and instrument. In societal practice text (includingthe text of arithmetic algorithms) appears as a general secondary instrument.In school-going, text takes the role of the object. This object is molded bypupils in a curious manner: the outcome of their activity is above all the sametext reproduced and modified orally or in written form (summarized, classified,organized, recombined, and applied in a strictly predetermined manner to solvewell-structured, 'closed' problems). As Gladwin (1985, 209) says, "schooltakes away the sense of problem and substitutes hierarchies ofabstraction".

"On the whole, the generalscheme of such education is the same as that of the Middle Ages when a literatemaster transferred his utilitarian skills to his apprentices. Generally, themaster himself did not realize in what way these skills appeared, on whatbasis they can be actually universal and applicable in all the situations, orhow to find the possibilities of application of these skills in unexpectedsituations unlike those in which they had been mastered. As for the pupils,they received from their teacher the ready form of notions and skills withoutasking themselves about the universal premises of their emergence andformation. Besides, they master these notions by way of continuous excercises,adapting themselves to their ready models (...).

Such education is a form of practical interaction of children and adults oriented to masteringready utilitarian results of previous human activity. Naturally, the very meansof obtaining these results, the very means of comprehending the condition oftheir origin and further formation remain outside both teacher's and pupil'sconsciousness and outside the real educational process." (Davydov 1982,39.)

This has two important implications. First, sincethe dominant task is to reproduce and modify the given text, the role of thetext in the societal practice, in the activity systems where it is created andused, is necessarily of peripheral importance. In other words, text becomes aclosed world, a dead object cut off from its living context. Second, since textis not employed as instrument, a chronic 'instrumental poverty' arises inschool-going. Dominant primaryinstruments are pencils and pens, erasers and notebooks. Dominant secondaryinstruments are formal study techniques. If texts were treated as livingobject-systems (as in literary criticism and historical research, for example),the ridiculous inadequacy of these instruments would be readily transparent.

In capitalism, these features of the activity ofschool-going are further determined by the primary contradiction of thissocio-economic formation, the double nature of commodity as a unity of valueand use value. The constituent elements of this activity appear to the pupil intwo competing forms. Thus, the object 'text' has a twofold meaning. First ofall, it is a dead object to be reproduced for the purpose of gaining grades orother 'success markers' which cumulatively determine the future value of thepupil himself in the labor market.On the other hand, text tendentially also appears as a living instrumentof mastering one's own relation to society outside the school. In this respect,the school text possesses potential use value. As the object of the activity isalso its true motive, the inherently dual nature of the motive of school-goingis now visible.

The structure of the activity of school-going incapitalism may be depicted with the help of a diagram (Figure 2.8). Notice thatwhen I here and later speak of capitalism, I do not imply that analogous contradictionswould disappear in socialism. But I do imply that we cannot dump these twosocio-economic formations under one rubric of 'industrialized societies'. Theinner contradictions of activities in socialism require their own analysis.

Figure 2.8: The primary contradiction of theactivity of school-going

In the activity of school-going, certain learningactions are cultivated systematically. But as a whole, school-going is a farcry from learning activity. Pupils remain subjects of separate learningactions, not of a whole system of learning activity.

The essential difference is to be found in theobject. My contention is that the object of learning activity cannot be reducedto text. Such a reduction normally leads to the minimization of the productivityof learning (text as a dead object), and even in the best case to the narrowingdown of productivity into intellectualism (production of text only).

But who says learning should or could be productive?Is it not enough that we solve the problem of internalization, as Bereiterurges us to do? Are there really some objective grounds or forces which justifythe claim that a new productive type of human learning is about to emerge? Andif so, what will be the object of this new learning activity?

The inner contradiction of school-going, depicted inFigure 2.8, produces continuously also 'deviant' pupil actions toward theuse-value aspect of this activity.The history of the school is also a history of inventing tricks forbeating the system, and of protesting and breaking out. But although theseactions are age-old, they have not expanded into a new type of activity - intolearning activity. No doubt the inner contradiction of school-going becomesincreasingly aggravated as today's pupils are at an early age intensively drawninto the market as relatively independent consumers, even as producers ofexchange values (as computer hackers, as sport stars and performers, etc.).When the pupils' direct participation in the societal production is intensified,the 'holding power' of the school is endangered. In this respect, school-going may well be approaching acrisis of new qualitative dimensions. Whether this will mean a breakthroughinto learning activity in school - that remains to be seen.

The contradictions and forces leading to learningactivity obviously cannot be found exclusively within school-going. The schooldoes not have a monopoly of organized human learning. To the contrary, thepreceding analysis indicates that learning within school has remained and islikely to remain with remarkable persistence a series of more or lessdisconnected though systematically repeated learning actions (for a nicehistorical specimen on the persistence of recitation, see Hoetker &Ahlbrand 1969; for a general historical account, see Cuban 1984). These arecomplemented by equally disconnected 'deviant' and emancipatory actions. Thesymptoms of a deeper qualitative change in school learning are still premature.

Learning actions appear with increasing frequencywithin other activities, too. Two such fundamental activity types are work activity on the one hand and the activities of scientific research and artistic creation onthe other hand.

The second lineage: Learning within work activity

While schools are organized around the instrument ofwritten language, learningcontinues within work practice, too. Learning on the job is usually consideredinferior to learning in school: more restricted, even crippling in itsadherence to fixed routines. This conception gains impetus asindustrialization, mechanization and Taylorization wipe out the traditionalhandworkers' craftsmanship.

"Not as with the instrument,which the worker animates and makes into his organ with his skill and strength,and whose handling therefore depends on his virtuosity. Rather, it is themachine which possesses skill and strength in place of the the worker, isitself the virtuoso, with a soul of its own in the mechanical laws actingthrough it (...). The worker's activity, reduced to a mere abstraction ofactivity, is determined and regulated on all sides by the movement of themachinery, and not the opposite. The science which compels the inanimate limbsof the machinery, by their construction, to act purposefully, as an automaton,does not exist in the worker's consciousness, but rather acts upon him throughthe machine as an alien power, as the power of the machine itself." (Marx1973, 692-693.)

In the sociology of work, theories of alienation,dequalification and polarization of the labor force gradually become thedominant credo, presented masterfully in Braverman's Labor and Monopoly Capital(1974) - with the telling subtitle The Degradation of Work in the Twentieth Century.

Theories of dequalification and polarization arebased on the tacit assumption that the qualifications of different kinds ofwork can be compared and quantitatively measured with a common universalyardstick. Thus, it is always a question of 'higher' or 'lower', 'more' or'less' qualified work. In closer scrutiny, the criterion of measurement (oftencharacterized as 'autonomy' or'variety of tasks') turns out to be taken from the ideal model of handicraft.Against this background, it is naturally found that in modern mechanized orautomated factory the workers' qualifications are 'lower' than in handwork. Inother words, there really is very little left of the original quality ofhandicraft. In that meaning, work has indeed been 'degraded'. But thisargumentation is based on a rear-mirror perspective. The qualificationcomparisons and prognoses remain abstract and hollow, and very vulnerable empirically. They have about the sametheoretical status as a comparison stating that medieval serfs were 'morefree'/'less free' than ancient Roman slaves. The possibility that something qualitatively new might be developing in the new form of industrial work,replacing the vanishing handwork qualifications, is tacitly set aside. Whatreally would be needed is a qualitatively new yardstick for the new type ofwork.

This new yardstick is to be found in theradically increased societal character and productivity of work. In terms of activity theory,this means that in industrial capitalism it is increasingly difficult for theindividual worker to grasp and master the total work activity in which heperforms only comparatively small subordinated actions. The sheer volume aswell as the technological, economic and organizational complexity of theproduction process of the plant or firm seem to be absolutely overwhelming foran individual. The whole machinery seems to run by itself, directed byscientific management and planning far beyond the reach of the worker. Thisimmediate appearance gives plenty of nourishment for theories ofdequalification.

But strangely enough, theories of dequalificationand polarization have all but collapsed within the last five years or so. Tenyears after Braverman's book, the so far leading European proponents ofpolarization theory, Horst Kern and Michael Schumann, after a new cycle ofcomprehensive empirical datacollection, made a full break withtheir earlier stance and published a book named The End of Division of Labor?(1984). And this is nota lonely phenomenon, rather a symbol of the general turn of the tide, startedalready a few years earlier (see Wood 1982; for a review of literature, seeWood 1987). What has caused this change?

"(...) to the degree thatlarge industry develops, the creation of real wealth comes to depend less onlabour time and on the amount of labour employed than on the power of theagencies set in motion during labour time, whose 'powerful effectiveness' isitself in turn out of all proportion to the direct labour time spent on theirproduction, but depends rather on the general state of science and on the progressof technology, or the application of this science to production. (...) Labourno longer appears so much to be included within the production process; rather,the human being comes to relate more as watchman and regulator to theproduction process itself. (What holds for machinery holds likewise for thecombination of human activities and the development of human intercourse.) Nolonger does the worker insert a modified natural thing [Naturgegenstand ] asmiddle link between the object [Objekt ]and himself; rather, he inserts the process of nature, transformed into anindustrial process, as a means between himself and inorganic nature, masteringit. He steps to the side of production process instead of being its chiefactor. In this transformation, it is neither the direct human labour he himselfperforms, nor the time during which he works, but rather the appropriation ofhis own general productive power, his understanding of nature and his masteryover it by virtue of his presence as a social body - it is, in a word, thedevelopment of the social individual which appears as the greatfoundation-stone of production and of wealth. The theft of alien labour time, on which the present wealth is based, appears as a miserable foundationin face of this new one, created by large-scale industry itself. As soon aslabour in the direct form has ceased to be the great well-spring of wealth,labour time ceases and must cease to be its measure, and hence exchange value[must cease to be the measure] of use value. The surplus labour of the masshas ceased to be the condition for the development of generalwealth, just as the non-labour of thefew, for the development ofthe general powers of the human head. With that, production based on exchangevalue breaks down (...). Capital itselfis the moving contradiction, [in] that it presses to reduce labour timeto a minimum, while it posits labour time, on the other side, as sole measureand source of wealth. (...) On the one side, then, it calls to life all thepowers of science and of nature, as of social combination and of socialintercourse, in order to make the creation of wealth independent (relatively)of the labour time employed on it. On the other side, it wants to use labourtime as the measuring rod for the giant social forces thereby created, and toconfine them within the limits required to maintain the already created valueas value." (Marx 1973, 704-706.)

This aspect in Marx's visionary analysis isregularly neglected by theorists of dequalification. Is there any real basis toit?

Consider the nuclear power plant accident at ThreeMile Island in 1979.

"A nuclear reactor has beendescribed as a very complicated way to boil water. One of the key problems iscontrolling the immense heat generated by nuclear fission. A nuclear powerplant therefore is an elaborate plumbing system of intricate water and steampipes designed to draw off the excess heat not used to drive the steam turbineand generate electricity.

The accident at Three Mile Islandbegan when two water pumps failed, causing water temperature and pressureinside the reactor to soar. A feedback device correctly shut down the reactor,but the excess heat triggered several other breakdowns that intensified thethreat to the entire system. A relief valve, which automatically opened to ventexcess steam, remained stuck in the open position. Inside the reactor core,steam was interfering with the primary cooling system, leaving the hot corepartly uncovered, and threatening the ultimate disaster, a meltdown.

All of these events happened withinthe first few minutes of the accident. This was an entirely unanticipatedemergency of multiple, accelerating breakdowns involving high temperature and lowpressure. It overwhelmed both the computer and the human workers inthe TMI control room. More than a hundred different alarm lights lit up thecontrol board, each signaling a different malfunction. By midmorning, thecomputer had a three hour backlog of data waiting to be printed out, whichworkers desperately needed in order to determine the cause of the breakdown,the extent of the damage, and the corrective measures that were still possible.At one point, the computer began printing out question marks. Workersfrantically leafed through the 'Emergency Procedures' manuals, but thisparticular emergency had not been foreseen. It was several hours before workersand engineers sorted out what had happened." (Hirschhorn 1982, 42-43.)

One clear conclusion from the accident is that"insufficient, rote training produced workers who could not adapt to thedemands of an emergency which the system did not anticipate" (Hirschhorn1982, 44).

"(...) workers in cybernatedsystems cannot function as passive machine tenders, looking to instructionmanuals for the appropriate response. This suggests an entirely new definitionof work in a post-industrial setting. Skills can no longer be defined in termsof a particular set of actions, but as a general ability to understand how asystem functions and to think flexibly in trying to solve problems.

At Three Mile Island, of course,workers were inflexible in their conceptual approach, because they had beentrained to be inflexible. Notwithstanding the new technology and new demands onthe workforce, managers and engineers in traditional industries remain highlyreluctant to introduce workers to questions of system design, or to trainworkers to think conceptually beyond a limited list of specified responses toanticipated problems.

(...) Real accidents, however,often procede through a train of events, a set of interdependent failures(where one failure increases the probability that another will occur) and ininteraction with the workers." (Hirschhorn 1982, 45.)

What is the general weight of an argument based onsuch an extreme case? Hirschhorn (1982, 46) points out two pertinent facts.Firstly, "increasingly, manufacturing is placing workers in the controlroom rather than on the assembly line". Secondly, "just as workersmust respond to emergencies, so must they be ready to control the controls whennew machinery is introduced or new products are manufactured".

This kind of development raises the innercontradictions of work up to the surface.

"The logic of thepost-industrial workplace leaves both management and labor in a paradoxicalposition. Management's traditional interest in keeping control requires workerswith limited skills and aspirations. But to protect their machinery, managementneeds highly skilled workers who are trained to think independently.

(...) Effective training mightrequire teams: in a crisis like the Three Mile Island emergency, for example,where the crucial need is accurate diagnosis, each worker needs to have somefamiliarity with the tasks and skills of other workers. Otherwise thediagnostic process breaks down. (...) But work teams tend to flatten hierarchyand challenge traditional management notions of supervision and control.

Like managers, trade unionists alsofind themselves in a contradictory position. Worker solidarity requires unionsto emphasize the class divide that separates workers and managers, but in doingso unions underplay the professional character of control room work. At thesame time, unions need to protect the skills and increase the competence ofworkers to prevent demoralization and vulnerability in the face oftechnological change." (Hirschhorn 1982, 46-47.)

Marx pointed out that labour time 'appears as amiserable foundation' in conditions of automation. The idea ofcost-effectiveness, of squeezing out more 'output' per hour, is indeed amiserable foundation for managing production processes like the one at ThreeMile Island.

The release of methyl isocyanite (MIC) at the UnionCarbide plant in Bhopal India on the night of December 2, 1984, killed andblinded thousands of people. This catastrophe makes it abundantly clear why thesaving of labour time is such a miserable foundation in automated production.

"When the plant was startedup, (...) only individuals with university degrees or technical school diplomaswere hired as operators - and 'subjected to six months' theoretical trainingand then trained on the job.' By the time of the accident, operators had beentaken on without academic science backgrounds - some were simply transferred infrom other units or plants - and nobody was being given the original rigoroustraining.

The size of the staff was alsoreduced (...). Initially, the crew included twelve operators, threesupervisors, and two maintenance supervisors; a superintendent responsible forabout half the operations at the plant was also on duty during each shift. InDecember 1984, the MIC crew included six operators and one supervisor. The wasno maintenance supervisor on the night shift, and the superintendent on dutyhad responsibility for the entire plant." (Krigman 1985, 13.)

Hirschhorn's argumentation is further enriched bythe findings of Jens Rasmussen, one of the most prominent researchers of humanerror reports.

"What bothers me is that theexplanations of major industrial incidents in terms of human errors are oftenbased on superficial analysis which result in ad hoc changes of thesystem and, almost invariably, in recommendations for better training togetherwith 'stricter administrativecontrol of the adherence to instructions'. Needless to say, we have goodevidence that this will not solve the problem - especially when at the sametime the acceptable probability of the release of potential accidents issteadily decreasing." (Rasmussen 1980, 97-98.)

Rasmussen presents data on the character of 200reports of 'operational problems' in nuclear power plants. The error modes towhich Rasmussen ascribes greatest substantial importance are those ofinadequate consideration of latent causes and inadequate consideration of sideeffects in selecting procedures.

"These two kinds of error arevery probably related to difficulty of the human mind to keep track of thespread of events in the complex causal net of a technical system. Constructiverecall of a procedure, or modification of a procedure to fit specialcirc*mstances, demands simultaneous consideration of several potential causalconditions and possible side effects of the intended actions. This is difficultfor unsupported, linear natural language reasoning due to the limitations ofworking memory.

(...) In large installations, wealso have to consider rare events for which operators cannot be prepared bytrained procedures. In such cases, the operator has to generate properprocedures by functional evaluation and causal reasoning based on knowledgeabout system properties." (Rasmussen 1980, 105-106.)

Rasmussen's conclusion touches the core of thecontradiction.

"The essence of this argumentis that the development towards large, centralized installations has nowreached a state where the design and operation of many systems can no longer beconsidered separate activities which are effectively decoupled by acommissioning test period. Effective feed-back of operational experience,especially concerning the co-performance of system and staff during the entireplant life is important for acceptable systems design. (...) To cope withunplanned situations and to co-operate effectively with automaticinstrumentation and control functions, operating staff needs much moresystematic access to the information base, performance criteria and decisionstrategies used by designers." (Rasmussen 1980, 112-113; see alsoRasmussen, Duncan & Leplat 1987.)

Very similar analyses have recently been presentedby specialists in other branches of industrial production, including smallbatch production with NC-machines (Bršdner 1985) and flexible manufacturingsystems [FMS] (Kšhler, Schultz-Wild & Lutz 1983; Toikka, HyštylŠinen &Norros 1986). Cherns (1980, 264) summarizes the argumentation by pointing out ageneral shift of skills "away from deciding how to act in this situationtowards deciding what kind ofsituation this is"; inother words, "as in modern medicine, treatment becomes routine, diagnosisbecomes the key".

The primary inner contradictions of modern work, situated withinthe corners of the structure of activity and stemming from its dualcommodity

character, may now be sketched with the help of thefamiliar diagram (Figure 2.9).

The two poles of the contradiction within eachcorner of the model suggest two competing alternative strategies both for themanagement and for the trade unions. Bršdner (1985) has identified these twostrategies as the strategy of 'the unmanned factory' and the strategy of'skill-based production'. It should be noted that, contrary to thesingle-minded optimism of some representatives of the socio-technical school(e.g., Cherns 1980; Davis 1980), we are dealing here with real contradictions,that is, with developments where both sides of the contradiction co-exist, struggleand penetrate each other.

Figure 2.9: The primary contradiction of modern workactivity

In terms of activity theory, we may say that thereis on the one hand the object-activity (appearingin the form of market demands) requiring highquality, flexibility, variability andshort delivery times from the products,which in turn require complex programmable cybernated instruments. However, there is an acute conflict between thesefactors and the striving for immediate cost-efficiency, manifested above all inthe polar and compartmentalized divisionof labor. In effect,industrial capitalism has split the work activity in two basic layers of actions, those of operating or performing and those of design andmanagement.

The increasingly societal nature of work processes,their internal complexity and interconnectedness as well as their massivevolumes in capital and capacity, are making it evident that, at least inperiods of acute disturbance or intensive change, no one actually quite mastersthe work activity as a whole, though the control andplanning of the whole is formally in the hands of the management. This createssomething that might be called 'grey zones' (Projekt Automation undQualifikation 1981), areas of vacuum or 'no man's land', where initiative anddetermined action from practically any level of the corporate hierarchy mayhave unexpected effects.

What has this got to do with the emergence oflearning activity? The answer is rather obvious. There is an objectivepressure, manifesting itself in various forms, toward taking over the mastery of the whole work activity into thehands of the people who participate in that activity. This pressure is felt on both sides of the primarycontradiction. Both the strategy of 'the unmanned factory' and the strategy of'skill-based production' require, in opposite ways, major qualitative changeand expansion in the practical and cognitive steering of work. The formerstrategy promises to practically exclude the unreliable and costly humanoperator. The latter builds on the flexibility and inventiveness of the verysame operator.

To gain mastery of the whole work activity means tomove from actions to activity in the sense tentatively characterized byLeont'ev and Ilyenkov. As I pointed out earlier, the expansive form of thistransition implies that the actions themselves are objectively transformed.Moreover, such a transition requires 'reflecting the relation of the motive ofa given, concrete activity to the motive of a wider activity' (Leont'ev). Inother words, the subjects must become aware of the contradictory nature oftheir present work activity and relate it to a future form of the work activity'that realises a broader, more general life relation that includes the given, concrete activity' (meaningthat the given form of work is not eliminated or replaced at once). This is atall order that cannot be accomplished without 'a certain, special activity' ofnew type - learning activity.

The argument presented so far might be interpretedto indicate that the shoots of learning activity emerge within work activityonly on the soil provided by advanced automation. I contest this conception,widespread among the 'post-dequalification' sociologists of work. Thecontradictions of work activity described above have in principle existed sincethe maturation of capitalism. New cybernated technologies have aggravated thosecontradictions and made them visible. But, as Figure 2.9 implies, changes inthe objects, market conditions and products may be of equal or greaterimportance in this aggravation. It is systemic and holistic change, not amonocausal one.

"(...) firms following thisstrategy (of 'the unmanned factory'; Y.E.)would suffer from relative inflexibility with respect to both alteration ofbatches and process innovation. This is due to the fact that every change of acustomer order or a piece of production equipment has first to be modelled inthe computer system. In the long run the firm might even loose its innovativecapability, since production knowledge and creativity on the human side havebeen wasting away over time. All this is in contrast to marketrequirements." (Bršdner 1985, 2.)

This means that the pressure and demand for learningactivity is not necessarily restricted to work activities employing costlyadvanced technologies. Other work activities facing new kinds of marketconditions and product demands may well contain similar possibilities ofbreakthrough. This is demonstrated by Donald Schšn for professional work.

"In such fields as medicine,management, and engineering, for example, leading professionals speak of a newawareness of a complexity which resists the skills and techniques oftraditional expertise. As physicians have turned their attention fromtraditional images of medical practice to the predicament of the larger healthcare system, they have come to see the larger system as a 'tangled web' thattraditional medical knowledge and skill cannot untangle. How can physiciansinfluence a massively complex health care system which they do not understandand of which only a very small fraction is under their direct control?

(...) The situations of practiceare not problems to be solved but problematic situations characterized byuncertainty, disorder, and indeterminacy." (Schšn 1983, 14-16.)

The third lineage: Learning within science and art

In the centuries from 1300 to 1600, three layers ofintellectuals could be identified in European culture: the university scholars,the humanists, and the skilled artisans (engineers, artists, healers,navigators, and the like). The university scholars and humanists were trainedin logical thinking, but they despised handwork and experimentation.

"Thus the two components ofscientific method were separated by a social barrier: logical training wasreserved for the learned of the upper class; experimentation, causal interestand quantitative methods were more or less left to the plebeian artisans.Science was born as, along with technological advance, the experimental methodfinally overcame the social prejudices against handwork and was taken over byrationally educated scholars. This was accomplished around 1600 (Gilbert,Galilei, Bacon). (...) The whole process was embedded in the development ofearly capitalism which weakened the collective consciousness, magic thinkingand belief in authority, pushing forward secular, causal, rational andquantitative thinking." (Zilsel 1976, 49.)

But what is the difference between science andhandwork?

"As long as natural forces areused in work as effects and properties of certain natural objects, notscientific cognition but knowledge about the things and their properties (...)is required as the intellectual moment of work. In contrast, scientificcognition is required when it is a question of using natural forces in their general form." (Lefvre 1978, 23; italics added.)

This implies that the object of science is not theexternal world of natural and cultural objects or events as some kind ofself-sustained virgin rawmaterial. Such a virgin material does not exist. AsWartofsky (1979, 206) notes, nature becomes transformed, not only in the directpractical way of becoming cultivated, or shaped into objects of use, "itbecomes transformed as an object or arena of action, so that the forest or theriver itself becomes an 'artifact' in this ramified sense". Already byobserving and describing an object, man incorporates it into the sphere of hiscultural construction. Without these acts, it does not exist for him as anobject.

"We never make concreteoccurrences as such the object of explanation, ratherit is always a question of occurrences considered through a certain description. Instead of mere spatio-temporal chunks, we try toexplain ones described in a certain way." (Jensen1978, 27.)

The true object of science is the general in nature and culture - or in culturally penetratednature and naturally penetrated culture. As Malinowski (1944,11) observes,"we find, first and foremost, the isolation of the real and relevantfactors in a given process". Scientific activity begins with the isolationof the general, although "often in spite of the conscious logical preceptsand maxims that its representatives profess" (Ilyenkov 1977, 361). We cansay with Peter Ruben (1978, 20) that science is "universal labor"which "makes objects isolated from the surrounding world into models ofgeneral determinations".

Science tries to capture and fixate the general intomodels. Models are simultaneously secondary instruments and outcomes ofscience. But science cannot be understood without the sensitive link oftransmission and translation of scientific models into secondary instruments ofwork or other productive practice outside science - something Malinowski (1944,11) calls the necessary ingredient of "control of academic discourse bypractical application".

The object of science is the general, but thegeneral is not directly available. It must be constructed through a complexseries of actions, beginning with preliminary isolation and description of"a field for experiment or observation" (Malinowski 1944, 11). Thisis the paradox of science: its object is and is not there. This slippery,transitional character of the object of science is in fact the very essence ofthis activity. It is a special kind of indirectness. The object must be 'fetched' fromthe world, as it were, but it only becomes an object after being transferedinto the reflective system of science - and back again. The problem in trueresearch is that the researcher doesn't exactly know what he is looking forbefore he has found it. If he knew it at the beginning, nothing new would bediscovered. Of course this aspect of unexpectedness resides in any productivework activity, too - but only as an aspect. In science it is the dominant motiveforce.

The general is slippery, first of all, because it is relational.

"The general is anything butcontinuously repeated similarity in every single object taken separately andrepresented by a common attribute and fixed by a sign. The universal is aboveall the regular connection of two (or more) particular individuals thatconverts them into moments of one and the same concrete, real unity. (...) Herethe general functions as the law or principle of the connection of thesedetails in the make-up of some whole, or totality (...)" (Ilyenkov 1977,350.)

Moreover, the general would not be general if itremained isolated and static. The general contains the expansive movement of'becoming' from the isolated to the interconnected, from the simple relation tothe complex system.

"The general includes andembodies in itself the whole wealth of details, not as the 'idea' but as aquite real, particular phenomenon with a tendency to become general, anddeveloping 'from itself' (by virtue of its inner contradictions) other just asreal phenomena, other particular forms of actual movement." (Ilyenkov1977, 369.)

Jacob Bronowski expresses the same expansive idea ofscience in more familiar words.

"A theory does not simplystate the facts: it shows them to flow from an inner order and imaginativearrangement of a few deep central concepts. That is the nature of a scientifictheory, and that is why I have called it the creation of the human mind. Ofcourse a good theory has practical consequences, and forecasts true results,which go beyond the facts from which it started. But these successful forecastsdo not make the theory true - they only show that it was even wider that itscreator supposed." (Bronowski 1978, 31.)

In a similar vein, Lefvre (1978, 115) points outthat as the modern natural science emerged, it only superficially seemed todivorce itself from practice. Actually it ranahead of practice, anticipating and paving wayfor "a stage of practice whose realization in material production requiredstill more than a hundred years of development".

But science itself has been industrialized andcommodified. It is increasingly organized into large research centers withintricate division of labor. Research operates with costly complex primaryinstruments, but secondary instruments (models and theories) seem to fall intoa myriad of disconnected micro-theories. The objects of science appear in theform of separate 'problems' or 'tasks' given from outside. Above all, scienceis tendentially reduced to its immediate products or results possessingexchange value in the 'science market' and being essentially known or fixed in advance (as 'customer's orders' or promisesfrom the researchers).

This commodification is experienced among the practitioners or 'users' ofscientific results, too.

"They gape at the discoveryfrom the outside, and they may find it strange or marvelous, but their findingis passive; they do not enter and follow and relive the steps by which the newidea was created. But no creative work, in art or in science, truly exists forus unless we ourselves help to recreate it." (Bronowski 1978, 23.)

The contradiction inherent in this development ismanifested in the poor productivity or 'problem-solving capacity' of science asthe tasks exceed certain limits in complexity. Various attempts to find reliefin 'holistic' philosophies (Bohm 1980) and cosmology (Toulmin 1982) bearwitness to the uneasiness felt with this state of science. These attemptstypically do not deal with the contradiction but rather paint pictures ofharmonious alternatives and utopias.

The essence of the contradiction is the tensionbetween the fixed, reified, predetermined nature of the exchange-value aspect of scientific objects on the one handand the transitional, expansive, unexpected nature of their use-value aspect on the other hand. Thismay be expressed with the help of the diagram (Figure 2.10).

Figure 2.10: The primary contradiction of theactivity of science

Here again, it is not a question of 'choosing' themore appealing alternative within each corner of the model. One has to takeboth. The contradiction cannot be swept away by moral decisions.

There is a fairly obvious kinship between scienceand art. Both are specifically indirect modes of imaginative, experimentalpractice, aimed at producing 'alternative worlds'.

"On this reconstruction, wemay speak of a class of artifacts which can come to constitute a relativelyautonomous 'world,' in which the rules, conventions and outcomes no longerappear directly practical, or which, indeed, seem to constitute an arena ofnon-practical, or 'free' play orgame activity. (...) So called'disinterested'perception, or aesthetic perception, or sheer

contemplation then becomes apossibility; but not in the sense that it has no use. Rather, in thesense that the original role of the representation has been, so to speak,suspended or bracketed.

(...) the construction ofalternative imaginative perceptual modes, freed from the direct representationof ongoing forms of action, and relatively autonomous in this sense, feeds backinto actual praxis, as a representation of possibilities which go beyondpresent actualities." (Wartofsky 1979, 208-209.)

But art is not science. Artistic activity has itsown peculiar object. According to Wartofsky (1979, 357), art "takes itself as its ownobject".

"(...) art represents its ownprocess of coming into being and (...) exemplifies and objectifies thedistinctively human capacity of creation. It is in the self-recognition of thiscreative capacity that human beings come to know themselves as human, in thespecific sense that they come to know themselves as creators or as artists.Thus it is not what is portrayed, or depicted whichprovides the humanizing content of the artwork, but rather the reading back ofthe very process of its genesis which makes the artwork an objectiverepresentation of human creativity.Art thus exemplifies or symbolizes the activity of art. The artist thusbecomes a model of the potentialities of human nature, of human creativity(...)." (Wartofsky 1979, 357.)

Art is a continuous indirect reflection of thecreative core of productive practice. Both science and art 'fetch' thesubstance of their objects from human productive practice (from the 'centralactivity' of Figure 2.7). Science enters this substance from the 'object'corner; art enters the same substance from the 'subject' corner. Both constructtheir objects in a 'distanced' or 'disinterested' manner, within their ownsystemic structure. And it is a matter of life and death for both to transferthe object back into the productive practice.

It must be kept in mind that "it is not theproduct - the artwork, the completed and dead image - which is the mirror ofhuman nature, but rather the process of artistic creation itself, andthe process of recreationin the act of aesthetic appreciation" (Wartofsky 1979, 362). Thisprocessual nature of the object of art is not linear. As Vygotsky pointed out, it is characterized byqualitative expansion and transformation.

"Art would have a dull andungrateful task if its only purpose were to infect one or many persons withfeelings. If this were so, its significance would be very small, because therewould be only a quantitative expansion and no qualitative expansion beyond anindividual's feeling. The miracle of art would then be like the bleak miracleof the Gospel, when five barley loaves and two small fishes fed thousands ofpeople, all of whom ate and were satisfied, and a dozen baskets were filledwith the remaining food. The miracle is only quantitative: thousands were fedand were satisfied, but each of them ate only fish and bread. But was this nottheir daily diet at home, without any miracles?

(...) The miracle of art reminds usmuch more of another miracle in the Gospel, the transformation of water intowine. Indeed, art's true nature is that of transsubstantiation, something thattranscends ordinary feelings; for the fear, pain, or excitement caused by artincludes something above and beyond its normal, conventional content. This'something' overcomes feelings of fear and pain, changes water into wine(...).Initially, an emotion is individual, and only by means of a work of art does itbecome social or generalized." (Vygotsky 1971, 243.)

The learning actions inherent in scientific andartistic activity are those of learning to imagine, learning to 'go beyond thegiven', not in the privacy of the individual mind but in public, materialobjectifications.

"A physicist experiments withmaterial situations whose properties he does not wholly know, and a poet triesto find his way through human situations which he does not wholly understand.Both are learning by experiment." (Bronowski 1978, 22.)

However, art, too, has become commodified. Wartofskyhas an interesting characterization of the effects of this process.

"When the activity becomesritual or automatic; when the object comes to be seen only in its surfaceappearances - e.g. as description or portrayal, as thematic content, or even assheer aesthetic surface (...), or as form alone - the human content of theartwork becomes transparent and redundant: it is seen through but not realized.In this case, one may speak of an alienated aesthetic consciousness, afetishism of the artwork, in which the object is taken as an autonomous andindependent reality." (Wartofsky 1979, 366-367.)

It is easy to see the similarity of this phenomenonwith the phenomena brought about by the industrialization of science. In bothcases, the counter-reaction is visible. As Wartofsky (1979, 368) notes,"the newer artforms focus on a return to the process: butperversely". What in science takes the form of search for wholism may beobserved in art in the form of 'institutionalized despair'. The learning actionsof experimentation and imaginative world-making, the most sophisticatedtechniques and skills of art and science, turn out to be insufficient for thepurpose of taking hold of the activity ofart or science itself as a whole, in its own commodified contradictoriness. For this, 'a certain specialactivity' of reflecting is required.

THE STRUCTURE OF LEARNING ACTIVITY

The argument presented so far may be summarized inthe following thesis.

1. Human learning begins in the form of learningoperations and learning actions embedded in other activities, phylogeneticallyabove all in work.

2. Learning activity has an object and a systemicstructure of its own. Its prerequisites are currently developing within earlieractivity types: school-going, work, and science/art. In the network of humanactivities, learning activity will mediate between science/art on the one handand work or other central productive practice on the other hand (Figure 2.11).

Figure 2.11: The place of learning activity in thenetwork of human activities

3. The essence of learning activity is production ofobjectively, societally new activity structures (including new objects,instruments, etc.) out of actions manifesting the inner contradictions of thepreceding form of the activity in question. Learning activity is mastery of expansion from actions to a newactivity. While traditionalschool-going is essentially a subject-producing activity and traditionalscience is essentially an instrument-producing activity, learning activity isan activity-producing activity.

But what is the specific object of learningactivity? What is its structure like?

The object of learning activity is the societalproductive practice, or the social life-world, in its full diversity andcomplexity. The productive practice, or the central activity, exists in itspresently dominant form as well as inits historically more advanced and earlier, already surpassed forms. Learningactivity makes the interaction of these forms, i.e., the historical developmentof activity systems, its object.

This object appears to the subject first in the formof discrete tasks, problems and actions. As Michael Cole (1983, 51) notes,"discovery of the goals is essential to true activity". Learningactivity (a) analyzes and connects these discrete elements withtheir systemic activity contexts, (b) transforms them into contradictions demandingcreative solution., and (c) expandsand generalizes them into aqualitatively new activity structure within societal productive practice.

According to V. V. Davydov (1982, 39), the motive oflearning activity is theoretical relationto the reality. In otherwords, the components (a), (b) and(c) above result in a theoretical reconstruction of the object. The concept oftheoretical relation to reality shall be subjected to closer elaboration inChapter 4.

By what means does this theoretical reconstructiontake place? The essential instruments of learning activity are models. With thehelp of models, the subject fixes and objectifies the essential relations ofthe object. However, the construction of theoretical models is accomplishedwith the help of a more general instrument - a methodology. Learning activitymay be conceived of as expansive movement from models to the methodology ofmaking models - and back.

Theoretical models and methodologies are entitiestypically produced by science and art. These instruments, however, cannot bedirectly taken over from science and art. Activity types differ from each otherin the extent and intensity to which they produce their own instruments.Science and art are activitiesstrongly oriented toward producing their own instruments. Although workactivities do also mold and produce their own instruments, they do it less intensively and aremore dependent on instruments produced by other activities.

Learning activity occupies the place between thesetwo. It uses the products of science and art, but they become usable forlearning activity only as they are recreated and reworked into more economical,as if stylized, representations than the original products of science andart. And this is not a question ofmere popularization or simplification for illustrative purposes. Learningactivity has much of the quality of play, "dissociating means and ends topermit exploration of their relation to each other" (Bruner 1985, 603).But learning activity is more than this. It is true development of instruments:'purification' by elimination of secondary or accidental features, variationand enrichment, testing novel connections and disconnections. By bringing theproducts of science and art into a new type of formative contact withproductive practice, learning activity introduces a new creative moment intothe activities of science and art themselves. In other words, learning activitynever leaves its instruments qualitatively intact. It is not just consumptionof instruments given from outside.

The structure of learning activity may now bepresented in diagrammatic form (Figure 2.12). The diagram shows the essentialquality of learning activity, namely its transitional and expansive character.

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Figure 2.12: The structure of learning activity

But what kind of a subject is required and producedby learning activity? This is very much a question of the quality ofconsciousness associated with learning activity. The problem of consciousnessin learning, in turn, is currently discussed under the conceptual umbrella of'metacognition'.

METACOGNITION AND THE SUBJECT OF LEARNING ACTIVITY

According to Flavell (1976, 232), metacognition"refers to one's knowledge concerning one's own cognitive processes andproducts or anything related to them, e.g., the learning-relevant properties ofinformation or data". Brown and DeLoache (1978) present a list of basicmetacognitive skills. These include predicting the consequences of an action orevent, checking the results of one's own actions, monitoring one's ongoingactivity, reality testing, and a variety of other behaviors for coordinatingand controlling deliberate learning and problem solving.

In another paper, Brown (1978) names the basicmetacognitive skills of checking, planning, asking questions, self-testing, andmonitoring.

"Perhaps it would be possibleto train the child to stop and think before attempting a problem, to askquestions of himself and others to determine if he recognizes the problem, tocheck his solutions against reality by asking not 'is it right' but 'is itreasonable,' and to monitor his attempts to learn to see if they are working orare worth the effort." (Brown 1978, 139.)

Recently Brown, Campione and Day (1982) havedeveloped further the idea of metacognition as the basis of 'learning tolearn'. They use a four-factor model of the learning situation as their pointof departure.

"In order to become expertlearners, students must develop some of the same insights as the psychologistinto the demands of the learning situation. They must learn about their owncognitive characteristics, their available learning strategies, the demands ofvarious learning tasks and the inherent structure of the material. They musttailor their activities finely to the competing demands of all these forces inorder to become flexible and effective learners." (Brown, Campione &Day 1982, 16-17.)

In other words, the authors have realized that themetacognitive skills do not exist and function in a vacuum. But thisrealization is formal. Regardless of the context and contents, themetacognitive skills remain qualitatively the same - it is just a question ofusing them in varying situations. A case in point is the skill of 'realitytesting' (asking 'does this make sense?'), mentioned by Brown. What does itmean to 'make sense'? Brown and her colleagues (Brown, Campione & Day 1982,20) stress the arbitrary character of the criterial tasks or objectives oflearning and the need to "tailor efforts accordingly". But what ifthe goal or task given to the learner does not make sense to him?This possibility is not discussed by the authors. To the contrary, since verbatimlearning of texts, for example, is often demanded by the school, it must beconsidered "a worthwhile activity" (Brown, Campione & Day1982,16). What first looks like the optimally self-directed and self-consciouslearner is actually the maximally flexible individual, finding the mostsuccessful technique of adaptation inany situation given by the authorities.

Thus, my first critique of Brown's approach isdirected against the use of the situation as the unit of metacognition.Situations are defined by tasks. They are typical action-level units,portraying human behavior as rational adaptive choice and cognitivecalculation. The possibility that the learner might himself create new situations is tacitly ruled out.

My second critique concerns the undialecticalconception of learning situations and tasks presented by Brown and hercolleagues. According to them, the four factors (characteristics of thelearners, learning strategies, criterial tasks, and structure of the materials)must be considered in a balanced manner. But there is no awareness of thepossibility that the tasks themselves might be inherently contradictory.Consider the following example.

"I observed the professor inone class beginning the term by explaining that the students were expected tobe creative and involved; in short, they were to be engaged. They would havethe opportunity to take intellectual risks, to make mistakes. (...) Five weekslater the first quiz was given. The students found they were asked to return alarge amount of information that they could only have mastered by memorization.(...) In spite of the professor's opening pronouncements, the hidden butrequired task was not to be imaginative or creative butto play a specific, tightly circ*mscribed academic game. The consequences forthe students varied: some became cynical and said, 'Okay, if that's the way youplay the academic game, if that's what he really wants, I won't make the samemistake again. Next time I'll memorize the key points.'" (Snyder 1973, 16-17.)

The students quoted by Snyder display the awakeningof a kind of metacognition in Brown's terms - metacognition for successfuladaptation to the exchange-value aspect of studying. But how about thestudents' nagging feeling of missing something beyond the game of success - thefeeling that knowledge should be acquired and used to master reality, to mastersocietal productive practice? If a student protests and eventually becomes a'troublemaker', is his metacognition poorly developed?

The essential question is: What is to bemetacognitively controlled and monitored? It would probably be fairly easy toobtain handsome results and transfer effects by teaching students suchmetacognitive skills as 'how to fool the teacher,' 'how to get good grades withminimum effort,' 'how to cheat successfully,' etc. The substantive logic ofthese skills corrersponds to the dominant exchange-value logic of schooling.

It follows from these two critical points that atruly high level of metacognitive awareness in learning requires (a) consciousanalysis and mastery of not just discrete learning situations but of thecontinuous activity context in which the situations are embedded (whether theybe situated within school-going, work, science, art, or some other activity),(b) not just balancing the components of the learning situation but 'seeingthrough' the inherent contradictoriness of the learning tasks, i.e., theirdouble nature as unities of exchange value and use value.

These are the two essential prerequisites for theemergence of the subject of learning activity. As indicated in Figure 2.12,this subject is a transitional being, beginning in individual and developinginto collective subjectivity. Its first spontaneous indications probably appearin the form of disturbing questions, counter-arguments, attempts to breakaway, and the like.

THE EMERGENCE OF LEARNING ACTIVITY IN THE ONTOGENESIS

Leont'ev (1981, 401-404) discusses the transitionfrom one leading activity to another in the ontogenesis. He uses the transitionfrom play to study as the example. In his example, a pupil in the first gradecannot be made to do his homework. The pupil knows well that the homework mustbe done, it is a duty which heaccepts in principle. But this 'understandable motive' is not effective:"another motive, however, is really effective, namely to get permission togo out and play" (Leont'ev 1981, 402).

Now, the child is told that he may go out to playonly after he has finished his homework. That does the trick and the pupil doeshis homework.

"Once, while copying somethingout, it suddenly stops and leaves the table, crying. 'Why have you stoppedworking?' it is asked. 'What's the good,' it explains, 'I'll just get a pass ora bad mark; I've written very untidily.'

This case reveals a new effectivemotive for its homework. It is doing its lessons now because it wants to get agood mark. (...)

The really effective motiveinducing the child to do its homework now is a motive that was previously 'onlyunderstandable' for it.

How does this transformation ofmotive come about? The question can be simply answered. It is a matter of anaction's result being more significant, in certain conditions, than the motivethat actually induces it. (...) A new 'objectivation' of its needs comes about,which means that they are understood at a higher level." (Leont'ev 1981,402-403.)

Leont'ev's account may be systematically presentedas a sequence of four steps.

(1) Along with the subject's dominant activity (forexample play), there is a culturally valued motive for a more advanced activity(for example studying). In the subject's consciousness, the latter exists as an'understandable' motive only.

(2) The representatives of culture induce by somemeans (e.g., rewards) the subject to engage in selected actions or componentsof the more advanced activity within the motivational framework of the earlieractivity.

(3) The 'understandable' motive of the more advancedactivity begins to be 'effective' as the selected actions representing it beginto produce results that exceed the limits of the motive of the earlieractivity. This transition manifests itself in disturbances - for example, theselected actions are temporarily terminated because the subject senses acutelytheir inadequate quality in relation to the emerging more advanced motive.

(4) Eventually, the new motive and activity takeover the leading role.

Leont'ev seeks the mechanism of emergence of newactivities in the contradiction between the motive of the previous activity andthe motive of the new, more advanced activity. The problem is the externalcharacter of this contradiction. It seems as if the seed of the conflict, thenew motive, were 'transplanted' from outside, by the wise men of the culture.In his account Leont'ev fails to penetrate into the inner contradiction within the previous activity.

This problem is visible in the characterization ofthe new, more advanced activity of Leont'ev's example. The new motive is supposed to be 'toget a good mark'. This would correspond to the exchange-value aspect of themotive of school-going. The whole inner contradictoriness of this motive ishere set aside.

The idea of inner contradictions of the existingdominant activity as the dynamic source of transition to the new activity wasformulated by El'konin (1977). He postulated two phases within the developmentof each leading activity in the ontogenesis. In the first phase, thesocio-emotional and motivational aspects of activity (the relations between thesubject and the others) dominate. Gradually, the mastery of theoperational-technical aspect (the relations between the subject, theinstruments, and the objects) improves, becoming dominant in the second phase.The contradiction arises as the operational-technical possibilities acquired bythe subject exceed the limits of the motive of the activity.

"The transition from oneperiod to the next is marked by a discrepancy between the child's operationaland technical capacities and the tasks and motives that constitute the fabricof which these capacities are woven." (El'konin 1977, 560-561.)

Davydov, Markova and Shumilin (1980) have appliedthis principle to the analysis of the ontogenetic emergence of learningactivity in the early school age. According to them, play produces the meansand operations of imagination and symbolic transformation.

"Developed imagination andsymbolic transformation start gradually to miss comprehensive and wide contentswhich could offer the child a possibility to use the hidden potentials of theseabilities. But play in itself cannot offer such contents to the child."(Davydov, Markova & Shumilin 1980, 11.)

The problem with this formulation is its ahistoricalnature. Inner contradictions of activities always take a form peculiar to thegiven socio-economic formation. In the conceptions cited above, the innercontradiction of play becomes abstract and universal.

What would be the quality of the inner contradictionof play activity peculiar to capitalism? If the object of play is imaginarypractice, the contradiction must exist in the double nature of this veryobject. Symptomatically, the words 'play' and 'imagination' awaken associationsof futility and escape, on the one hand - and of creative construction, on theother hand.

In her critique of the theories and practices ofrole-playing, Frigga Haug (1977) argues that in capitalist society role-playingis effectively reduced to pure interaction. It is socialization into flexiblerole exchange and intrinsic motivation withoutobjects and instruments. Thisabstract aspect of role play would be motivated simply by the peer contacts andrelease of energy offered in play situations.

The relative poverty of the objective andinstrumental aspect of play would mean that the inner contradiction of playactivity often remains latent and inarticulate - manifesting itself mainlyin complaints like 'mother, Idon't know what to play'. In the sphere of imaginary production, this wouldexplain the prevalence of flat stereotypical reproductions of the models givenby mass media and entertainment industry. This peculiar underdevelopment of the inner contradiction of play would also explain the relatively weakspontaneous aspiration for initial forms of learning activity found amongprimary-school children.

Jerome Bruner suggests that the mechanism behindthis impoverishment of the objective-instrumental aspect of play is the generalestrangement of industrialized man from the contents of work. According to him,"the young become more and more remote from the nature of the effortinvolved in running a society" because "vocation, competence, skill,sense of place in the system (...) become more and more difficult for the youngto fathom" (Bruner 1976, 55.) As a consequence, the fulfillment of play ispostponed to youth.

"Now 'the play of the babes'has become separate from, dissociated from, the adult community and notunderstood by that community any better than the young comprehend or accept theideals of the adult community.

A place is made automatically, perhapsfor the first time in our cultural tradition, for an intermediate generation,with power to model new forms of behaviour. Their power comes precisely, Ithink, from the fact that they offer deep play (...)." (Bruner 1976, 59.)

The developers of the theory of learning activity inthe Soviet cultural-historical school, especially El'konin and Davydov, haveconcentrated their theoretical and experimental efforts on primary schoolchildren. Learning activity is supposed to emerge directly after the dominanceof role play, within the administrative and physical framework of school-going(Davydov 1982, 37). Against the background of my conceptualization of learningactivity, this means that the primary object of learning activity in that ageis the development of learning activity itself. In other words, the primary schoolpupils' task is to expand the discrete, internally contradictory learningactions occurring within the activity of school-going into the objectively newsystem of learning activity. The motive of this activity is to learn how toacquire skills and knowledge and solve problems by expanding the tasks into objectively novel activity systems, resulting eventually not just inacquiring and solving the given, but in creating tasks and problems out of thelarger activity context.

But learning activity cannot be acquired anddeveloped 'in general'. Even if it is its own primary object, it simultaneouslyrequires an object activity (or several) outside of itself. In primary school,such object activities are reading, writing and communicating with language,mathematics, rudiments of natural and social sciences, music, etc. Can pupilsof that age really enter these varied and complex societal activity systems andbring them to a historically new developmental stage? Hardly. What they perhaps can do is develop humanlearning into an objectively new qualitative stage - the stage of learningactivity.

Thus, the object systems of language, mathematics,etc. function here as secondary, derived objects, as 'demonstration samples'for the methodology of learning activity. To take them as such requires a welldeveloped instrumentarium of play, enabling the pupils to see through this'demonstration sample' character of the school subjects and yet tackle themwith full vigour. Using Bateson's (1972, 185) cryptic terminology: "inprimary processes, map and territory are equated; in secondary processes, theycan be discriminated", but "in play, they are both equated anddiscriminated".

Provided that the inner contradiction of playactivity is more developed than it presently is in capitalist societies, thisis a reasonable task. Indeed, there is some evidence of substantial differencesbetween play activities in socialism and capitalism (Helenius 1982). However,it would be unfounded to delimit the possibility of the ontogenetic emergenceof learning activity to the confines of primary school years. At least incapitalism, the inner contradictions ofschool-going, work, and science/art seem to be more developed and mature thanthe inner contradiction of play.This is not surprising, for the intensive commodification of play is ofrelatively recent origin. As play is commodified, it is, paradoxically, rearmedwith instruments with which one may be able to penetrate the abstract societalpractices and create imaginary ones. I refer to the emerging sophisticatedgeneral-purpose toys, ranging from Lego blocks to micro-computers. But thisdevelopment has barely begun.

In conclusion, I suggest that the ontogenetic emergenceof learning activity, at least in present-day capitalist societies, may withthe highest probability take place in adulthood or adolescence, when thesubject faces historically and individually pressing inner contradictionswithin his or her leading activity - be it work, school-going, science or art.

THE FIRST INTERMEDIATE BALANCE

In this chapter, the concept of learning activityhas been derived from the evolution of the general concept of activity on theone hand, and from the cultural evolution of learning within other,historically earlier activities on the other hand.

The concept of learning activity proposed here maybe crystallized as learning byexpanding. This formulationevokes several questions. What exactly is the relation of learning activity toother, supposedly 'lower' forms of human learning? What is the relation oflearning activity to development? And above all, how and through what stepsdoes the proposed learning activity proceed in practice? I'll turn to thesequestions in Chapter 3.

TWO CLASSIC DILEMMAS OF DEVELOPMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY

Within moderndevelopmental psychology, two classic dilemmas persist. The first is theproblematic relationship between learning and development. The second is theequally problematic relationship between individual and societal development.

The firstdilemma may be provisionally formulated as follows.

"Thecentral question for our purposes is whether learning is identical todevelopment or, at least, whether development can be conceptualized asconsisting of some kind of accumulation of units of learning." (Baltes,Reese & Nesselroade 1977, 208.)

Another way ofputting the problem is found in the work of Ann L. Brown. For her, developmentis essentially the process of going from the specific and context-boundto the general and context-free.

"Basically,the problem is how does the learner go from specific learned experiences to theformulation of a general rule that can be applied to multiple settings. (...)How does the learner come to use knowledge flexibly? How do isolated skillsbecome connected together, extended and generalized?" (Brown 1982, 107.)

The seconddilemma has been formulated by Riegel in a polemical manner.

"Althoughthey (developmental psychologists; Y.E.) study developmental differences (andsometimes changes), they eliminated, with few exceptions, any consideration ofhistory. For example, young and old persons tested at one particular historicaltime differ widely in regard to the social-historical conditions under whichthey grew up. Although the impact of historical changes during an extendedperiod, for example, in education, health care, nutrition, communication, etc.,is often much more dramatic than any differences in performance between youngand old persons, this factor is generally disregarded in developmentalstudies." (Riegel 1979, 21.)

Bronfenbrennerstates the same argument in poetic terms.

"It wouldappear that, over the decades, developmental researchers have been carrying ona clandestine affair with Clio - the muse of history. (...) I suggest that,after so many years, the developmental researcher's illicit liaison with Cliois no longer a tenable arrangement; it is time we embraced her as a legitimatepartner in our creative scientific efforts." (Bronfenbrenner 1983, 176.)

Bronfenbrennernotes that development takes place like in a moving train. One can walk forwardand backward through the cars, but what really matters is where the train isgoing (Bronfenbrenner 1983, 175). The train metaphor exemplifies the centralproblem embedded in most of the available societally and ecologically orientedanalysis of development, including that of his own (Bronfenbrenner 1979). The environmentsor societal contexts are seen as historically changing, but not as beingconstructed and reconstructed by the people living in these contexts. Contextsare imposed upon, not produced by humans. Nobody seems to be driving the train,not to mention building and repairing it. Within the Riegelian tradition, thereare attempts to turn this determination upside down and picture"individuals as producers of their own development" (Lerner &Busch-Rossnagel 1981). This time, individual life choices are interpreted asdecisive constituents of the historically changing societal context - anattempt not much more convincing than that of the ecologists. Buss (1979,330) correctly notes that there has been a lot of loose talk within thelife-span developmental literature about the individual-society dialectic asinvolving mutual or reciprocal determination - but little concrete analysis ofwhat this really means. Regrettably, Buss himself offers merely a continuationof the loose talk.

"Whatmakes the individual-society dialectic a dialectic is that a given level ofdevelopment on one side of the relationship is dependent upon, while at thesame time is a condition for, that same level of development on the other sideof the relationship." (Buss 1979, 331.)

A glance atrecent discussions concerning these two classical dilemmas reveals acharacteristic gap. Solutions to both dilemmas are sought either byreducing and subjugating one side of the dilemma to the other or bypostulating a formal 'reciprocal' relationship between the two sides of thedilemma. In both cases, no mediating 'third factor' is found with which theconnection of the two sides could be made concrete and alive.

In thefollowing sections, the concept of activity is employed and further developedas such a mediating factor. Based on this mediating tool, the analysis of thetwo dilemmas will produce a deeper and more concrete problem, namely how thenew is generated in human development.

LEVELS OF LEARNING

In 1942,Gregory Bateson introduced the concept of 'deutero-learning' to denote theprocesses of learning to learn. According to Bateson, learning to learnmeans the acquisition of certain abstract habits of thought like "'freewill', instrumental thinking, dominance, passivity, etc." (Bateson 1972,166). As Bateson further noted, "even within the duration of the singlelearning experiment we must suppose that some deutero-learning willoccur" (Bateson 1972, 169). Deutero-learning often takes place as tacitacquisition of non-conscious apperceptive habits.

In 1969,Bateson presented a more sophisticated version of his learning theory. Heworked out a complex hierarchy of the processes of learning, based upon"an hierarchic classification of the types of error which are to becorrected in the various learning processes" (Bateson 1972, 287). Hesummarized the hierarchy as follows.

"Zerolearning is characterized by specificity of response, which -right or wrong - is not subjected to correction.

LearningI is change in specificity of responseby correction of errors of choice within a set of alternatives.

LearningII is change in the process of Learning I, e.g., acorrective change in the set of alternatives from which choice is made, or itis a change in how the sequence of experience is punctuated.

Learning IIIis change in the process of Learning II, e.g., acorrective change in the system of sets of alternatives from whichchoice is made. (We shall see later that to demand this level of performance ofsome men and some mammals is sometimes pathogenic.)

LearningIV would be change in Learning III, but probably doesnot occur in any adult living organism on this earth. Evolutionary process has,however, created organisms whose ontogeny brings them to Level III. Thecombination of phylogenesis with ontogenesis, in fact, achieves LevelIV." (Bateson 1972, 293.)

According toBateson, Learning I comprises the forms of learning treated by various versionsof connectionism: habituation, Pavlovian conditioning, operantconditioning, rote learning, extinction. "In Learning I, every itemof perception or behavior may be stimulus or response or reinforcementaccording to how the total sequence of interaction is punctuated", Bateson(1972, 292) notes. On the other hand, Learning II or learning to learn(deutero-learning) means the acquisition of the context or structure of sometype of Learning I. Thus, common descriptions of a person's 'character' areactually characterizations of the results of Learning II. "It follows thatLearning II acquired in infancy is likely to persist through life."(Bateson 1972, 301.)

The outcomesof Learning II, the habits or the 'character', save the individual from"having to examine the abstract, philosophical, aesthetic, and ethicalaspects of many sequences of life" (Bateson 1972, 303). Learning III, onthe other hand, is essentially conscious self-alteration: it will "throwthese unexamined premises open to question and change" (Bateson 1972,303). Learning III is a rare event, produced by the contradictions of LearningII. On Level III, the individual learns to control, limit and direct hisLearning II. He becomes conscious of his habits and theirformation. "Certainly it must lead to a greater flexibility in thepremises acquired by the process of Learning II - a freedom from theirbondage." (Bateson 1972, 304.)

The power ofBateson's argument has been amply testified by a number of eloquentanalyses of the 'hidden curriculum' in school learning (see especially Levy1976) as well as by works like those of Argyris and Schšn (1974; 1978) on'single-loop learning' and 'double-loop learning' in organizations andprofessions. The unconscious learning to learn, acquiring the context of'how to make it' in school and work, is a fact readily observable every day.Learning III seems indeed a rare event.

Bateson'sconception cannot, however, be reduced to this. Otherwise he wouldn't really bea classic, richer than copies and followers. There are two major aspects whichmake his analysis distinctive. Firstly, his hierachy is not based onobservation and classification but on evolutionary and historical analysis.Secondly, Bateson is not satisfied with presenting the situation as astable picture. Instead of moral pleas for 'changing the situation', he probesinto the inner contradictions in Learning II that generate Learning III.

In 1956,Bateson and his colleagues worked out a general description of these innercontradictions and named it the double bind. In double bindsituations, the individual, involved in an intense relationship, receives twomessages or commands which deny each other - and the individual is unableto comment on the messages, i.e., he cannot make a metacommunicative statement.

"If yousay this stick is real, I will strike you with it. If you say this stickis not real, I will strike you with it. If you don't say anything,I will strike you with it." (Bateson 1972, 208.)

In athoughtful discussion of the interpretations of the double bind, Paul Dellclarifies the concept as follows.

"The doublebind is not done to someone, it resides in the 'interaction-over-time' by which'important basic relationships are chronically subjected to invalidationthrough paradoxical interaction'. " (Dell 1980, 325; see also Berger1978; Sluzki & Ransom 1976.)

The outcomesof Learning II, the unconscious habits, frequently and necessarily lead theindividual to double bind situations. The habit once learned becomesself-defeating in a superficially similar but structurally altered socialcontext; or two mutually exclusive habits seem to be required at the same time.Bateson reports an ingenious experiment with a porpoise. The animal was trainedto demonstrate 'operant conditioning' to the public. First, for a certainmovement she got reinforcement (food). The next time, the previous movementdid not bring reinforcement - but as the porpoise made anothermovement, she obtained the same reinforcement that was given the firsttime. This changing of contexts continued for fourteen sessions.

"Theexperience of being in the wrong was so disturbing to the porpoise that inorder to preserve the relationship between porpoise and trainer (...) it wasnecessary to give many reinforcements to which the porpoise was not entitled.(...) Each of the first fourteen sessions was characterized by manyfutile repetitions of whatever behavior had been reinforced in the immediatelyprevious session. Seemingly only by 'accident' did the animal provide a pieceof different behavior. In the time-out between the fourteenth and fifteenthsessions, the porpoise appeared to be much excited, and when she came on stagefor the fifteenth session she put on an elaborate performance including eightconspicuous pieces of behavior of which four were entirely new - never beforeobserved in this species of animal." (Bateson 1972, 277.)

The case ofthe porpoise neatly illustrates the productive - and pathogenic - potential ofthe inner contradictions imbedded in Learning II. However, it does notillustrate the breakthrough to Learning III. As Bateson states,"mammals other than man are probably capable of Learning II but incapableof Learning III" (Bateson 1972, 306). What, then, does the case of theporpoise illustrate in terms of the mechanisms of learning? Certainly not theunconscious molding of habits. Also certainly not the reorganization ofconsciousness characteristic of Learning III.

In order tocome to grips with this paradox, we must reinterpret Bateson's theory in termsof the concept of activity.

LEARNING AND DEVELOPMENT

Human activityis always a contradictory unity of production and reproduction, invention andconservation (see Moscovici 1984, 60-62). The distinctive feature of humanactivity is that it is continuous creation of new instruments which inturn complicate and change qualitatively the very structure of the activityitself. It is essential that human activity cannot be reduced to theupper sub-triangle of Figure 2.6 alone. Human activity is not only individualproduction. It is simultaneously and inseparably also social exchange andsocietal distribution. In other words, human activity always takes place withina community governed by a certain division of labor and by certain rules.

In Chapter 2,I discussed Leont'ev's (1978) hierarchy, consisting of three levels: the levelof overall activity, the level of constituent actions, and thelevel of operations by means of which the actions arecarried out. The corresponding regulative units are called motives,goals and conditions. These three levels are not stable and fixed.Rather, activity is to be conceived of as "continuously proceedingtransformations" between the levels (Leont'ev 1978, 67).

"Activitymay lose the motive that elicited it, whereupon it is converted into an actionrealizing perhaps an entirely different relation to the world, a differentactivity; conversely, an action may turn into an independent stimulating forceand may become a separate activity; finally, an action may be transformed intoa means of achieving a goal, into an operation capable of realizing variousactions." (Leont'ev 1978, 67.)

RecentlyHarrŽ, Clarke and DeCarlo (1985, 24-30) have proposed an analogous three-levelhierarchy of the control of human actions. Their Level 1 is called 'behaviouralroutines', Level 2 is 'conscious awareness', and Level 3 is a dual formation ofthe 'deep structure of mind' and 'social orders'. The otherwise convincinganalysis suffers, however, from the authors' restrictive emphasis on languageand 'moral orders' (the lower left-side sub-triangle of Figure 2.6) with thecorresponding neglect of the productive material aspects of activity.

In Bateson'sLearning I, both the object/outcome and the instrument are given. Learningmeans repetitive corrections in the way the subject uses the instrument uponthe object. There is a fixed correct way which is to be obtained. The movementis primarily one-way and non-conscious: from the object to the subject to theinstrument to the object. Instruments on this level may be called tools orprimary artifacts (Wartofsky 1979, 201-202; Bunn 1981, 23).

A tool is ageneralized embodiment of operations that have become standardized throughrepetition: "the labor operations that have been given material shape, arecrystallized, as it were, in it" (Leontyev 1981, 216). A tool alwaysimplies more possible uses than the original operations that have givenbirth to it: the tool is the first "rational generalization"(Leontyev 1981, 215). Phylogenetically, Learning I means extremely slow andgradual improvement of tools, due to the essentially non-reflective nature oftheir use: "for example, the 'natural retouching' of universal stoneimplements in the course of using them" (Leontyev 1981, 237).Learning I is equivalent to the formation of non-conscious operations "inthe course of simple adaptation to existing external conditions" (Leontyev1981, 237).

Learning II isactually an inseparable companion of Learning I. In its rudimentary orreproductive form, Learning II means that as the given tasks are repeatedlyaccomplished within Learning I, a tacit representation or image of the way ofaccomplishing the tasks is necessarily generated. It first takes the form of ahabit, essentially unconscious and implicit. However, even such a reproductivehabit or image is potentially a second-order instrument, a secondary artifact,"created for the purpose of preserving and transmitting skills, in theproduction and use of 'primary' artifacts" (Wartofsky 1979, 201).

"Suchrepresentations, then, are reflexive embodiments of forms of action or praxis,in the sense that they are symbolic externalizations or objectifications ofsuch modes of action - 'reflections' of them, according to some convention, andtherefore understood as images of such forms of action - or, if you like,pictures or models of them. (...) The modes of this representation may begestural, or oral (linguistic or musical) or visual, but obviously such thatthey may be communicated in one or more sense-modalities; such, in short, thatthey may be perceived." (Wartofsky 1979, 201.)

Wartofskyspeaks about 'reflexive embodiments'. Bunn, in making essentially the samedistinction between tools and models (corresponding to primary and secondaryartifacts, respectively), argues in a similar vein.

"(...)the wider application of an exosomatic instrument to the world implies that thelaws which had governed the working of a tool have become so useful at largethat, by synecdoche, they come to substitute for the world. When a tool is'turned' from its intended use and contemplated instead of applied, thearbitrary connection between a tool and its referred function is transformed sothat it is no longer a means to a different end. Seen as reflections of the enditself, the principles by which a tool is constructed may be construed as hieroglyphs,omens, signatures, symptoms, laws, or models of higher function." (Bunn1981, 24.)

At firstsight, these notions are incompatible with the unconscious nature of theacquisition of habits within Learning II. How can something be unconscious andreflexive at the same time? Yet, this is exactly what Learning II is. It isbest conceived of as oscillation between two ways of making models, two kindsof generalizations. These two ways were indentified by Selz (1924) as'instrument actualization' and 'instrument abstraction'. Another classic,Bartlett, coined these two ways 'closed system thinking' and 'adventurousthinking'.

"Thinking,as a mental process, likes, so to speak, to go on in closed systems. For thisgives it a wide apparent range, and especially rids it, as completely aspossible, of all ultimate uncertainty. (...) But the thinker is more than athinking machine. So there grows up a tremendous struggle between those forceswhich try to reduce all forms of human knowledge to the closed-system variety(...) and those forces which lie behind the human zest for adventure and arecontinually revolting against and breaking out of the closed system."(Bartlett 1958, 96.)

More recently,a very illustrative experimental description of these two ways in theiroscillatory interaction has been provided by Karmiloff-Smith and Inhelder(1975). The essential precondition of any Learning II is a problem situation.The training of the porpoise moved the animal into the realm of Learning IIbecause she was presented with a task where uncertainty concerning the correctprocedure prevailed. Similarly, Karmiloff-Smith and Inhelder presented youngchildren with a relatively difficult block balancing task. As in the case ofthe porpoise, the first approach taken by the subjects was that of seeking theimmediate solution and concentrating on the outcome of one's effort - the'action response,' as the authors named it. The children were happy when theygot the blocks balanced, unhappy when they failed. However, another approachemerged in the midst of the first one.

"Frequently,even when children were successful in balancing an item on one dimension (...),they went on exploring the other dimensions of each block. It was as if theirattention were momentarily diverted from their goal of balancing to what hadstarted as a subgoal, i.e., the search for means. One could see the childrenoscillating between seeking the goal and seeking to 'question' the block."(Karmiloff-Smith & Inhelder 1975, 201.)

This latterapproach was named 'theory-response'. Within that approach, the subject doesnot measure his success with the immediate outcome (balanced or not balanced),but rather with the verification or falsification of his hypothetical model. Ifthe subject has formulated the hypothesis that, put into a certain position,the block will not balance, he will rejoice when the block does not in factbalance. In Bruner's (1974, 218-238) words, the subject has entered 'genericlearning' or started 'inventing a coding system'.

"At thispoint we witness experimentation for the experimentation's sake; for attendingto the means implies seeking knowledge of the approximate range of possibleactions on an object." (Karmiloff-Smith & Inhelder 1975, 207-208.)

These twoaspects of Learning II may be named (a) reproductive and (b) productive, forthe sake of simplicity. In Learning IIa, the object/outcome is given andthe instrument is found through trial and error, that is, through 'blindsearch' among previously known means. In Learning IIb, the object/outcome isgiven and the instrument is found - or rather invented - throughexperimentation. The former leads to empirical generalizations, the latter isthe prerequisite of theoretical generalizations (Dawydow 1977). The latter,productive aspect cannot be totally eliminated from Learning II, even if it maywell be subordinated to the point of invisibility.

Interestinglyenough, the porpoise went through a learning process essentially similar tothat of the children in the experiment of Karmiloff-Smith and Inhelder. Asthese autohors point out, before a conscious theory construction can takeplace, the subject must gradually crystallize his previous mode of action intoa model against which negative examples may be recognized as counterexamples. Ina spontaneous process, this often takes a great number of attempts. Thisprocess of recognition is manifested in pauses.

"As longas the child is predominantly success-oriented, there are rarely any pauses inhis action sequences. As his attention shifts to means, however, pauses becomemore and more frequent in the course of the sequence. Only when goal and meansare considered simultaneously do pauses precede action." (Karmiloff-Smith& Inhelder 1975, 208.)

The classictreatment of the importance of pauses in problem solving is Kšhler's (1925)study of Sultan the ape. The pauses are obviously a close relative to theexcitation of the porpoise between the 14th and 15th session. The recent workof Schšn (1983) testifies nicely that moments of productive experimentation or'reflection-in-action' appear in the daily work practice of professionalsin various fields. Here again, pauses or momentary withdrawals from theinteraction play a crucial role as the professional enters into a 'framingexperiment', a reformulation of the problem with the help of analogy based on a'generative metaphor' from his earlier experience (Schšn 1983, 268-269).Lopes (1981) reports similar findings from his research on therapy sessions.

In Learning I,the object presents itself as mere immediate resistance, not consciouslyseparated from the subject and instrument by the learner. In Learning II, theobject is conceived of as problem, demanding specific efforts. The subject isno more a non-conscious agent but an individual under constant self-assessmentstemming from the success or failure of his attempts at the solution. In otherwords, the whole triangle depicted in Figure 2.6 acquires a hierarchicallyhigher second layer. This second layer corresponds to the formation and executionof goal-directed actions in Leont'ev's scheme. The operations formed on thisbasis, from the 'top down', become automatic but not the same way as inLearning I. These operations are in principle capable of becoming subjected toconscious elaboration when there is some departure from the normal conditionsof performance.

"Labouroperations (...) thus acquire another genesis in connection with theircomplication: when the goal of the action is part of another action as acondition of its performance, the first action is transformed into a mode ofrealising the second, into a conscious operation. (...) From the aspect of thestructure of man's consciousness the formation of conscious operations means anew step in its development, a step that consists in the rise of a 'consciouslycontrolled' content in addition to the content presented in consciousness, andthe transition of the one to the other." (Leontyev 1981, 237.)

At the firstglance, Learning IIb would seem to be true learning activity. However, LearningIIb is still typically restricted to the insightful, experimental solution of discrete,given problems. In this sense, Learning IIb is essentiallydiscontinuous, limited to the level of actions. The creation of new instrumentswithin Learning IIb is potentially expansive - but only potentially. LearningIIb does not in any automatic manner imply that the context of the givenproblem is broken and expanded.

Learning IIrepresents a fundamental generalization of the outcomes of learning. In thatsense, Learning II means development, going from the specific to the general(recall Brown's criterion). But the developmental step from Learning I toLearning II is not restricted to humans, and neither is it fundamental for thetypically human brand of development. Learning II is a level open in principleto other higher mammals as well. In terms of human phylogenesis, it is dejˆvu. "Put simply, a man may evolve, but how could he truly getbeyond himself?" (Dell 1982, 34.)

The typicallyhuman type of development, not found in any other species, is transition toLearning III. This we know from Bateson. But what is the specific mechanism ofLearning III?

Bateson offerssome key hints. As we remember, Learning III is a product of double bindsituations. The most well-known product of continuous double binds isschizophrenia. It is a deep restructuring of the subject's consciousness,caused by contexts where the subject is unable to comment in ametacommunicative way upon the contradictory messages or commands he receives.But what if the subject is able to comment upon the messages? "If you saythe stick is real, I will strike you with it. If you say the stick is notreal...." According to Bateson, the subject "might reach up and takethe stick away from the master" (Bateson 1972, 208). In other words, hemay rise above the constraints of the context and break it, or put it into awider context where it becomes relative and changeable.

"Thequestion is explosive. The simple stylized experimental sequence of interactionin the laboratory is generated by and partly determines a network ofcontingencies which goes out in a hundred directions leading out of thelaboratory into the processes by which psychological research is designed, theinteractions between psychologists, the economics of research money, etc.,etc." (Bateson 1972, 305.)

In LearningII, the subject is presented with a problem and he tries to solve the problem.In Learning III, the problem or the task itself must be created.

"(...)problems do not present themselves to the practitioner as givens. They must beconstructed from the materials of problematic situations which are puzzling,troubling, and uncertain." (Schšn 1983, 40; see also Seidel 1976.)

If the problemis given, the subject asks: 'What is the meaning and sense of this problem inthe first place? Why should I try to solve it? How did it emerge?Who designed it, for what purpose and for whose benefit?' As Batesonnotes, this kind of behavior is easily coined as disruptive.

"Even theattempt at Level III can be dangerous, and some fall by the wayside. These areoften labeled by psychiatry as psychotic, and many of them find themselvesinhibited from using the first person pronoun." (Bateson 1972, 305-306.)

Learning IIIis motivated by the resolution of the contradictions of Level II.

"(...)the resolution of contraries reveals a world in which a personal identitymerges into all the processes of relationship in some vast ecology oraesthetics of cosmic interaction. (...) Every detail of the universe is seen asproposing a view of the whole." (Bateson 1972, 306.)

Whereas inLearning II the object is seen as a problem possessing its own objectivedynamics outside the subject, in Learning III the object system is seen ascontaining the subject within it. Furthermore, the quality of the subjectit*elf changes radically. As Dell (1982, 34) notes, "all multi-individualinteractional systems are capable of true discontinuous change (...) because coherenceas an interactional system is fundamentally different from the coherence thatconstitutes the individual living members who constitute that system" .

"Selfhoodis a product or aggregate of Learning II. To the degree that a man achievesLearning III, and learns to perceive and act in terms of the contexts ofcontexts, his 'self' will take on a sort of irrelevance. The concept of 'self'will no longer function as a nodal argument in the punctuation ofexperience." (Bateson 1972, 304.)

Thisfundamental change in the character of the subject has been described byRaiethel (1983), following Hegel, as the progression from the initial'Urzentrierung' (Learning I) to 'Dezentrierung' (Learning II) and finallyto 'Rezentrierung' (Learning III). The individual self is replaced - orrather qualitatively altered - by a search for a collective subject,capable of mastering the complexity of 'contexts of contexts', i.e., ofsocietal practices with highly developed division of labor as well asmulti-level technological and symbolic mediations.

What are theappropriate instruments of Learning III? Wartofsky suggests a concept oftertiary artifacts.

"(...) wemay speak of a class of artifacts which can come to constitute a relativelyautonomous 'world', in which the rules, conventions and outcomes no longerappear directly practical, or which, indeed, seem to constitute an arena ofnon-practical, or 'free' play or game activity. (...) So called 'disinterested'perception, or aesthetic perception, or sheer contemplation, then becomes apossibility; but not in the sense that it has no use. Rather, in the sense thatthe original role of the representation has been, so to speak, suspended orbracketed.

(...) I wouldcharacterize such artifacts, abstracted from their direct representationalfunction, as 'tertiary' artifacts, and suggest that they constitute a domain inwhich there is a free construction in the imagination of rules and operationsdifferent from those adopted for ordinary 'this-worldly' praxis. (...) That isto say, just as in dreams our imagery is derived from our ordinary perception,but transcends or violates the usual constraints, so too in imaginative praxis,the perceptual modes are derived from and related to a given historical mode ofperception, but are no longer bound to it." (Wartofsky 1979, 208-209.)

In discussingthe means of scientific activity, Judin (1978, 323; see also Otte 1984)proposes 'theoretical substantiations' as the instruments of the tertiarylevel. They serve as the means of constructing and using 'modeling conceptions'as second level instruments. In a similar vein, we may argue that Wartofsky'stertiary artifacts are actually methodologies or visions or world outlookswhich serve as guidelines in the production and application of secondaryartifacts, i.e., models.

Learning IIImay now be characterized as the construction and application of world outlooksor methodologies - or ideologies, if you will. But it is not only amatter of imaginary production.

"Theactivity of the imagination is therefore a mode of alternative perceptual praxis,and is 'off-line' only relative to a historically actual ordominant present mode of perceptual praxis. What the imagination is, as'internal representation', i.e., as a picturing 'in the mind' of suchalternatives, I take to be derivative from the actual making ofimaginative artifacts. That is to say, in its genesis I take imaginative praxisto be praxis in the actual world, or the actual production of representations;the interiorization of these representations, as 'mental' artifacts, I take to bea derivative process." (Wartofsky 1979, 209.)

In LearningIII, the subject becomes conscious and gains an imaginative and thuspotentially also a practical mastery of whole systems of activity interms of the past, the present and the future. Individual manifestations ofLearning III are commonly called 'personal crises', 'breaking away', 'turningpoints' or 'moments of revelation'.

The triangleof learning activity (Figure2.12) should now be depicted as a three-level hierarchy. Each cornerof the triangle would thus have three qualitatively different levels: that ofthe overall activity, that of actions, and that of operations. Instead ofattempting at such a complex graphic presentation, I summarize the variouscharacterizations of those three levels in Table 3.1.

Table 3.1

Characterizationsof the hierarchical structure of activity

Next, I'llsummarize my own characterization of the corners of the three-level triangularmodel of learning activity as follows (Table 3.2).

Table 3.2

The proposedhierarchical structure of activity

Learning I andLearning II, in their interaction and contradictions, represent what iscommonly understood as learning. Learning III represents what is oftenreferred to as development. However, this kind of categorization is misleading.Learning I and Learning II are always embedded, in an altered form, in LearningIII. Development can only take place as a 'result' of learning. This wasclearly realized by Vygotsky. He made a distinction between two kinds of(school) learning - bad and good. According to him,"the only 'good learning' is that which is in advance ofdevelopment" (Vygotsky 1978, 89). This distinction corresponds to ourdistinction between Learning IIa and Learning IIb.

"Fromthis point of view, learning is not development; however, properly organizedlearning results in mental development and sets in motion a variety of ofdevelopmental processes that would be impossible apart from learning. Thus,learning is a necessary and universal aspect of the process of developingculturally organized, specifically human, psychological functions.

To summarize,the most essential feature of our hypothesis is the notion that developmentalprocesses do not coincide with learning processes. Rather, the developmentalprocess lags behind the learning process (...).

Our hypothesisestablishes the unity but not the identity of learning processes and internaldevelopmental processes. It presupposes that the one is converted into theother." (Vygotsky 1978, 90-91.)

In otherwords, productive experimentation of type IIb is a necessary precondition forthe fruitful resolution of double binds. Expansive, non-pathological breakingout of the context of the double bind requires certain sophisticated learningactions, typical to the research-like reflective model building and testing ofLearning IIb. In the school context, this implies that pupils questioning therelevance of their school learning and seeking wider contexts of lifeactivities will benefit from acquiring and applying actions of Learning IIb.However, this is only a stepping stone toward learning activity, or LearningIII. In learning activity, development itself becomes the object of learning.

But what aboutthe criterion and direction of development? Brown's suggestion was thatdevelopment is formation of general, context-free structures and skills. Nearlythe same is said about Vygotsky's conception. According to Wertsch, Vygotsky'sprinciple of development was the 'decontextualization of mediational means'.

"Thedecontextualization of mediational means is the process whereby the meanings ofsigns become less and less dependent of the unique spatiotemporal context inwhich they are used." (Wertsch 1985c, 33.)

The problemwith this kind of criterion of development is its inherently ahistoricalnature. Rather than being non-specific or context-free, the cognitivestructures and skills of competent modern western adults are specific to asocietal context saturated and dominated by the abstract bond of exchange value(see Chapter 2). The structures and skills of competent adults of anindustrialized socialist society are likewise not decontextualized in anygeneral, ahistorical manner. Beneath their seemingly universal surface, thesestructures and skills stem from a certain peculiar socio-economic bond betweenpeople.

So thecriterion of human psychological development is to be found in the historicaldevelopment of the human society. But is there a direction to that development?

In theirrecent work on the historical development of human activity, Kuchermann andWigger-Kšsters (1985) argue that there is a direction: toward increasedsubjectivity or subject'ness ('zunehmende Subjektwerdung').This is manifested in the historical increase in the numbers and interconnectionsof human activities, and in the tremendous widening of the object-field ofthose activities.

I prefer tosay that activities are becoming increasingly societal. The Germanword for this is 'Vergesellschaftung' - a corresponding convenientEnglish phrase is lacking. To become increasingly societal means, first of all,that activity systems become gradually larger, more voluminous, and denser intheir internal communication. Consequently, activity systems have impact ongrowing numbers of people. Secondly, it means that different activity systems,and people within them, become increasingly interdependent, forming ever morecomplex networks and hierarchies of interaction. Thirdly, this interdependencyis not just a formal affiliation. Activity systems are increasinglypenetrated and saturated by the basic socio-economic laws and by thecorresponding contradictions of the given society. In other words,activities are less and less left in relative isolation from societalturbulences, as remnants from earlier socio-economic formations.

Theseformulations do not coincide with a linear, mechanically deterministicconception of history. When I talk about contradictions, I mean that eachsocio-economic formation has its own, qualitatively specific contradictions,which makes simple quantitative comparisons and finalistic images of an idealsociety senseless. Contradictions also imply zones of relative indeterminationin the course of development.

Yet, theformulations provide a basis for talking sensibly about more or less advancedforms, even about 'higher' and 'lower' levels of development. Such words arenot taken here as synonyms for 'better' and 'worse', or for 'desirable' and'objectionable'.

INDIVIDUAL AND SOCIETAL DEVELOPMENT

I have coveredone side of the contradictory unity of learning and development. The other sidemay be more unexpected. Learning is not only a necessary precondition ofdevelopment - development is also a necessary and always presentingredient of learning. This contention resembles the traditional idea ofdefining development as a sum of learning experiences. But the resemblance isonly external.

Learning IIIas the outcome and form of typically human development is basically collectivein nature. The collective Learning III is perhaps not so dramatic as itsindividual manifestations. But the real production and application of worldoutlooks, restructuring of complex activity systems, is not conceivable inindividual and drastically sudden terms alone. In periods of exceptionalupheavals, such as revolutions, the collective and the individual, the profoundand the sudden, the action and the activity, seem to merge, even to the pointwhere the individual seems to take the leading role. But these are temporaryphenomena. The bread and butter of human development is collective LearningIII, gradual in form but profound in substantial effects.

In LearningII, in problem solving, there is always - whether conscious or not, planned orunplanned - the phase of the application and realization of the acquiredinstrument (be it a habit or a model) in real-life conditions, in societalpractice. This phase, however, is rarely included in the object field oflearning research.

"If weare to study the conditions under which generic learning occurs, the pattern ofmuch of present learning research needs drastic change. The present approach isto study the speed of acquisition of new learning and, possibly, to study theconditions that produce extinction. When we have carried our experimentalsubjects through these steps, we either dismiss them or, if they are animalsubjects, dispose of them. The exception, of course, is the clinician; but evenhis research on learning and cognition is of the cross-sectional type. We havebeen accustomed to speaking of maze wise rats and test wise human beings, butin the spirit of being annoyed by an inconvenience. (...) If we really intendto study the conditions of generic learning (...), then we shall have to keepour organisms far longer and teach them original tasks of greater diversitythan we do now." (Bruner 1974, 233.)

If we followLearning II after the laboratory phases described by Bruner, into the subject'sactivity outside laboratory, we shall find out that the newly acquiredinstrument never stays exactly the same as it was in the phases of its originalindividual acquisition and internalization. It will change and producesurprises, new qualities, in its very integration into the wider context of thesocial life activity of the subject. It will be concretized and generalized inpractice which is necessarily richer than the abstraction originally acquired.

"Appearingin direct contiguity with objective reality and subordinate to it, activity ismodified and enriched, and in that enrichment it is crystallized in a product.The realized activity is richer and truer than the consciousness that precedesit. Thus, for the consciousness of the subject, contributions that areintroduced by his activity remain cryptic; from this it follows that consciousnessmay seem a basis of activity." (Leont'ev 1978, 78.)

This tacittransition from the sphere of initial internalization to the sphere of theoften delayed externalization and objectification is actually atransition from Learning II to Learning III - from individual actions to thepublic or collective mode of activity.

"The endsof the actions are intended, but the results which actually follow from theseactions are not intended; or when they do seem to correspond to end intended,they ultimately have consequences quite other than those intended. Historicalevents thus appear on the whole to be (...) governed by chance. But where onthe surface accident holds sway, there actually it is always governed by inner,hidden laws and it is only a matter of discovering these laws." (Engels1976, 366.)

The individualmakes a contribution to the societal development and thus indirectly to his ownindividual development. This differs from the explosive mode of Learning IIIdescribed by Bateson. Obviously both modes exist - the explosive and the tacitor gradual. The problem with the latter is that it takes place in the form ofunrecognized innovations, 'behind the back' of the subject, as it were. Thesubject remains merely a potential subject of the activity and development,effectively cut off from their collective mastery by the fragmented division oflabor.

A properexample of this latter, gradual and tacit aspect of Learning III is thedevelopment of language. As the individual learns new models of using language,he and his teachers know that these models are not societally new, they areonly new to this specific individual. But as the individual uses those modelsin his life activities, he actually produces societally new variationsof the models, though mostly nonconsciously. As Ushakova (1977, 533) notes,"word invention, having the characteristics of an analogical process,takes place as a result of 'collision' of two generalized lexicalstructures". The individual's contribution quickly loses its individualidentity and merges into a vast pool of similar contributions in the socialexchange within communities. In the long run, it will participate in theformation of new compelling models of language use, models into which theindividual may or may not 'grow from below', without explosions. Thesemodels eventually mold his whole world outlook and methodology of dealing withthe world, though often very slowly and marginally.

In this,admittedly indirect and even somewhat drab sense Learning II always entailsLearning III. What is not so drab is that this view suggests a new approach fordevelopmental and learning research. Instead of asking how the individualsubject developed into what he is, the developmentalist might start by asking,how the objects and structures of the life-world (themselves understood asactivity systems) have been and are created by human beings, how somethingobjectively new is developed all the time. The researcher would thus start withBronfenbrenner's 'train', but as a train which is continuously constructed andreconstructed by its passengers. On the other hand, this kind of constructivismdoes not mean seeing 'individuals as producers of their own development'.Rather, individuals are seen as co-producers of societal and culturaldevelopment and only indirectly as producers of their own development.Consequently, a learning researcher might not be satisfied with recording whatis learned within the period of the initial acquisition of new knowledge orskills. Rather, he would concentrate on the practical application as anintegral part of the process of learning and trace the mutations of theacquired contents as they become integrated into the life activities of thelearner, i.e., truly socialized and generalized.

Above I have presentedtwo alternative forms of Learning III from the point of view of the individual:development as personal crises and explosions, and development as tacit,invisible contributions. Both these are very old forms of learning, perhaps asold as the human race. How does this fit with the conclusion of Chapter 2,namely that learning activity or learning by expanding is an emerging,historically new and higher form of human learning?

The solutionis that Learning III, or learning activity, or learning by expanding, is bothold and new. The two old forms considered above (personal crises and invisiblecontributions) are preliminary and premature forms. In them, the Batesonianconcept of Learning III does not yet reveal its full potential. They both fail toaccount for the most interesting phenomena of Learning III - for its new,emerging form.

Consider forexample the Children's Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, initiated by MariaSchumann (15 years), Becky Dennison (12 years), Nessa Rabin (13 years), HannahRabin (16 years), Susie Dennison (16 years), Solveig Schumann (17 years) andMax Schumann (17 years), in the United States in June 1981. The movementstarted from the idea of writing personal letters to President Reagan,demanding nuclear disarmament.

"By wordof mouth, sending information - describing the idea of the letter writingcampaign - to schools and kids they had the addresses of, the seven friendsreceived 2 832 letters written to President Reagan from children all over thecountry till October 1981. Until June of 1982 further 5 404 letters werereceived. On October 17th, 1981, and on June 19th, 1982, the letters were readaloud by a delegation of children standing in front of the White House, after ameeting with President Reagan could not be realized on both days."(GrŸnewald 1985, 14.)

In aninterview, Hannah Rabin stressed the importance of kid-groups workingindependently of adults.

"We doneed adults' support in some way. We need adults to give us money, because wekids have no money, we need adults to drive us around and feed us when we havemeetings and things like that, but it's very important that kids have their owngroups, that kids are speaking directly to kids. If adults are involved thereare too many just adult-kid-conflicts that come into play. And adults havetheir own movement, too." (GrŸnewald 1985, 15.)

The work ofthe planning committee and the centralized letter campaign stopped in1982. Today the work is carried on by a number of local groups which developvarious activity forms. The campaign has spread to West Germany and some otherEuropean countries. Susie Denison writes:

"Inworking for the letter writing campaign we have gotten in touch with many kidsand there are about 30 CCND chapters all over the country. We have also gone tolots of schools and had workshops with kids where we talk with them about thearms race, the threat of nuclear war, our fears that we may all be destroyedand what we can do to bring about nuclear disarmament." (GrŸnewald 1985,16.)

The childrenwho started the campaign did not experience explosive personal crises, nor weretheir contributions invisible, tacit and nonconscious. Their small actions grewinto a an objectively new form of societal activity. The societal developmentto which the circle of seven children had given the impulse has undoubtedly hadimportant effects on the individual development of those children. According toLeont'ev (1978, 133), the first basic parameter of personality development is"the riches of the connections of the individual with the world" -something that was multiplied for the initiators of the campaign. Thesecond parameter is the degree to which activities and their motives arearranged hierarchically. In this respect, a highly developed personality is characterizedby central, dominant motives which have become conscious 'life goals'. Such a'motive-goal' "merges his (man's) life with the life of people, with theirgood" (Leont'ev 1978, 134). Something like this may be discerned in theinterview of Hannah Rabin.

"Thereare adults who say we shouldn't do what we are doing because it's a grown-upissue. We really disagree with that. We think it's our future that is going tobe destroyed and we have to take responsibility for it because the adults aloneare not strong enough to get rid of the arms race. It's going to take everysingle person in the world I think to finally end this threat." (GrŸnewald1985, 18.)

Compare thisexample with the effects of school learning, or with the effects of the regularcampaigns against smoking, against traffic accidents, etc. In these cases, theinitial impulses are massive, as measured with hours, manpower, or money. Yetthe developmental effects in societal practice are meager, sometimesnegligible.

This suggeststhat there are two basic types of development - development being nowunderstood as the transitions between the levels of learning,as movement from operations to actions to activity. These two types may becompared with the consequences of throwing a stone into the water. Normally,the stone produces a series of circles of waves, where the innermost waves arehighest and then get smaller while moving outward, until they die outcompletely. In human development, there appears not only this type of movement,but also another, opposite type, where the waves grow while they move outwardfrom the impulse, then turn back to mold the initial source of impulse, andfinally create a new, higher-level structure or stability than the original.

This metaphor,used also by Ilya Prigogine (1985, 7) in a more general context, forces us toconsider the crux of the problem. How is the objectively, societally newgenerated in human development?

HOW THE NEW IS GENERATED

Prigoginedefines the essence of the emerging new scientific rationality as follows.

"Classicalscience is associated with the negation of time in the name of eternity.Nineteenth-century science is associated with a concept of time as decay. Butthe history of our world cannot be a succession of historical catastrophes only(...). After all, if there was decay, there must also have been some moments ofcreation. Curiously enough, this simple truth seems to have been firstperceived by artists (...). At present, physics is in search of a thirdconception of time as reducible neither to repetition nor to decay."(Prigogine 1985, 3.)

In animpressive essay on the relations between the organism and the environment, thebiologist Lewontin specifies this approach further.

"(...) wecannot regard evolution as the 'solution' by species of some predeterminedenvironmental 'problems' because it is the life activities of the speciesthemselves that determine both the problems and solutions simultaneously. (...)So, too, our central nervous systems are not fitted to some absolute laws ofnature but to laws of nature operating within a framwork created by our ownsensuous activity. (...) Organisms within their individual lifetimes and in thecourse of their evolution as a species do not adapt toenvironments; they construct them. They are not simply objectsof the laws of nature, altering themselves to bend to the inevitable, butactive subjects transforming nature according to its laws."(Lewontin 1982, 162-163.)

Indevelopmental psychology, we find occasional discussions and puzzlements aroundthe question: How is the new generated from the old? The analysis presented sofar suggests that this is an erroneous way of putting the question. The new isnot generated from the old but from the living movement leadingaway from the old.

"'If youdo not know what you are looking for, then why are you looking; if you knowwhat you are looking for, then why are you looking for it?' For a creature witha mind, search and investigation, which involve this internalcontradiction, are characteristic.

Thisfundamental contradiction is the true source of the development of the mind ofanimals and man. (...) To look for something that does not yet exist but thatis possible (...) this is the fundamental, cardinal aspect of the vitalactivity of every sentient and thinking being - a subject. (...) In light ofthis activity the paradox of search consists in the fact that it combineswithin itself the possible and the actual." (Davydov & Zinchenko 1982,24.)

Davydov andZinchenko, in line with Bernshtein, define the living movement as thegenetically primary unit of analysis of mental reality. The cultural prototypeof living movement is work. The paradox of search is embedded in the very firstforms of human labor activity.

"Movementtakes place as a necessary connective link between foreseeing and remembering.The disjunction between these two elements is overcome by the present, that is,intensive action in the present." (Davydov & Zinchenko 1982, 31.)

We may nowreturn to the example of Children's Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament and to thepostulated two types of development. It seems that the living movementdemonstrated by the Campaign contains one distinctive feature. The paradox ofthe search has in this case become conscious to the searchers themselves, ithas reached the quality of a genuine double bind, and its has been resolvedthrough collective, conscious action in the present. In other words, the typeof development we are concerned with here - expansive generation of newactivity structures - requires above all an instinctive or consciousmastery of double binds. Double bind may now be reformulated as a social,societally essential dilemma which cannot be resolved through separateindividual actions alone - but in which joint co-operative actions canpush a historically new form of activity into emergence .

The mastery ofdouble binds is first of all historical analysis or historical intuitionof the inner contradictions of the activity system the subject is a partof. Here we come back to the instruments. To be inventive in a dilemmasituation is to invent a new instrument for the resolution of thedilemma. This demands experimentation, borrowing or 'conquering' alreadyexisting artifacts (such as letters in the case of the Children's Campaign) fornew uses.

"(...)the experimenter cannot move beyond the point for which methods andinstrumentation are available. He may sometimes invent them; more often headopts them from some source that may be well outside of his own immediate interest.(...)

"One ofthe most important features of these turning-points in experimental developmentis that they very often introduce methods and instrumentation new to the fieldof research involved, but already developed in some other region of investigation.But if the experimenter who does this has any original impact upon his sciencehe always does more than this. He must adapt the new methods and instrumentsfor use in his own field, and he must show that they can be used to reach acompelling answer to some current problems, and at the same time to lead on toa number of further problems." (Bartlett 1958, 133-135.)

Bartlett'sanalysis of scientific experimentation is well transferable to other societalactivities. The problem in Kohlbergian dilemmas is that there is no field ofactivities and artifacts in which the dilemma would be embedded. Thus, there isnothing to experiment with in the first place.

Theinstruments are also what distinguishes the case of the porpoise from the caseof the Children's Campaign. Though the porpoise went through an intensivedilemma and resolved it by producing genuinely new behavior, she never producednew instruments in the proper sense of the word. She did not produce implementsor models that could be communicated about, preserved and transmitted among herown species. These processes could possibly take place only through a kind ofsymbiosis with man. The actions of the porpoise could not by themselves pushinto emergence a new co-operative activity system in the 'societies' of theporpoise species. They would remain individual achievements unless man chosetry to transfer them to other individuals of that species.

RecentlyBratus and Lishin (1983) have presented an instructive discussion which hasdirect relevance to the problem of the double binds. On the basis of Leont'ev's(1978) theoretical work and their own clinical experiments, they describe thepsychological phases of the emergence of a new activity with the followingdiagram (Figure 3.1).

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Figure 3.1: The emergence ofactivity according to Bratus & Lishin (1983, 44)

In thediagram, the symbol N refers to 'need', the symbol A refers to 'activity' , thesymbol O refers to 'object' and the symbol M refers to 'motive'. Each newexpanded need is produced in an activity which in turn is established on thebasis of a previous need that, having met its object, has been transformed intoa motive. But the exceptional point in these continuing cycles is somethingwhich is symbolized with S_n. This symbol refers to the concept of'need state'.

"(...) abreakdown in the sequence of activity is possible at two points: either at thepoint N-A, when a need cannot be satisfied by the previous set of means ofactivities; or at the point A-N, when, on the contrary, the existingoperational and technical means do not correspond to the previous needs. Ineither of these cases some special state of indeterminacy may arise in whichdesires, as it were, lose their object, and one may say that a person desires(sometimes very passionately) something he himself does not know and cannotclearly describe.

This peculiarstate of indeterminant, temporarily objectless desire may be called a needstate (...)." (Bratus & Lishin 1983, 43.)

Thischaracterization immediately reminds us of the notion of the paradox of thesearch as formulated above by Davydov and Zinchenko. Essential in the needstate is that the subject faces competing alternatives and is unable todetermine the direction of his efforts. The new activity emerges throughthree zones: (1) the zone of a need state, (2) the zone of motive-formation,and (3) the zone of transformation of needs and activity (Bratus & Lishin1983, 44).

"However,a need state cannot last long. Sooner or later an encounter with, discovery, oractive testing action of some object occurs; this object fits the particularneed state, which places it in a qualitatively different rank, the rank of anobjectified need, i.e., a need that has found its object or motive. Then,through the discovered motive, the need stimulates activity, during the courseof which the need is reproduced and (...) somewhat modified, impelling it on toa new cycle of activity that is different compared with the previous one, etc.,i.e., a sequence of transformations emerges." (Bratus & Lishin 1983,43-44.)

Two importantcritical comments are necessary here. First, it is never a question ofarbitrary or accidental competing objects in the need state. Beneath theseemingly accidental surface of disconnected 'alternatives' or 'options', therelie the historically determined inherent contradictions of any object of thegiven socio-economic formation. In capitalism, the inherent contradictionfunctioning in every single object is the double nature of commodities, beingsimultaneously abstract and concrete, exchange value and use value. Thus, theneed state is grounded in the subject's bewilderment at the face of these twomutually excluding and mutually dependent sides of the same object.

The othercritical comment concerns the 'automaticity' of the emergence of new activitiespostulated by Bratus and Lishin. The authors claim that a need state"cannot last long" and that it will eventually be replaced by a newcycle of transformations. Firstly, there are good grounds to argue that a needstate often does indeed last long and produce various forms of deprivation,passivity and withdrawal, not to talk about 'substitute activities' such asalcoholism studied in depth by the authors themselves. But more important isthe manner in which the need state is supposed to be resolved. Bratus andLishin make it sound like a very easy and effortless process:"sooner or later an encounter with, discovery, or active testing action ofsome object occurs". There is ample evidence that most of such 'sooner orlater' choices actually involve not generation of new activities but'rediscovery' of old, regressive activity forms. Life then moves in circles,not in an ascending spiral. Obviously invisible contributions to developmentare made in this form, too. But this is not really what we are looking for.

A need statecontains no automatism. It may be 'resolved' through regression or it may beresolved through expansion. To clarify the structure of the latter process, wenow turn to the elaboration of the category of the zone of proximaldevelopment.

THE ZONE OF PROXIMAL DEVELOPMENT

Vygotsky'sfamous definition of the zone of proximal development reads as follows.

"It isthe distance between the actual developmental level as determined byindependent problem solving and the level of potential development asdetermined through problem solving under adult guidance or in collaborationwith more capable peers." (Vygotsky 1978, 86.)

According toVygotsky, the zone of proximal development defines those functions that will"mature tomorrow but are currently in an embryonic state", i.e., the'buds' of development (Vygotsky 1978, 86). Vygotsky claimed that primates andother animals cannot have a zone of proximal development. Human children, onthe other hand, can "go well beyond the limits of their owncapabilities", they "are capable of doing much more in collectiveactivity" (Vygotsky 1978, 88).

Vygotsky sawinstruction as a chief means to exploit the zones of proximal development.

"Thereforethe only good kind of instruction is that which marches ahead of developmentand leads it; it must be aimed not so much at the ripe as the ripeningfunctions. (...) instruction must be oriented toward the future, not thepast." (Vygotsky 1962, 104.)

Vygotskyrefers to Montessori's idea of 'sensitive periods' as optimal points ofdeparture for instruction.

"Shefound, for instance, that if a child is taught to write early, at four and halfor five years of age, he responds by 'explosive writing', an abundant andimaginative use of written speech that is never duplicated by children a fewyears older. This is a striking example of the strong influence thatinstruction can have when the corresponding functions have not yet fullymatured." (Vygotsky 1962, 105.)

The concept ofthe zone of proximal development has had quite a renaissance during the lastfew years, especially in the United States. A common interpretation andapplication of this concept is to use it as a rationale for different versionsof 'dynamic assessment of intelligence' (see Brown & French 1979; Day1983).

Another commoninterpretation takes the zone of proximal development as a rationale forcreating social situations or environments where instructional support is givento children, thus enabling children to acquire new skills in a new way,through joint problem solving and interaction. The notion of 'scaffolding' (seeWood, Bruner & Ross 1976; Wood 1980) is a product of this line ofinterpretation, so is Cazden's (1981) work on children's speech acquisition,and so are several contributions to the important volume edited by Rogoff andWertsch (1984).

Neither one ofthese common interpretations does full justice to Vygotsky's conception. In thecase of the dynamic assessment interpretation, it is easy to notice that Vygotsky"does speak to broader issues" (Day 1983, 164). But even the notionof 'scaffolding' is unduly narrow. Peg Griffin and Michael Cole point out twoserious weaknesses in this interpretation. Firstly, scaffolding (or creating'formats', see Bruner 1985) refers to acquiring discrete skills and actions,not to the emergence of long-lasting molar activities. It is a "largelyspatial metaphor, in which the temporal aspect of the construction of the wholeremains as a residual, unanalyzed aspect of the living process" (Griffin& Cole 1984, 48). Secondly, the idea of scaffolding is restricted to theacquisition of the qiven.

"Thescaffold metaphor leaves open questions of the child's creativity. If the adultsupport bears an inverse relation to the child's competence, then there is astrong sense of teleology - children's development is circ*mscribed by theadults' achieved wisdom. Any next-step version of the Zo-ped (zone ofproximal development; Y.E.) can be of similar concern, including work that wehave done." (Griffin & Cole 1984, 47.)

Thisself-critical formulation is exceptionally important. Griffin and Coletry to sketch an expanded conception of the zone of proximal development.In line with the analyses of Leont'ev (1981) and El'konin (1977), theysee the child's development as a series of transitions from one ontogeneticallyleading or dominant activity to another: from play to formal learning, fromformal learning to peer activity, form peer activity to work. Furthermore, theydo not subscribe to a fixed universal order of automatically occuringtransitions. To the contrary, "it is possible to show changes in leadingactivities that follow development sequences within a single setting"(Griffin & Cole 1984, 60). Play activity, for example, is often a mediatingdevice which helps youngsters enter new activities (Griffin & Cole 1984,62).

"Adultwisdom does not provide a teleology for child development. Social organizationand leading activities provide a gap within which the child can develop novelcreative analysis. (...) a Zo-ped is a dialogue between the child and hisfuture; it is not a dialogue between the child and an adult's past."(Griffin & Cole 1984, 62.)

Inspiring asthis conclusion is, it is difficult to avoid the impression that the authors themselves,not to mention other researchers, have only started to consider itsimplications. This is evident in the inconsistency between the conclusioncited above and Cole's formulations in other publications. An article in therecent fine volume edited by Wertsch (1985a) is a case in point. Here, Colespeaks of the zone of proximal development exclusively in terms of 'acquiringculture,' never in terms of creating it. He summarizes the article with thefollowing statement.

"Theacquisition of culturally appropriate behavior is a process of interactionbetween children and adults, in which adults guide children's behavior asan essential element in concept acquisition/acculturation/education."(Cole 1985, 158.)

In the samevolume, Sylvia Scribner goes still further.

"Thechild is an assimilator of sign systems and develops higher functions throughprocesses of internalization. Adults in the course of history are the inventorsand elaborators of sign systems, as well as users. Assimilative and creativeprocesses are not the same." (Scribner 1985, 130.)

Scribnersupports her standpoint by referring to Vygotsky's discussion on thedevelopment of memory. But it is obscure how that relates to the question ofchildren's potential to create new cultural means and forms. Probably morerelevant are the findings of Davydov and Poddyakov (Dawydow 1977;Poddjakow 1981) according to which even pre-school children can form realtheoretical generalizations, though they do not yet appear in a verbal form buttake other, object-bound and enactive as well as graphic forms of expression.

As a matter offact, Vygotsky, too, said very little about creative processes (except in hisearly work on the psychology of art). Vygotsky's concept of the zone ofproximal development is itself in need of development. Thecultural-historical school founded by Vygotsky has up to the present timeconcentrated on the acquisition, assimilation and internalization of the toolsand sign systems of the culture. How these tools and sign systems arecreated has mainly been treated as a problem for the future. Oneimportant exception is the theoretical work of V. S. Bibler. He reveals thecreative potential in Vygotsky's conception of internalization as follows.

(...) theprocess of immersion of social relations in consciousness (...) is (...) aprocess of transforming expanded and relatively independent 'cultural models,'prepared cultural phenomena, into the culture of thinking, adynamic culture, which is fused and condensed in the individual person. Anobjectively developed culture acquires a subjective determination in innerspeech, i.e., a determination in which it is manifest as a future-oriented formof creativity, of new, as yet nonexisting, merely possible models ofculture. The relationship is inverted, and inner speech must be understood asnot so much a 'phenomenon of internalization' as the intention of the'externalization' of thought, as an embryo of a new, not yet objectivelyposited culture, not yet deployed in the external, social aspects of culture,an embryo concentrated in the concept. Social relations are not only immersedin inner speech: they are radically transformed in it; theyacquire a new (as yet unrealized) sense, a new orientation towardexternal activity, toward their objective materialization. (...) But then,(...) inner speech (and its elementary form of mono-dialogue) may berepresented as the dialogue of those cultural-historical models of thinking(activity) that are internalized in the different voices of my own 'I,'the argument among these functioning as a kind of positing, the creation of newcultural phenomena (knowledge, ideas, works of art)." (Bibler 1984,52-53.)

The individual'mechanism' of transforming internalization into externalization may well followthe lines sketched by Bibler. But the relationship between individual andsocietal development remains the fundamental problem within the concept of thezone of proximal development. Griffin and Cole (1984, 48-49) stressthat the zone of proximal development "includes models of a future, modelsof a past, and activities that resolve contradictions between them". Butthis temporal perspective seems to be understood in individual terms only: theindividual moves from one activity to another in the course of hisdevelopment. What is not discussed is whether and how the activitiesthemselves as societal systemic formations develop and change constantly.

Oldand new, regressive and expansive forms of the same activity existsimultaneously in the society. Children may play in a reproductive andrepetitive manner, but they do also invent and construct new forms andstructures of play, new tools and models for play activity. Their playing seemsto become increasingly consumptive and pre-fabricated, the exchange-valueaspect seems to dominate it more and more as the toys and games have become bigbusiness. But is it so simple and uni-directional? What are the innercontradictions and historical perspectives of the play activity of ourchildren? Once in a while parents are astonished as they find theirchildren playing something which does not seem to fit any preconceived canons:something new has been produced 'from below'. Sometimes these inventions frombelow become breakthroughs that significantly change the structures of playactivity.

Humandevelopment is real production of new societal activity systems. It is not justacquisition of individually new activities, plus perhaps individual creation of'original pieces of behavior' (recall the porpoise). Above, I havedistinguished between three types of development: the individual-explosive,the invisible-gradual, and the collective-expansive. Thethird type is the one which requires intuitive or conscious mastery - thesubjectification of the subject. The concept of the zone of proximaldevelopment as an instrument of subjectification is relevant inthe context of this third type of development. To put it more precisely, theindividual-explosive and invisible-gradual types of development can bepurposefully affected and steered in a societally meaningful scale onlyindirectly, through the collective-expansive type.

A provisionalreformulation of the zone of proximal development is now possible. It isthe distance between the present everyday actions of theindividuals and the historically new form of the societal activity that can becollectively generated as a solution to the double bind potentiallyembedded in the everyday actions.

KlausHolzkamp, seemingly unaware of Vygotsky's conceptualization, has recentlydeveloped a somewhat similar idea of human development. According to him,embedded in every individually experienced existential threat and restrictionin capitalism there is a 'second alternative' of "exceeding thelimits of individual subjectivity through immediate co-operation in thedirection toward realizing general interests of joint self-determinationagainst dominating partial interests" (Holzkamp 1983, 373).Holzkamp speaks here of the principle of 'double possibilities'. Heconcretizes further this idea with the concepts of 'possibility zone' and'possibility generalization'. The former refers to a "relationshipbetween general societal possibilities to act and my specific way of realizing,limiting, mystifying them" (Holzkamp 1983, 548). The latter means that theindividual grasps and realizes his individual possibilities to act in relationwith other individuals within the same 'typical possibility zone' and with thesocietal possibilities (Holzkamp 1983, 549).

We still needa closer, if only tentative, analysis of the steps to be taken in travelingthrough the zone of proximal development. Recall the three sub-zones suggestedby Bratus and Lishin: the zone of a need state, the zone of motive-formation,and the zone of transformation of needs and activity. In the light of thepreceding discussion, these three steps turn out to be insufficient. What islacking, above all, is the transformation of the need state into adouble bind, into a contradiction which uncompromisingly demands qualitativelynew instruments for its resolution. To make the necessary steps concrete, Inow turn to a literary example of the zone of proximal development.

THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN AS A VOYAGE THROUGH THEZONE OF PROXIMAL DEVELOPMENT

The example isMark Twain's (1950) The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. At theoutset, Huckleberry Finn's dominant activity is that of vagabondism. It is asocial kind of vagabondism, seeking communion with the adventurous middle classboy Tom Sawyer, on the one hand, and with poor, downtrodden people like theblack slave Jim, on the other hand. This social vagabondism takes place withina culture of slavery. Huck has been offered the opportunity to adapt himself tothe safe middle class family life - but he rejects that alternative after awhile. The primary contradiction inherent withinevery component of this activity is that between the private freedom of theindividual vagabond and the public unfreedom prevailing in the vagabond'simmediate cultural context. The latter is threatening Huck Finn, too - in theform of either soft middle class taming or violent suppression by theauthorities.

In its initialform, Huck Finn's life activity may be depicted with the help of the diagram inFigure 3.2.

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Figure 3.2: The primarycontradiction of Huckleberry Finn's life activity

Thestory begins with Huck being harrassed and threatened by his father. Huck getsaway by staging his own death. He settles on an island in the Mississippiriver. There he accidentally meets the runaway slave Jim, his old friend.Because of the friendship, Huck promises not to tell anybody about Jim.The two live on the island a while. Then things start to move.

Huck finds outthat Jim is being intensively hunted. So they get off down the big river on araft, floating during the nights and hiding during the days. But this is notyet 'intensive action' to resolve the dilemma. Rather, it is reaction, forcedby the circ*mstances and still relatively aimless. This goes on untilthey approach areas where slavery is abolished. Now, for the first time, Huckrealizes that his activity of vagabondism has a qualitatively newsubject: it is no more just himself, it is him and Jim together. Inhis introduction to the book, T. S. Eliot points out that "Huck in factwould be incomplete without Jim" (Eliot 1950, xi).

This newcomponent represents a new kind of activity - it disturbs the old activity andaggravates its latent inner contradiction. Thus, the story enters the phase ofthe secondary contradiction between the introduced new componentand the old components of the activity. The new collaborative subjectcomponent is in sharp conflict with the old secondary instrument, namely theavoidance model of 'don't get mixed up with other people's troubles'. It isHuck's uncompromising honesty that brings this secondary contradiction to thelevel of a genuine double bind.

Now Huckreally starts to paddle ashore. As he leaves, Jim says to him:

After theintensive episode, Huck formulates in an inner dialogue ('conversation with thesituation', as Schšn [1983] calls it) the new general model for generating thenew activity.

"Theywent off and I got abroad theraftHuck's new general instrument is

feeling badand low, because I knowedverysomething like a pragmatic moral

well I had donewrong, and I see itwarn'tphilosophy. It harnesses him

no use for meto try to learn to doright;against the attacks of the 'bad

a body thatdon't get started rightwhenconscience' stemming from the

he's little,ain't got no show - whentheold societal norms of slavery.

pinch comesthere ain't nothing to backhimThismodel represents and

up and keephim to his work, and soheanticipates the new activity

gets beat.Then I thought a minute,andoffered to Huck, namely that

says tomyself, hold on - s'poseyou'dof bourgeois-liberal way of life

a done rightand give Jim up: wouldyou(let it be called the given new

felt betterthan what you do now? No,saysactivity). But this model already

I, I'd feelbad - I'd feel just the same wayIcontains the seeds of a new

do now. Well,then, says I, what's the useinner contradiction: that between

you learningto do right, whenit'sbourgeoisliberalism and radical

troublesome todo right and ain'tnomoral anarchism.

trouble to dowrong, and the wages is just

the same? Iwas stuck. I couldn't answer

that. So Ireckoned I wouldn't bother no

more aboutit, but after this always do

whichevercome handiest at the time."

(p. 91;italics added.)

The rest ofthe book is about the practical application of the model of thenew activity. There occurs, in a miniature form, a transformation of actionsinto a collective activity, temporarily joined by a couple of common crooks(representing the old vagabondism-in-slavery) and finally joined by Tom Sawyer,too (representing the given new bourgeois-liberal pragmatism).

This practicalapplication and generalization is not smooth and straightforward. The newliberatory actions accomplished within the process of drifting down the riverare in general subordinated to the old form of vagabondist activity. Thecirc*mstances and the two crooks repeatedly disrupt the new liberatory actions:the communion of Huck and Jim is broken up, Huck has to act individually,and Jim is isolated or captured. This struggle between the old and the givennew activity is resolved in favor of the latter only as Tom Sawyer finallyenters the scene (and Twain ingeniously forces Huck to pretend he is Tom, thuspersonifying the transition to the given new activity).

But thestruggle between the old and the given new activity is not the most essentialtension in the application and generalization phase. The more important (andless noticeable) aspect is that something entirely newemerges beside these two societally already known activity forms. In certainproblematic, ambivalent situations, Huck's actions produce results that exceedqualitatively the limits of both the old and the given new activity. Theseactions take the external form of severe disturbances, nearly catastrophes. Twosuch situations may be identified.

In the firstone, Huck is accidentally separated from Jim and lives temporarily with thearistocratic family of the Grangerfords. The family has a feud with anotheraristocratic family. One day Sophia, a daughter of the Grangerfords, asks Huckto fetch her Testament from the church. Huck senses that this is illegitimatebut helps the girl anyway. This action has no value either for theold activity of vagabondism or for the given new activity of bourgeoispragmatism. The Testament contains a note that launches the running off of twolovers, Sophia and a son of the rival family. A massacre ensues, but the loversare rescued.

In the secondsituation, the two crooks, using Huck as their servant, steal the wholefortune of the newly orphaned Wilks girls. Huck follows the crooks andfinds out where they hide the money. He takes it and hides it again. He then riskshis neck and informs one of the girls of what has happened. Both thecrooks and Huck are eventually caught, barely escaping a public beating - butthe girls get their money back. Again, Huck's action is not a logicalconsequence of either the old or the given new activity. To the contrary, itclearly endangers both.

In both thesesituations (like in the original double bind situation on the river), Huckdevelops actions indicating the birth of a third activity, an emergentformation that I'll call the created new activity. These actionsremind us of the 'liberated or unloosed action' mentioned by V. P. Zinchenko inChapter 2 and of the loss of the 'self' in Learning III as described by Batesonearlier in this chapter. Bateson (1978, 63-64) extends the notion ofnon-pathological double binds using as examples the actions of mountainclimbers and musicians, "unrewarded and unbribed in any simple way".Shotter (1982, 47) points out that such actions contain a transfromation of thesubject "from a being who must first plan an action in thought beforeexecuting it in practice into someone who knows what to do in the course ofdoing it".

"Whileplaying games it is not uncommon for people to have such experiences, if onlybriefly; they simply become momentarily a game-playing thing, describing theexperience as that of 'losing themselves in the game', or of playing 'out oftheir minds'. In such a state, players are clearly not unconscious as such, butthey do not have to try to do what is required of them, they seemsimply to know it in the course of doing it." (Shotter 1982, 48.)

These actionscorrespond to the aspect of radical moral anarchism, embedded in Huck's newgeneral model. This radical moral anarchism makes Huck a personality ofentirely different dimensions from that of Tom Sawyer. For Tom, freeing Jim isa safe, imaginary adventure - Tom knows that Jim has actually been grantedfreedom but doesn't tell this to Huck and Jim. For Huck, it is a deadly seriousmoral and existential struggle. Just before Tom enters, Jim is captured andHuck faces his double bind again.

"Istudied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself:

'All right,then, I'll go to hell' (...)

It was awfulthoughts, and awful words, but they was said. And I let them stay said; andnever thought no more about reforming. I shoved the whole thing out of my head;and said I would take up wickedness again, which was in my line, being brung upto it, and the other warn't. And for a starter, I would go to work and stealJim out of slavery again; and if I could think up anything worse, I would dothat, too; because as long as I was in, and in for good, I might as well go thewhole hog." (Twain 1950, 214.)

It is thisvery quality, this going beyond the alternatives given, that makes HuckleberryFinn a great classic.

"And the styleof the book, which is the style of Huck, is what makes it a far moreconvincing incidctment of slavery than the sensationalist propaganda of UncleTom's Cabin. Huck is passive and impassive, apparently always thevictim of events; and yet, in his acceptance of his world and of what it doesto him and others, he is more powerful than his world, because he is more awarethan any other person in it." (Eliot 1950, x.)

It is almostas if Mark Twain had had a notion of the zone of proximal development as heended the book with Huck's words.

"But Ireckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because AuntSally she's going to adopt me and civilize me, and I can't stand it. I beenthere before." (Twain 1950, 292.)

THEORETICAL LESSONS

What can belearned from this case analysis?

Firstly,the emergence of Leont'ev's (1981, 402-403) 'only understood motive' is arelatively late step in learning activity. It represents a phase where thecontradiction is already external, between two activitiesand motives, the old one and the given new one. A forced early instructionalintroduction of this 'only understood motive' may effectively hide - perhapsalso prevent - the unfolding of the initial phases of learning activity, i.e.,the appearance of the primary contradiction (need state) and thesecondary contradiction (working out the double bind).

Secondly,there are two aspects in the new activity produced by learning activity,namely the given new aspectand the created new aspect.The given new aspect is that which is offered by the advanced frontiers ofculture (like by the pragmatic bourgeois liberalism in Huck Finn's case). Thecreated new aspect is that which emerges as the new actions produce richerresults than expected and thus expand, transform or even explode theconstraints of the given new, turning into something wider and uncontrollable.Thus, the new activity realized is never qualitatively quite the same as therepresentatives of the advanced frontiers had planned. This means also that themodest terms of 'application and generalization' bear the true essence ofcreation and surprise.

From theinstructional point of view, my definition of the zone of proximal developmentmeans that teaching and learning are moving within the zone only when they aimat developing historically new forms of activity, not just at letting thelearners acquire the societally existing or dominant forms as somethingindividually new. To aim at developing historically new forms of activityimplies an instructional practice which follows the learners into their lifeactivities outside the classroom. It also implies the necessity of forming trueexpansive learning activity in and between the learners. The instructional taskis thus twofold: to develop learning activity and to develophistorically new forms of the central activity - work, forexample(of course learning activity is itself the central target activityduring the early school years).

Huck Finntraveled across the zone of proximal development without consciouslyconstructing and employing the vehicle of expansive learning activity. However,the sequential structure of the travel remains basically similar when the newvehicle is introduced.

But how couldinstruction possibly bring about something even remotely resembling Huck Finn'stravel?

Instructionoperates with tasks. The instructor's task and the learner's perceivedtask are seldom the same thing. If this is not taken into account, the learners"are scored as doing poorly when they are not doing the task in the firstplace" (Newman, Griffin & Cole 1984, 190). When thishappens, "the activity in the school does not help me to orientatemyself in the world, instead it becomes the part of the world where I mustorientate myself" (HalldŽn 1982, 138).

"A 'wholetask' thus becomes specifically a task considered in the context of theactivity or higher-level goals that motivate it. Whenever there is a task,there is always a whole task. But in some settings, like the laboratory, theclassroom, or wherever there is a hierarchical division of labor, thehigher-level goals may not be under the actors' individual control. (...) Instandard laboratory practice, where it is necessary to have as complete controlas possible over the goals that the subjects are trying to accomplish, subjectsare never called upon to formulate their own goals and so are confronted withonly a part of the problem - the solution part." (Newman, Griffin &Cole 1984, 191-192.)

The 'wholetask' of the above-mentioned authors is essentially identical to the 'openproblem' of Seidel (1976). The open problem includes its own generation andjustification. The closed problem contains only the operative solution part.Research on problem solving within cognitive psychology has been mainlyconcerned with the latter (see Chaiklin 1985 for an exception).

Earlier inthis chapter, problems, tasks and goals were identified as belonging toLearning II, to the level of individual actions. Questioning and explodinggiven problems and tasks, as well as generating and formulating new tasksderived from 'the context of the context', i.e., from the overall activity, areprocesses indicating a transition from Learning II to Learning III.

"In otherwords, in order to arouse interest it is necessary not to indicate the goal andthen try to motivationally justify the action and the direction of the givengoal, but it is necessary, on the contrary, to create a motive and then todisclose the possibility of reaching the goal (usually a whole system ofintermediate and 'indirect' goals) in one or another subject content." (Leont'ev1978, 182.)

"Ofcourse, in mastering school subjects (just as in mastering any kind ofknowledge in general, as in mastering science), it is decisively important whatkind of place cognition occupies in the life of man, whether it is a part ofreal life for him or only external, a condition coupled to it externally. (...)it is necessary that learning should enter into life, that it should have avital sense for the learner." (Leont'ev 1978, 185.)

"Consequently,we must speak of the problems of nurturing the motives for learning inconnection with the development of life, with the development of the content ofactual vital relations of the child (...)." (Leont'ev 1978, 186.)

This demanddiffers deeply from the Piagetian idea of learning in natural action settings.Here we are concerned with socio-historical activities as the proper forms of'actual vital relations'. HalldŽn (1982, 139) points out that in the classesobserved by him, in spite of varied 'assimilative actions' of practicalexploratory nature, instruction did not result in the pupils' "broadeningtheir frame of reference". These actions remained dissociated from thelife activities of the pupils. Or as HalldŽn (1982, 132) puts it, "it ispractically impossible for the pupils to work with a given question because itruns into conflict with their total life situation".

Huck Finn'slearning was based on his life activity, but not in the naive sense of'extending' or 'combining'. Developmentally effective learning, the 'goodlearning' of Vygotsky, grew out of the inner contradictions of the old lifeactivity.

In Huck Finn'scase, the double bind was created 'accidentally', as the inner contradictionsof the societal life touched the individual in a bare, unmasked form. But thisis not instruction. Can the teacher intentionally activate a double bind?

Obviously thisis possible, provided that we stick to the concrete-historical, analyzablecharacter of double binds. The prerequisite is that the teacher works his way fromthe inside of the activity to be developed. This means that theteacher takes as his point of departure the double nature and innercontradictions of the leading activity of his pupils. He works out the zone ofproximal development of this activity, first analytically and historically,then as a hypothesis, and finally in the form of practical tasks. The teacheracts as the devil's advocate, confronting the learners with the contradictionsof their own vital activity in a bare form.

This impliesthat the proper unit of developmentally effective, expansive instruction is nota discrete task, but a whole cycle of activity generation, of learningactivity, corresponding to the phase-structure of the zone of proximaldevelopment.

Davydov (1982,42) identifies the following constituent learning actions within learningactivity.

"1) transformingthe situation to find out the general relation of the system underconsideration;

2) modellingthe relation in question in a material, graphic and symbolic form;

3) transformingthe model of the relation for studying its properties in theiroriginal form;

4) deducingand constructing a series of particular concrete practical problemshaving a general method of solution;

5) controllingthe preceding operations;

6) evaluatingthe mastering of the general method (...)"

It isrelatively easy to notice the similarities between these learning actions andthe phases of the zone of proximal development described above in connectionwith Huck Finn's case. This phase-structure of the zone of proximal developmentmay now be depicted as the general cycle of expansion (Figure 3.3).

In the cycle,transforming 1 refers to the first learning action of Davydov, i.e., totransforming the initial double bind by means of thought experiments, innerdialogue, or the like. However, this phase has a complex sub-structure: theemergence of a new conflicting element in the structure of the oldactivity, aggravation of this contradiction into a double bind,reflective analysis, and experimentation ('intensive action').

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Figure 3.3: The phase-structure of thezone of proximal development

The phase ofobject/motive construction seems to begin with finding the first new specificinstrument which functions as a 'springboard' (Kedrov 1972; see Chapter 4 ofthis volume) for breaking the constraints of the double bind and forconstructing a new general model for the subsequent activity. Object/motiveconstruction is inseparable from modelling. The object is constructed throughmodelling it - and the model becomes a general instrument for handling theobject. The model is that of a given new activity, but it contains alatent inner contradiction which will give rise to actions anticipating the creatednew activity. This phase contains also Davydov's third learning actionwhere the model is transformed in order to study its properties in 'pureform'.

The phase ofapplication and generalization means the transformation of actions intoactivity (transforming 2, in the sense of Bratus and Lishin). In effect, thesubject starts to carry out certain actions that correspond to the model of thegiven new activity. These actions are initially more or less subordinatedto the resistant form and motive of the old activity. The new actions aredisturbed as the old activity breaks them down. But there is also another, lessunderstandable and more significant type of disturbance, caused by precursorsof the created new activity. Thus, transforming 2 is the place of birth of thesocietally new - of the outcomes unexpected by the instructor.

The phase ofactivity 2 signifies the consolidation of a new activity form, being a contradictoryunity of the given new and the created new. This phase is essentiallyreflective, conscious of itself, and contains Davydov's two last learning actions.The consolidation of the new activity (activity 2) may be divided into threebroad sub-phases. First the activity appears as systematic application,extension and generalization of the newly created instruments (e.g ., lettersin the case of the Children's Campaign). This sub-phase is offensive but oftensomewhat repetitive. In a way, the basic idea of the new activity is reproducedand multiplied in an almost exhaustive manner - essentially within the confinesof the uppermost 'production' sub-triangle of the structure of activity (Figure2.6).

The secondsub-phase may appear in the form of decreasing intensity and increasingdecentralization - recall the circular waves created by the stone thrown intowater. This sub-phase is essentially variation and creation of further newinstruments. The new activity consolidates itself by diversification, startingto produce new means - often surprising or even foreign to the initiators.Certainly the new activity has to coexist and compete with resistant structuresof the old one. The survival of the new activity becomes a question of whetheror not it succeeds in creating its own social 'infrastructure': rules,community, division of labor - resulting in triangles of exchange anddistribution (the bottom part of Figure 2.6). If the new activity remainswithin the sub-triangle of production only, it will soon run out of energeticand material resources. In other words, in order to survive, the new activitymust become a life activity for the subjects, and a truly societalactivity system for the neighbour activities.

In the thirdsub-phase of the consolidation, the new activity system is no more new. Thefocus is on the external relations of the activity. Paradoxally, this impliesalso that the activity system begins to defend and encapsulate itself. But thenew activity is not a closed system. It must, among other things, produceoutcomes for its object-activity and implement means produced by itsinstrument-producing activities. In short, it must co-exist and interact withina network of activities (recall Figures 2.7 and 2.11).

As I pointedout in Chapter 2, these transactions are characterized by quaternarycontradictions: the new central activity has to compete with and adjust to thedynamics of its neighbour activities. In the course of this outwardinteraction, the latent primary inner contradiction of the new activityis transformed into a new need state. The interaction of the new activity withits neighbour activities (like the interaction of Huck's vagabondism with Jim'sslavery) sooner or later introduces some qualitatively new, disturbing elementinto the system of the new central activity - which eventually may lead to anew double bind. In that sense, the arrow pointing forward from activity 2 impliesthe continuous character of the cycle.

To define theentire cycle as the basic unit of expansive learning, andconsequently of developmental instruction, means that we are dealing withlearning processes of considerable length. The intensive formation of ahistorically new activity system within a limited community or collective(e.g., workplace, school, family, trade union) istypically a matter of months and years. During such a period of creation,there appear iterative transitions back and forth between the phases of thecycle. Huckleberry Finn's zone of proximal development may now becondensed into a sequential systematization (Table 3.3).

For my presentpurpose, certain shortcomings of the case of Huck Finn may also be pointed out.First, Huck Finn is a loner and remains so. The case only hints at the problemsand possibilities of the collective dimension in zones of proximal development.Second, intentional instruction plays no part in Huck Finn's case - a factwhich somewhat restricts speculations on the relevance of instruction. Third,the phase of activity 2 (consolidation and reflection) is left practicallyuntouched by Twain.

In the nextsection, I shall extend my analysis of the zone of proximal development. Thematerial of the analysis is another novel, namely Seven Brothers byAleksis Kivi, the greatest classic of Finnish literature.

Table 3.3

The sequentialstructure of Huckleberry Finn's zone of proximal development

_______________________________________________

THE ANALYSIS OF THE ZONE EXTENDED: THE CASE OF SEVEN BROTHERS

Aleksis Kivipublished his Seven Brothers in 1870. It was the true breakthroughof Finnish literature written in the native language. Its unconventionalrealism was met with devastating criticism from the leading authorities ofliterary criticism. The author never became a celebrity in his lifetime. Seven Brothers begins with adescription of the physical and social setting.

"JukolaFarm, in the south of the province of HŠme, stands on the northern slope of ahill, near the village of Toukola. Around it the ground is bestrewn withboulders, but below this stony patch begin fields, where, before the farm fellinto decay, heavy-eared crops used to wave. Below the fields is a meadow, rimmedwith clover and cleft by a winding ditch; and richly it has yielded hay beforebecoming a pasturage for straying village cattle. In addition to these, thefarm owns vast forests, bogs and backwoods, most of which the founder of thefarm, with admirable foresight, succeeded in adding to it at the first greatsettlement of boundaries in former days. On that occasion the master of Jukola,with an eye more to the benefit of his descendants than his own best, hadaccepted as his share a forest ravaged by fire and by this means received seventimes the area given his neighbours. But all signs of this fire had long agodisappeared from his holding and dense forests had replaced them.

Such is thehome of the seven brothers whose fortunes I am about to relate. Their names, in order of age, are:Juhani, Tuomas, Aapo, Simeoni, Timo, Lauri and Eero. Tuomas and Aapo are twins,and so are Timo and Lauri. Juhani, the eldest, is twenty-five, while Eero, theyoungest, is barely eighteen. In build they are sturdy and broad of shoulder:all of middling height except Eero, who is still very short. (É)

Their father,a passionate hunter, met a sudden death in the prime of his life while fightingan enraged bear. Both were found dead, the shaggy king of the woods and theman, lying side by side on the bloodstained ground. The man was terriblymangled, but the bear, too, displayed the marks of a knife in its throat andside, while the keen ball of a rifle had pierced its breast. Thus perished asturdy fellow who had killed in his time over fifty bears. But for the sake ofthese hunting trips he neglected the care of his farm, and bereft of a master'sguidance, it had gradually fallen into ruin. Nor were the boys better inclinedtowards sowing and ploughing; from their father they had inherited his keenlonging for the chase. They laid traps, set gins and snares, and duggrouse-pits, to the undoing of wildfowl and hares. In such pursuits they spentthe days of their boyhood, until they could handle fire-arms and dared approachthe bear in its wilds.

Their mothertried, indeed, with scoldings and the rod, to turn their thoughts to work anddiligence, but the brothers' obstinacy proved equal to all her efforts."(Kivi 1929, 3-4.)

The primarycontradiction in the existing dominant activity of the brothers is that betweennature and culture, between free hunting and domesticated farming, between lifein the woods and life among people (Figure 3.4).

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Figure 3.4: The primary contradictionof the seven brothers' life activity

The need stateis manifested in a variety of latent threats and conflict situations. The boys'mother dies, leaving the brothers to steer the farm clear of total ruin. TheRector of the parish demands them to learn to read, which is also a legalprecondition for marriage. The conversation between the boys records theirelaboration of the need state.

"Aapo.What I say is that this wild life isn't right, and is sure to end inruin and destruction. Brothers! Other works and other habits, if we wish forpeace.

Juhani. Whatthou sayest is true, it can't be denied.

Simeoni. Godha' mercy! Wild and unbridled has our life been unto this day.

Timo.This life's as good as another, and so's this world. It's all right, even if itdoes tell on a man. Oho!

Juhani.The wildness, or to use the right word, the carelessness of our life cannotbe denied. Let us remember though, 'youth and folly, old age and wisdom.'

Aapo.It's time now for us to grow wiser, time to put all our lusts and passionsunder the yoke of our brains and do chiefly that which brings profit, and notthat which tastes best. Let us begin without delay to work up our farm intorespectable shape again.

(...)

Juhani.What dost thou, Lauri, always a man of few words, say?

Lauri.I'd say something. Let us move into the forest and say farewell to theracket of this world.

Juhani.Ey?

Aapo.The man is raving again.

Juhani.Move into the forest? What foolishness!

Aapo.Never mind him. Listen, this is how I have thought out the matter. (...)

Lauri.Another and better plan is this. Let us move far into the forest and sellwretched Jukola, or rent it to the tanner of Rajaportti. (...) Let us do as Isay and move with horse, dogs and guns to the foot of Impivaara's steep fell.There we can build ourselves a merry cabin on a merry, sunny hillside, andthere, hunting game in the forests, live in peace far away from the din of theworld and its crabby people. - This is what I have dreamed of night and day formany years.

Juhani.Has the Devil turned thy brains, boy?

(...)

Eero.There's an idea for you: say goodbye to salt and bread and instead suckmeat, gorge flesh like mosquitos or Lapland wizards. Would we eat fox and wolf,too, out there in Impivaara's caves, like hairy ogres?

Lauri.Foxes and wolves would give us skins, the skins money, and with money wecould buy salt and bread.

Eero.The skins will do for clothing, but let meat, bloody, smoking meat, be ouronly food; salt and bread are no use to apes and baboons in the forest.

Lauri.That is what I think of and what I shall yet do.

Timo.Let us take and weigh over the matter from the roots upwards. Why shouldn'twe be able to munch bread and salt in the forest? Why? It's Eero who is amocker, always in our way, always the cross stick in our pile. Who can prevent aman of the woods from drawing near to a village now and again, once in awhile,as his needs drive him? Or wouldst thou hit me on the head with a stick if Idid, Eero?

Eero.No, brother, I would even 'salt give to him who berries doth bring.' -Move, boys, move, I won't forbid you, but will even cart you there, carry youoff at a wolf's trot." (Kivi 1929, 12-16.)

The hesitationand uncertainty typical to a need state takes here the form of a debate withinthe group. The inner contradiction of the activity is personified in Eero. Heis the youngest and smartest of the brothers, always casting doubt and mocking.He first ridicules Lauri's idea. But a few moments later he takes on ridiculingthe authority and godliness of Juhani and Simeoni, respectively. They are goingto punish Eero with a spanking.

"Simeoni.Strike, but wisely and not with all thy strength.

Juhani.I know how.

Lauri.Not a single swipe, say I.

Tuomas.Leave the boy alone!

Juhani.He needs a little something on his tail.

Lauri.Thou wilt not lay a finger on him.

Tuomas. Letthe boy go! This minute!

Timo.May he be forgiven, Eero-boy, this once at least.

Simeoni.Forgiven, forgiven, until he tares and thorns choke the wheat.

Lauri. Don'ttouch him.

Aapo.Let us forgive him; and in so doing we can try to heap coals of fire on hishead.

Juhani.Go now and thank thy luck." (Kivi 1929, 26.)

The brothersfinally decide to submit to being taught how to read. The teaching is done bythe parish clerk.

"Veryslowly the brothers' learning has proceeded, the fear-inspiring strictness oftheir teacher tending rather to damp their zeal and their spirits than to carrythem onward. Juhani and Timo hardly knew more than the letter A; the others'knowledge has progressed a few letters further. Only Eero had proved a greatexception to the rest, and having left the alphabet behind him, worked nimblyat spelling." (Kivi 1929, 52.)

Today, theparish clerk has not let the boys eat before the evening comes, "tryingthe effect of hunger on their willingness to learn" (Kivi 1929, 52). Whenthey finally are allowed to, Juhani refuses in protest.

"Aapo.Such spite would make the old man laugh heartily.

Juhani.Let him laugh! I'm not going to eat. - Eero spells already, oh ay. - I'mnot going to eat.

Tuomas.Neither am I here, but on SonninmŠki Heath yonder. There I'll soon besitting on a bolster of heather.

Juhani.Right! There we'll soon be tumbling.

Eero.I agree to your plan, boys.

Aapo.What madness now?

Juhani.Away out of captivity!

Aapo.Brains ahoy!

Juhani.SonninmŠki's pines ahoy!

Eero.Just so! And our brains answer: ahoy!" (Kivi 1929, 53-54.)

The boys breakthe window and flee to the woods. Notice that Eero is learning well - butsupports actively the idea of fleeing. This episode is the first preambleto the double bind. A new element, representing the given new activity and theonly understood motive (agricultural life) has entered thestructure of the dominant activity (hunting life). This new elementappears in the form of new rules: reading is required as a rule ofcivilized agricultural life (not as an instrument, to be sure). This secondarycontradiction is not, however, worked out and sharpened. It is rather resolvedregressively. The boys rent out their home and build a new cabin in thebackwoods of Impivaara. But theunresolved secondary contradiction keeps haunting the brothers.

"Aapo.The path of our lives has taken a sharp turn today.

Juhani.That's what makes me so uneasy, so very uneasy in my mind.

Simeoni.Dark is the state of my heart. What am I? A prodigal son.

Juhani.Hm. A lost sheep in the wilderness.

Simeoni.Leaving our neighbours and Christian fellows like this.

Tuomas.Here we are and here we stay as long as the forest yields fresh meat.

Aapo.All will turn out well if only we always set to with common-sense.

Simeoni.The owl is hooting in yonder wilds and its cry never bodes any good.Doesn't it foretell fire, bloody battle and murder, like the old folks say.

Tuomas.To hoot in the forest is its job and has no meaning.

Eero.Here we are in our village, on Impivaara's turf-roofed farm." (Kivi1929, 122.)

Thecontradiction is aggravated as the brothers, during a hunting trip, are chasedby the 40 raging bulls of the neighbouring mansion of Viertola. The boys escapeon the top of a large rock in the forest. But they are surrounded by the bullsfor four days. Yelling and shouting do not help. Finally the brothers decide toshoot down the bulls with their rifles. The boys now again face the rules of theagricultural civilization. How to repay Viertola the damage? The jurymanthreatens the boys with cossacks. The situation comes close to a double bind.Juhani desperately suggests that the brothers start boiling tar and sellingthat to get money. Aapo points out that tar won't bring in enough money.

Juhani.Boy! how are we to appease the fiery master of Viertola and pay for hisbulls?

Aapo.Pitch won't be enough for that, nor tar nor game, which grows less at analarming rate. But look now, how one thought springs from another and one wordfrom another. When thou spokest of tarry stumps, there came into my mind theboundless backwoods of Jukola, its dense birch-woods, pine-woods, andspruce-woods. In a few days seven men could fell many acres of forest forsowing. We could burn the undergrowth and branches and sow the ground, andlater reap and take the harvest to Viertola as the price of his bulls, leaving,however, a part in the storeroom for our own needs. (...) And to some back toViertola, if the first crop is not enough to pay for the bulls, why a secondwill do it, and in any case a third. But until the grain waves in our newclearing, we can squeeze mother nature with all our might (...). We can go onthus for two years; but when a heavy-eared harvest stands in our clearing, thenwe can build frames for our ricks and hammer together a threshing-barn, andwell, that'll be like working on a real farm. But if we decide to begin such atask, one or two of us must go quickly to talk over the matter with Viertola,and I do believe he'll be appeased and agree to await the harvest from ourclearing; for they say he is a somewhat worthy fellow.

Tuomas.That's advice worth thinking over.

Juhani.Sure, 'tis worth it." (Kivi 1929, 253-254.)

Notice how theidea of tar, close to the forest-bound old activity of the boys, functions hereas the springboard, comparable to the lie of Huckleberry Finn. "Onethought springs from another and one word from another," says Aapo. Thenew general model is also embedded in Aapo's suggestion: "that'll be likeworking on a real farm". Intensive action ensues.

"Whereafterthey began the felling of the forest; axes clashed, the forest rang, and with agreat crashing pine fell on pine. Always in the van hastened Eero, cutting downthe tough pliant shoots with his hook. So fell many an acre of luxuriantforest, and all around spread the fresh scent of shavings and of green,coniferous branches. And soon on the sunny slope, Impivaara clearing lay ready,enormously large, so that its like had hardly been seen before. And the workhad been accomplished within five September days." (Kivi 1929, 255.)

The debt ispaid, but the new activity does not last. The boys fall back to the ways ofliving in the woods, now adding to that the distilling and drinking of spirits.One of the brothers, Simeoni, gets lost in the forest. The others search forhim desperately, finally finding him in poor condition. Simeoni tells he hasseen Luciferus himself in the woods.

"Juhani.Pitiful this is, ah, oh!

Timo.Don't cry, Juhani.

Juhani.I would weep blood if I could; here we have lived like Kalmucks, drunkspirits like Mahomets and Turks. But now may a new chapter follow that verse, adifferent life, or soon the awful anger of Heaven will fall on us like amountain and press us down to Hell. Ay, we lads have been warned by signs andmiracles, and it's the worst of devils for us if we don't heed these signs intime.

Lauri.It's the very worst we have to expect; for I too have something to relate.Listen: once while you were hitting the disc on the clearing, I walked in theforest, looking for useful bits of wood for tools, and while I slept on yonderheath I had a marvellous dream. I watched as though from the top of a tall pineyou playing fast and furiously with the disc on the clearing here along freshox-hides. And guess with whom? Brothers, it was with our own hot-temperedrector you hammered away. But what happened? The rector noticed at last that itwas no ordinary disc, but a red-backed a-b-c book you were hitting. This madehim fearfully angry, and waving his sword he shouted in aloud voice: 'Iiyah,iiyah!' and at once a terrible hurricane arose which sucked you up like chaffinto the power of the winds. This I dreamed and this dream must mean somethingtoo.

Juhani.Surely it means something, foretells some Hell's polka for us; that weneedn't doubt. We have been warned from two quarters, and now if we give noheed, fire, pitch and little stones will soon rain down on us as they once didon the towns of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Aapo.Don't let us be too terrified, all the same.

Tuomas.I won't say for certain, but what Simeoni has seen is perhaps all sprungfrom a drink-ridden brain." (Kivi 1929, 278-279.)

The brothersdecide to destroy their apparatus for distilling spirits. They then take offfor church, to pray. But on their way, they meet the final obstacle which willeventually aggravate their double bind to the utmost. The brothers' old rivals,the young men of the Toukola village, start mocking the brothers who, in theirisolation, have mistaken Monday for Sunday. A fight breaks out, and many menare wounded. After the fight, the brothers desperately ponder over their comingpunishment.

"Simeoni.Brothers, brothers! say a word. What are we to do to escape the clutches ofthe law?

Aapo.Ah! there is not a single road of escape left to us out of this fix, notone.

Juhani.We're trapped now, trapped! All is lost, all hope and happiness!

Tuomas.The Devil'll get us without any mercy; so let us take what we have earnedwith eyes shut. We disturbed a Crown Servant in the midst of his hurry, andthat's a serious thing; we made men into cripples perhaps, and that's a worsething. Ha! maybe we even knocked the dear life out of someone, and then all's well;we'll be shut up and can eat the Crown's carefree bread.

Simeoni.Oh we poor boys!

Timo.Poor sons of Jukola! And seven of them! What shall we do now?

Lauri.I know what I'll do.

Juhani.I do too. Knife to throat, every man of us!

Timo.For God's sake!

Juhani.My knife, my shining knife! I'll let blood in waves!

Aapo.Juhani!

Juhani.Let the blood of seven men flow into one single pool and let us drowntogether in this Red Sea, like every man-jack in the Old Testament once did.Where's my birch-handled knife that atones for all, the atoner of all?

Aapo.Calm thyself!

Juhani.Away out of my way, thou, and away out of this accursed life! My knife!

Simeoni.Hold him!

Aapo. Tome, brothers!

Juhani.Out of the way!

Tuomas.Steady, my lad!

Juhani.Let go, brother Tuomas!

Tuomas.Thou sittest down quietly.

Juhani.What good will quietness do us when all is lost? Art thou minded to takeforty brace of fresh birch-rods quietly?

Tuomas.I'm not.

Juhani.What wilt thou do?

Tuomas.I'll hang myself, but not before.

Juhani.Let's do now what we shall have to do in the end.

Tuomas.Let's think it over first.

Juhani.Ha-ha! It's all no use.

Tuomas.We don't know yet exactly.

Juhani.The law's waiting to lay its gloves on us.

Simeoni.Let's leave Finland and go as herds to Ingermanland!

Timo.Or as doorkeepers to St. Petersburg town.

Aapo.These are childish ideas.

Eero.Away off to sea to cleave the waves like our grand old uncle used to! Oncewe get away from the Finnish coast we are free from the hand of the law, andcan then try to reach the Englishman; a man's worth something in the masts ofhis ships.

Aapo.There is advice worth thinking over.

Tuomas.It might perhaps be that, but remember: before we could reach the coast,we'd most likely have the Crown's engagement-rings on our wrists.

Timo.Aah! Even if we get away from Finland with whole skins, when should we bein England? It's millions and thousands of millions miles there. Aa!

Aapo.Listen to a word: let's join the wolves ourselves, and it's little we needfear their teeth. Let's march to the army and enlist for a few years. Ah! it'sa hard way out, but still perhaps the best in this mess. Ay, let us set out forthat famous and great big battalion at Heinola, that marches and drills allsummer on Parola Plain. This is an idea worth weighing, seeing that the Crownlooks after its own.

Juhani.I'm afraid, brother, thou hast found the only way." (Kivi 1929,288-290.)

This is whatthe brothers decide to do. Notice, however, the content of Eero's suggestion.He tries to combine nature and civilization, freedom and social adjustment, ina unique way: off to sea (freedom, nature), then to the Englishman (sociality,civilization). The created new aspect in this solution is itsintellectually expansive nature: 'let us go and see the world', seems to beEero's real message. This does not correspond either to the old or thenew activity; it goes beyond both. But this solution is still immature - itwould rather escape than solve the contradiction.

So would dothe accepted solution, too. That is why it is never realized. The brothers setoff to Heinola barracks. But on the road they soon meet the Sheriff. They areon the point of running away, but then step forward, sure in the belief that theSheriff alone would not be able to arrest them. It turns out that nobody hasbeen killed in the fight and there are no charges against the brothers. Eventhe Parish Rector has ceased to haunt the brothers, regarding their case ashopeless. The brothers refuse to believe the Sheriff, thinking that this mightbe a trick to appease them before more troops arrive to make the arrest. Thebrothers hide in the woods for three days, watching the cabin in suspicion.Then Aapo is sent to the village to confirm their safety. As the truth finallybecomes clear to the brothers, they vigorously take up the given new activityof civilized agricultural life.

"Tuomas.And now to reading, now a-b-c-book in hand and the alphabet in our headseven if it has to be hammered there with a mallet.

Aapo.Now thou has said something which, if we carry it out, will bring us newhappiness. Ah! what if we were to start this great work together, withoutresting until it is done!

(...)

Juhani.Hard work conquers even the worst of luck. Ay, if we once start on the job,we'll stick to it with clenched teeth. But the matter needs thinking over,wisely and from the roots upward.

Aapo.We're going to try, for it is a mighty matter. Note: If we cannot read,even a lawful wife is forbidden fruit for us.

Timo.What! Is that so too? Well rot me! Then it's worth trying is this trick isperhaps going to help me to get a good wife, if I should ever be so mad as towant one. But who knows what'll come into a lad's head. Only God knows that.

(...)

Juhani. (...)But where can we get a good and gentle teacher?

Aapo.I've thought that out too. I look to thee, Eero. Ay, ay, thou hast a sharphead, that can't be denied. But thank God for this gift and go out for a fewweeks into the world, with food on thy back and thy a-b-c-book on thy bossom.Go to the Sheriff's Man, that fine wolf-catcher will teach thee. (...) Thenwhen thou hast learned the chief points of ordinary reading, thou canst returnand teach us.

Juhani.What? Is Eero to teach us? Hm! Eero! Well, see that it doesn't make theeproud, Eero; that I say.

Eero.Never! A teacher must always set a good example to his pupils,remembering the day of stern reckoning when he will have to say: 'Here, Lord,am I and those Thou gavest me.'

Juhani.Hark, hark, did it prick thee? But this is what is going to happen: thouwilt teach me when I want, and I learn from thee only when I want. That's that.We'll keep thee in order all right, that thou knowest. But maybe this plan willdo.

(...)

Aapo.Eero, what is thou own idea of the matter?

Eero.I'm willing to think it over." (Kivi 1929, 302-304.)

This plan wasfollowed. Eero's instruction and the brothers' learning themselves were notmuch more modern than the first attempt in the parish clerk's house. But theselow-level learning actions gain a new quality because of their overall activitycontext. It is no more school-going. This time, the context is that ofconquering a new central activity with the help of certain - albeit mechanical- learning actions. The whole long process of traveling across the zone ofproximal development has not been characterized by conscious mastery, orexpansive learning activity. But at this point of decisive transition(application and generalization of the new model), the brothers are subjectsof their specific learning actions.

"Eero satas teacher and his brothers as pupils, all shouting as with one mouth the namesof the letters as the youngest brother called them out. (...) Hard andagonizing was this work to them, full of agony especially in the beginning;sorely they all sighed and sweated. Hardest of all worked Juhani; for very zealhis jaw would shake, and dozing Timo who sat beside him received many an angrypoke of his fist whenever his poor head drooped. An added trial was that Eerodid not always take his high calling with due gravity, but frequently allowedstinging little remarks to pass his lips. For this he had received manywarnings from his brothers, but the game was dear to him.

Once on awinter day, when a biting frost prevailed outside and an almost rayless sunshone over the southern rim of the world, the brothers sat hard at work intheir cabin, a-b-c-books in their hands. The devoted, but monotonous sound oftheir reading might have been heard afar; it was the second time they weregoing through the alphabet.

Eero.A.

TheOthers. A.

Eero.B.

TheOthers. B.

Eero.Ay, A is the first letter of the alphabet and Z the last. 'A and Z, thebeginning and the end, the first and the last,' as it says somewhere in theBible. But have you ever happened to see the last as the first, Z as A? Itcertainly looks a bit funny to see that little thing, the one that always usedto be at the tail end, suddenly co*ck on the dunghill and all the others lookingup to him with honour and respect, as at something fatherly, even though theydo it with somewhat bulging eyes. But why do I turn to matters with which wehave nothing to do just now. Ay, go on reading.

Juhani.Do I catch thy meaning? I'm afraid I do. But teach us nicely now, or theDevil'll get you.

Eero.Go on nicely with your lesson now. C.

TheOthers. C.

Eero.D.

TheOthers. D, E, F, G.

Juhani.Wait a bit; I, poor boy, have lost my place. Let's start again at thebeginning.

Eero.A.

TheOthers. A.

Eero.A, B, C, 'the cow ran up the tree.' What does this sentence tell us,Juhani. Canst thou explain it?

Juhani.I will try to discover its meaning. Come out with me a little, youothers; there is something important we must talk over.

So saying, hewent out into the yard, and the others followed him; and with beating heartEero began guessing what this withdrawal might portend. But in the yard thebrothers discussed the best way of keeping down Eero's cruel way of bent forjoking, which caused him to jest with the a-b-c-book in his hand and thus mocknot only them, but also God and His word. And they concluded that he had earneda good whipping. They entered the cabin again, and the fresh birch-rod inJuhani's hand struck the soul of Eero with dread. Tuomas and Simeoni seized thelad firmly; and then Juhani's rod did its best. Eero yelled, kicked and raved,and when at last he was free, looked around him with terrible, murderousglance.

Juhani.Now then, take the book in thy hand and teach us properly, thou rascal, andremember this hiding whenever thy blackguard tongue feels like talkingmockingly. Ah indeed! Did it hurt? Ay, ay, thous hast got what I prophesiedthee years ago. For 'evil is the mocker's reward in the end,' that thou nownowest. Take the book, say I, and teach us in a sensible and proper way, thourascal." (Kivi 1929, 308-310.)

This incidentexemplifies how the given new actions are disturbed as the created new breaksinto the open. Eero's acting does not correspond to either the old activity(isolated hunting life) or to the given new activity (civilized agriculturallife). And it certainly brings no reward to him, rather to the contrary.

There areother kinds of disturbances, too. Frost destroys the brothers' crops, and ahard winter threatens them with a famine. The disaster is avoided as thebrothers once more succeed in bear hunting. Temporarily, the old activity takesover once more. But this disturbance is regressive or nostalgic, fundamentallydifferent from the one described above.

Now what isthe essence of the created new activity manifested in Eero's actions? What isthe inner contradiction embedded in the new model of agricultural life?

Eero's jokecited above hits the heart of the matter: "it certainly looks a bit funnyto see that little thing, the one that always used to be at the tail end,suddenly co*ck on the dunghill and all the others looking up to him with honourand respect, as at something fatherly, even though they do it with somewhatbulging eyes". The message is clear: the stable hierarchies based onwealth, age and physical power are turned upside down. The last becomes thefirst. The smallest and youngest takes the power which is suddenly based onknowledge, wit and intellect.

Thisperspective is real and objective, not just Eero's subjective fancy. The verystability and unity of the Lutheran agricultural order required the ability toread. But this ability was a double-edged sword. It could be turned into an instrumentinstead of a rule. Eero's actions anticipate just this: a creatednew activity where reading and intellect are used as instruments of power,implying an essentially dynamic and fluid social and economic order - thatwhich was to take the shape of industrial capitalism.

In the lastchapter of the book, Kivi sketches the future destinies of each of thebrothers, Eero being the last of them.

"OnSundays and holidays he either studied his newspaper, or wrote the news ordescribed parochial happenings from his own parish for the same newspaper. Andgladly the editor accepted these writings of his, whose contents were always tothe point, their style pithy and clear, often showing genius. And with theseinterests his outlook on life and the world broadened. The country of his birthwas to him no longer a vague part of a vague world, of which he knew neitherthe site nor the character. He knew well where lay the country, that dearcorner of the earth, where the Finns dwelt in toil and struggle, and in whosebosom the bones of his fathers rested. He knew its frontiers, its seas, itssecretly-smiling lakes and the pine-clad ridges that run like stake-fencesthroughout its breadth. The whole picture of the land of his birth, itsfriendly mother-face, had sunk for ever into the depths of his heart. And fromit was born in him the desire to help the happiness and prosperity of hiscountry. Through his sturdy and unresting endeavours a kind of elementaryschool was built in the parish, one of the first in Finland. And other usefulinstitutions, too, he brought into the district. And in all his work in thehouse his eye dwelt constantly on his eldest son, whom he had decided toeducate into a man of knowledge and skill." (Kivi 1929, 402-403.)

Aleksis Kivihimself was an Eero of the Finnish nation, only with a less happy andharmonious end. His book disturbed the given new way of life, the stablehierarchy of authority. The leading literary critic crushed Seven Brothers,accusing it for low naturalism. Kivi lived in constant financial anguish. Hismental health was shattered, and he died in oblivion in 1872.

I'll nowsummarize the brothers' voyage across the zone of proximal development in thefollowing table (Table 3.4). Justlike Huck's case, the case of the brothers represents a developmental sequencestructurally similar to learning activity but occurring essentiallynon-consciously, without learning activity. A comparison between thevoyages of Huckleberry Finn and the seven brothers also brings up aninteresting difference. In the case of Huck Finn, the double bind situation wasa singular conflict brought into the extreme and solved expansively because ofHuck's personal honesty and strength. In the case of the brothers, the doublebind appears four times, each time in a more aggravated form.

The reading instructionin the house of the parish clerk produces the first premature form of thedouble bind. The second appearance of the double bind ensues from the incidentwith the bulls. The third time it is faced after the drinking period, as theboys find Simeoni in the woods and hear about the visions of Simeoni and Lauri.Very soon follows the fourth and decisive appearance, as the boys consider theconsequences of their fight with the men of Toukola. The solution is not foundas a momentary revelation, manifested as an exceptional action in the pressingsituation. Rather, the solution is ripened stepwise, and the release of tensiondemands more calming down and relaxing thanextreme effort.

This isprobably one real type of the double bind. Bateson (1978, 63-64) seems to hintat something like this as he speaks of double binds as "takingpains", as "recursive and reflexive trains of phenomena". In onetype of double bind, a singular unexpected action is decisive for the expansivesolution. In the other type, the solution is reached through a series of moreor less incomplete and unsatisfactory attempts leading to the final point wherewithdrawal from regressive action may be the decisive element after which thesolution appears as something self-evident and easy.

Table 3.4

The sequentialstructure of Seven Brothers' zone of proximaldevelopment

__________________________________________________________

CONTRADICTIONPHASE CONTENTIN SEVENBROTHERS

Primary withinNeedstateHunting life in the woods: freedom in nature

thecomponentsvs. social interaction with people

of the oldactivity

SecondaryDoublebindIntruding new rules (reading, economic

betweenresponsibility,physical restraint) vs.

thecomponentsold instruments (isolation model, direct

of the oldactivityrecourse to physical action)

Object/motive(a) The idea of cultivating land as a solution

constructionto the payment of the bulls (springboard:

theidea of making tar)

(b) The taking up of reading and agriculture

as reactions to the release of tension after

the fight(springboard: the idea of wife)

New object: land, stable prosperity

New general model: civilized life (stable

agricultural hierarchy vs. dynamic movement

stimulated by reading and intellect as inner

contradictionof this new model of activity)

TertiaryApplication,Hunting (made necessary by frost and famine)

between theoldgeneralization;vs. agriculture and reading. The new actions

and the givennewcomponentof reading are disturbed by Eero's

activity/motiveactions oftheprecursor actions of the created new

(between theonly givennewactivity

understood andthe activity

effectivemotive)

QuaternaryActivity2:Agriculturallife of the brothers, including

betweenthenewreflection,Eero's work for enlightenment in the community

activityandconsolidation

its neighbour

activities

THE SECOND INTERMEDIATE BALANCE

Inthe preceding chapter, learning activity was characterized as 'learning byexpanding'. In this chapter, learning activity has been characterized as a voyageacross the zone of proximal development, and a sequential model ofthis voyage has been worked out. In the course of this voyage, elements of an objectivelyand societally new activity form are produced simultaneously withqualitative change in the subject of activity.

The model putforward in this chapter as well as the concrete literary cases may give apicture of an essentially spontaneous process, largely independent ofinterventions and instructional efforts from outside. The literary cases areactually examples of spontaneous forbears of learning activity. Theirsequential structure is basically similar to that of learning activity, butthey lack the specific instrumentality of the latter.

In Chapter 4,I'll turn to this specific instrumentality, representing the complex psychicformation of theoretical thinking or theoretical relation to reality.

In thepreceding chapters, I have formulated the object of my investigation in termsof expansion from the level of prevalent individual actions to the level ofnovel collective activity. Such transitions have commonly taken place as ifabove the heads of the affected individuals and groups, in the form ofhistorical tragedies and puppet shows of varying scales.

I have arguedthat a new type of 'learning by expanding' is emerging in the current phase ofhuman history. This implies that the transitions mentioned above are becomingpotential objects of conscious or intuitive mastery.

Consciousgoal-directed processes are situated on the level of actions, or secondaryinstruments. This level is the homestead of thinking. Thinking is mosttypically described as a series of relatively discrete actions of 'gap filling'or problem solving. The emergence of thoughtfully mastered learning activity or'learning by expanding' implies the extension of thinking into an activity, andthe merger of learning and thinking into one unified process on this level.

The problem isto identify the specific instruments of this new type of expansive learning andthinking. For this purpose, I shall first critically examine certaindominant modes of theorizing about thinking.

THE FIRST DICHOTOMY: 'PRIMITIVE' VERSUS 'ADVANCED' THOUGHT

In his book TheFoundations of Primitive Thought, C. R. Hallpike (1979) defines thecharacteristics of 'primitive' and 'advanced' thinking as follows (Table 4.1;compiled by Atlas 1985, 336).

Table 4.1

Characteristicsof 'primitive' and 'advanced' thought after Hallpike (1979)

___________________________________________________________________

Type of thought

'Primitive''Advanced'

Domain ofthought

Symbolismimage-based,affectivelinguistic

Classificationassociationaltaxonomic

Number and

measurementconcrete,absoluteabstract, relative

Spaceperceptualconceptual

Timequalitative,quantitative, capable of

incommensurablecomparison

Conceptionsandfusion of thepsychicalmind/body duality;

representationsofand physical;privatedistinction between private

thepersonstates notverballyand public awareness

elaborated

Causalityessentialistimpersonal, probabilistic

Hallpike usesthe Piagetian cognitive stages as his analytical framework. According to him,inhabitants of 'primitive' societies are for the most part characterized bypreoperational thought, not reaching the level of concrete operational thinkingtypical to children of seven years and older living in 'advanced' societies.

For Hallpike,life in 'primitive' societies is cognitively less demanding than life in'advanced' societies. One source of higher cognitive demands in 'advanced'societies is the presence of mechanical devices and complex technical implements.Substitutability of labor, impersonal productive relations and therationalization of activity are the features of civilization celebrated byHallpike. As Atlas (1986, 335) notes in his review, Hallpike's book echoes oldmainstream ideas on 'primitive' mentality. The novelty is his wedding of Piagetto this tradition.

The form oftheorizing demonstrated by Hallpike is deeply rooted in our psychologicalreasoning. It is salient in many current discussions of the psychology of humanthinking, including attempts with aims opposite to those of Hallpike's. Thisgeneral form of theorizing is the pervasive use of dichotomies asexplanatory constructs.

In hispioneering study of the cultural foundations of cognition, A. R. Luria (1976)distinguished between two broad types of thinking: one concrete, situationaland 'graphic-functional', the other abstract, categorical and logical. Theprotocol of a subject called Rakmat, produced as a response to a classificationtask, is a famous example of the former type.

"Subject:Rakmat., age thirty-nine, illiterate peasant from an outlying district; hasseldom been in Fergana, never in any other city. He was shown drawings of thefollowing: hammer - saw - log - hatchet.

'They are allalike. I think all of them have to be here. See, if you're going to saw, youneed a saw, and if youhave to split something you need a hatchet. So they're all neededhere.'

Employs the principle of 'necessity' to group objects in a practicalsituation.

(...)

Which of these things could you call by one word?

'How's that? If you call all three of them a 'hammer,' that won't beright either.'

Rejects use of general term.

But one fellow picked three things - thehammer, saw, and hatchet - and said theywere alike.

'A saw, a hammer, and a hatchet all have to work together. But the log has tobe there, too.'

Reverts to situational thinking.

Why do you think he picked up these three things and not the log?

'Probably he's got a lot of firewood, but if we'll be left without firewood, wewon't be able to do anything.'

Explains selection in strictly practical terms.

True, but a hammer, a saw, and a hatchet are all tools.

'Yes, but even if we have tools, we still need wood - otherwise, we can't buildanything.'

Persists in situational thinking despitedisclosure of categorical term." (Luria1976, 55-56.)

Luria'sschooled subjects behaved differently. To them, the task of isolating aparticular attribute as a basis of categorization seemed "a natural,self-evident procedure" (Luria 1976, 78). These schooled subjects actuallyrepresented a historical phase entirely different from that represented by Rakmat.Rakmat was a man of a pre-industrial and pre-literate age. The schooledsubjects were men and women of socialism and industrialization in the takeoff.

Luria'sconclusions imply that concrete situational thinking is something lower or lessdeveloped than abstract categorical thinking. This has prompted Cole andGriffin (1980, 352) to note that the qualitative changes in cognition thatLuria sought to demonstrate led him into comparisons "that weredistressingly quantitative in their implications".

The problemis: can development be conceived of as a linear process where certain valuableingredients (such as the 'abstractness' of thinking) gradually or abruptlyincrease while other, restrictive ingredients (such as the 'concreteness' ofthinking) decrease? The answer given by Cole and Griffin is negative. Whilebeing forced to admit that technologies have evolved from the simple to thecomplex and more powerful, they point out that in spheres like politics orfamily life such linear evolutionary schemes are inappropriate (Cole &Griffin 1980, 362).

The justifiedopposition to linear schemes easily leads to a denial of all logic orlawfulness in history. The result may be a pluralistic ahistoricalconstructivism along the lines of Nelson Goodman's (1978) 'worldmaking'. Theidea that anything may be constructed from what is given and that noconstructed world is instrinsically more true than any other is refreshing andspiritually liberating. But it is not very powerful in the face of theoverwhelming movement of societal reality. And it helps us very little in ourattempts to understand how our societies have evolved.

So Luria'sweakness is not the same as that of Hallpike's who presents his dichotomy inessentially ahistorical terms. Luria's dichotomy is an attempt tounderstand historically the transformation of thinking. It is preciselythis that makes Luria's study a pathbreaking classic. Luria's trouble is on adifferent level. It is a question of what is the logic of history - ifit is not linear.

THE SECOND DICHOTOMY: EXPERIENCE VERSUS ANALYSIS

Hallpike'sdichotomy sees the concrete thought of the 'primitive' societies as somethingessentially lower than the abstract thought of the 'advanced' societies. Somerecent treatises take a different standpoint, actually praising the neglectedvirtues of various forms of concrete, tacit and non-analytical thought (thoughnot necessarily connecting these forms with so called 'primitive' societies).

In their book Mindover Machine (1986) Hubert and Stuart Dreyfus discuss the nature andacquisition of expertise in the era of the computer. Their argument is that wecannot explain human expertise as behavior based on explicable principles andrules. A true expert makes decisions on intuitive basis. The psychologicalmechanism behind intuition is experience-based wholistic recognition ofsimilarity, producing deep situational understanding and fluid, rapidbehavior. Through experience, we store in our memories large amounts of typicalsituations which bear no names and defy complete verbal description:"experience seems immeasurably more important than any form of verbaldescription" (Dreyfus & Dreyfus 1986, ....).

"Whilemost expert performance is ongoing and nonreflective, when time permits andoutcomes are crucial an expert will deliberate before acting. But (...) thisdeliberation does not require calculative problem-solving, but rather involvescritically reflecting on one's intuitions." (Dreyfus & Dreyfus 1986,....)

The authorsdescribe the process of becoming an expert as consisting of five stages ofskill acquisition (Table 4.2).

Table 4.2

The fivestages of skill acquisition after Dreyfus & Dreyfus (1986)

__________________________________________________________________

SkilllevelComponentsPerspectiveDecisionCommitment

1.Novicecontext-freenone analyticaldetached

2. Advancedbeginner context-freeand"""

situational

3.Competent"chosen"detached understanding

and deciding; involved

inoutcome

4. Proficient"experienced"involved understanding;

detached deciding

5.Expert""intuitiveinvolved

Theacquisition process is depicted as a linear sequence from the analytical to theintuitive, from the rule-guided 'kowing that' to the experience-based know-how.It is essentially a process of internalization.

"Anexpert's skill has become so much a part of him that he need be no more awareof it than he is of his own body." (Dreyfus & Dreyfus 1986,....)

The process isnot only linear. For the authors it also seems to be automatic and self-evidentin every case of expertise acquisition. Experience is the golden key to theconsequent steps of this path.

Thisassumption fails to explain why so many people never become fluid intuitiveexperts in spite of years and years of experience. Somehow the authors seem toforget all about the rigidity associated with extensive routinization.

The Dreyfusbrothers' singular praise of experience may be contrasted with the findingsproduced over the years by research on learning from experience inprobabilistic situations (see Brehmer 1980; Kahneman, Slovic & Tversky1982). Brehmer (1980, 224-227)points out the weakness of the psychological research supposedly demonstratinghow people learn from experience. The tasks used in that kind of research, suchas paired associates and classification tasks, typically employ materials wherethe truth is manifest. In the word lists of paired associates the subjectimmediately knows what he is supposed to learn.Similarly, in the classification tasks the common components of thestimuli, such as color and form, are already well formed concepts and theexperimenter is certain that the subjects already have the hypotheses relevantto the task. Thus, the guarantee of the validity of the solution in these tasksdoes not come from experience. It comes from the experimenter through hischoice of materials.

"Theparadigm may thus very well model the situation in teaching, where the teacherdecides for the pupil what the truth should be in a given case, but itcertainly does not model the situation in which a person is learning fromexperience." (Brehmer 1980, 225.)

The situationis different when subjects face complex probabilistic tasks, such as diagnosticdecision making. The truth is not manifest. Nobody tells the practitioner whatthere is to learn, or even whether there is anything for him to learn. The factthat the chosen treatment leads to recovery does not mean that the decision wascorrect, for (a) the recovery may have had other causes, (b) other kinds oftreatment might have been equally or more effective, and (c) the chosentreatment may eventually have other unwanted effects which are, however,difficult if not impossible to trace back to their cause with full certainty.Even if the chosen treatment works, the explanation for why itworks may be very different from what the practitioner thinks it is. But thepractitioner learning from experience learns mainly from the outcomes ofhis actions. As Dreyfus & Dreyfus (1986, .....) put it, "theproficient performer has experienced similar situations in the past andmemories of them trigger plans similar to those that worked in the past".

"When welearn from outcomes, it may, in fact, be almost impossible to discover that onereally does not know anything. This is especially true when the concepts arevery complex in the sense that each instance contains many dimensions. In thiscase, there are too many ways of explaining why a certain outcome occurred, andto explain away failures of predicting the correct outcome. Because of this,the need to change may not be apparent to us, and we may fail to learn that ourrule is invalid, not only for particular cases but for the general casealso." (Brehmer 1980, 228-229.)

Mereexperience, even of probabilistic tasks, seems only to strengthen thesubjects' non-probabilistic thinking. Subjects prefer to assumethat there is a deterministic causal rule behind every task. When their assumeddeterministic rules fail, they tend to assume that there is no rule at all,rather than seriously consider the possibility that the rule may beprobabilistic in character.

"Theseresults, then, support the earlier results on clinical inference in that theyshow that people do not learn optimal strategies from experience even if theyare given massive amounts of practice. The reason why the subjects fail toimprove in these tasks seems to be that they lack the necessary basic schematato help them understand and use the information provided by their experience.Rather than using the appropriate statistical schemata, subjects use aninappropriate causal or deterministic schema. (...) The characteristic ofprobabilism is, of course, not manifest, but it has to be inferred. (...) for aperson with a firm belief in the deterministic character of the world, there isnothing in his experience that would force him to discover that the task isprobabilistic and to give up the notion of determinism. (...) In short,probabilism must be invented before it can be detected." (Brehmer 1980,233-235.)

The problemwith learning from experience is actually the classical problem of induction.According to the classical theory of induction, we make generalizations on thebasis of experiencing many things of a similar kind. Dreyfus and Dreyfus (1986,....) seem to subscribe to the classical position: "through practicalexperience in concrete situations with meaningful elements, which neither theinstructor nor the learner can define in terms of objectively recognizablecontext-free features, the advanced beginner starts to recognize those elementswhen they are present". And this happens "thanks to a perceivedsimilarity with prior examples".

This kind ofempirical generalization seems to work reasonably well when we are dealing withsimple stimuli and well established conventions. But when the cases we observeare complex and novel, how do we know that things are really similar andinstances of the same general class? For that, we need to know what therelevant characteristics are in the first place. We have to define what we areto learn before we can learn it. Pure induction turns out to be a fallacy, asNelson Goodman demonstrated long ago.

"To saythat valid predictions are those based on past regularities, without being ableto say which regularities, is thus quite pointless. Regularities arewhere you find them, and you can find them anywhere." (Goodman 1983, 82.)

What wecommonly think is pure experience is actually sense data selected and interpretedby our culturally molded but not necessarily modern schemata and mental models.Probability calculus was invented in the seventeenth century, perhaps because"it was only at this point in time that the notion of causality hadreached such a level that it could provide a suitable contrast against which toevaluate disorder" (Brehmer 1980, 235). In individual practitioners, theold cultural model of linear causality has tremendous persistence. Thisilluminates the conservative bias of experience. Recalling the Dreyfusbrothers' unreserved belief in the power of experience, Brehmer's (1980, 224)conclusion that we have come to have "a perverse conception of the natureof experience" is not unfounded.

The Dreyfusbrothers' dichotomy is experience-based intuitive expertise vs. rule-basedanalytical expertise. Employing Brehmer's critique of experience, weobtain a further dichotomy: experience as casual growth of wholisticintuition vs. experience as strengthening of rigid and biased routines. Sowe are still stuck with a dichotomy.

THE THIRD DICHOTOMY: NARRATIVE VERSUS PARADIGMATIC THOUGHT

One finalversion of the dichotomy deserves our attention. It is the split betweenscientific and artistic, or paradigmatic and narrative thought, recentlyrevitalized by Jerome Bruner (1986).

According toBruner (1986, 12), the paradigmatic or logico-scientific mode of thoughtattempts to fulfill the ideal of a formal, mathematical system of descriptionand explanation. It employs categorization or conceptualization and theoperations by which categories are established, instantiated, idealized, andrelated one to the other to form a system. Propositions are extracted fromstatements in their particular contexts. The logico-scientific mode deals ingeneral causes, and in their establishment. It makes use of procedures toassure verifiable reference and to test for empirical truth. Its language isregulated by requirements of consistency and noncontradiction.

The narrativetype of thought has opposite characteristics.

"Theimaginative application of the narrative mode leads instead to good stories,gripping drama, believable (though not necessarily 'true') historical accounts.It deals in human or human-like intention and action (...). It strives to putit* timeless miracles into the particulars of experience, and to locate theexperience in time and place. (...) The paradigmatic mode, by contrast, seeksto transcend the particular by higher and higher reach for abstraction, and inthe end disclaims in principle any explanatory value at all where theparticular is concerned." (Bruner 1986, 13.)

Bruner's bookis a continuation of a distinguished series on essentially analogousdichotomies: science vs. humanities; nomothetic vs. idiographic; concepts vs.images; positivism vs. phenomenology. In psychology, the same basic divisionwas championed already by Wundt.

Many recentefforts to deal with these dichotomies aim at balancing or combining the twosides. In his important book on Imagery in Scientific Thought,Arthur I. Miller (1984, 312) concludes that "when scientists hold atheory, they hold a particular mode of imagery as well". Herbert Simon(1983, 28) joins the credo by stating that there is no contradiction betweenthe intuitive model and the behavioral model of thinking, since "allserious thinking calls on both modes, both search-like processes and the suddenrecognition of familiar patterns". In his theory of fantasy, Roset (1984)presents the two sides as alternating phases of intuitive production and analyticalcontrol, or 'an axiomatization' and 'hyper-axiomatization'. These combinations leave us withconstructions of the type 'both-and' instead of mere 'either-or'. But the abstract dichotomous structureremains at the heart of the argument.

REACHING BEYOND THE DICHOTOMIES: DEWEY, WERTHEIMER AND BARTLETT

The problemwith the dichotomies is that they depict movement as mechanicalopposition, summation or oscillation between two fixed poles, thus effectivelyexcluding the dimension of concrete historical development.

'Either-or'and 'both-and' are closed and timeless structures. Within them, there is noroom for something qualitatively new emerging first as a subordinated mediatorbetween the two poles and being transformed into a determining factor that willeventually change the character of the whole structural configuration. There isno room for thirdness.

In classicaltreatises on the psychology of thinking one finds, however, intriguing attemptsto overcome the dichotomous structure. My first example is John Dewey's (1910)How We Think. In this book, Dewey takes up the problem of experience. Hefirst criticizes our belief in experience much in the manner Brehmer didit 70 years later.

"But eventhe most reliable beliefs of this type fail when they confront the novel.Since they rest upon past uniformities, they are useless when furtherexperience departs in any considerable measure from ancient incident and wontedprecedent. (É)

Mentalinertia, laziness, unjustifiable conservatism, are its probable accompaniments.Its general effect upon mental attitude is more serious than even the specificwrong conclusions in which it has landed. Wherever the chief dependence informing inferences is upon the conjunctions observed in past experience, failuresto agree with the usual order are slurred over, cases of successfulconfirmation are exaggerated. Since the mind naturally demands some principleof continuity, some connecting link between separate facts and causes, forcesare arbitrarily invented for that purpose." (Dewey 1910, 148.)

But Dewey isnot satisfied with this. He realizes that people may also become truly flexibleand inventive experts. This kind of development is based on experimentation andhypothesis testing. But that in turn cannot be explained as somethinggiven from above, mechanically separated from experience. Thus, experienceacquires a deeper double meaning.

"Inshort, the term experience may be interpreted either withreference to the empirical or the experimentalattitude of mind. Experience is not a rigid and closed thing; it is vital, andhence growing. When dominated by the past, by custom and routine, it is oftenopposed to the reasonable, the thoughtful. But experience also includes thereflection that sets us free from the limiting influence of sense, appetite,and tradition. Experience may welcome and assimilate all that the most exactand penetrating thought discovers. Indeed, the business of education might bedefined as just such an emancipation and enlargement of experience."(Dewey 1910, 156.)

The externalopposition of experience versus analysis has thus been transformed into aninternal contradiction within experience itself. But the mediating thirdness isstill lacking.

To find theway out, we must take a critical look at the logic implicitly attributed toboth components of experience, or to both intuitive and analytical thinking.Max Wertheimer's Productive Thinking (1945) is a classical workwhich provides us with this critique.

"Thereare several objects. (The way in which they are segregated, and why just so,how an object constitutes itself in separation from other objects, is aquestion neglected in traditional logic, is taken for granted without realinvestigation.) I compare them. In their qualities of their parts I findsimilarities and differences. Abstracting from the differences, andconcentrating on common qualities or parts in the objects, I get a generalconcept. The content is given by these common parts. This is the 'intension.'The 'extension' is the manifold of objects embraced by the class concept.

If we call thecommon element m, and the other elements x, an exactexpression for the class (or for any object as conceived under the classconcept) is

m + x.

Between the mand the x is an 'and.' The m is what is common in thecontents of the objects; the x is what there is besides the mand may vary in the contents of the various objects. The conceived datum, m,is independent of its setting to the left and right, and apparently must be sofor the sake of exact use of the concept in inference, syllogisms, etc. Thereis no reference to whatever else there may be in the object besides, noreferences to the role which m plays in this object, no referenceto its meaning as a part among the other parts of the same entity, no referenceto the structure of this entity. This abstraction is substractive; it simplyisolates the m. For the m it does not matter what thex is. (É)

In thehistoric development difficulties have arisen as to the adequacy of theprocedure (...). The problem was whether such a procedure, although exact, doesnot easily combine objects which are basically different in nature and, on theother hand, sharply separate objects which belong to each other in fact. Thelogician seeks help in the term 'essential.' There always was emphasis on thispoint; but although for common sense the meaning of 'essential' is often clearenough, unfortunately it was and has remained extremely controversial in logic.It has served to name the problem rather than to solve it. It has consequentlybeen rejected again, excluded in newer developments of logic." (Wertheimer1945, 207-208.)

Another gravefeature in traditional logic is its insistence that the items of discourse -concepts, propositions, etc. - must remain rigidly identical if repeated.In real thinking processes, items do not remain identical. To the contrary,precisely their change is required. Their functional and structural meaningchanges, and blindness to such change impedes productive processes. Formallogic is incapable of grasping development because it disregards "theintense directedness of live thought processes as they improve a givensituation" (Wertheimer 1945, 215).

Thisfundamental insight has long been neglected in cognitive and anthropologicalstudies of classification. A recent study of the conceptual organization ofpracticing blacksmiths indicates that the emphasis may be changing. "Whatleads to highly effective means of blacksmithing is flexibility inclassification. There is no one basic structure to which we can turn as the keyto the practice of blacksmithing. Blacksmithing, like other behavior, ischaracterized by productivity." (Dougherty & Keller 1985, 170-171; seealso Gatewood 1985.)

Wertheimer(1945, 10) concludes that in comparison with actual thought processes, therules and examples of traditional logic look "dull, insipid,lifeless". If one tries to describe processes of productive thinking interms of formal logic, one may have a series of correct operations but thesense of the process, what is vital and creative in it, is lost.

One factorbehind the persistence of formal-logical conceptions of thinking is theircorrespondence to certain deep-seated modes of real thought processes. Theoutstanding instance is our habit to proceed only successively, step by step,in an 'and-summative' fashion. According to Wertheimer (1945, 88), this may bedue to the fact that "we cannot write down two propositionssimultaneously, that in reports we have to proceed one thing after theother". In other words, the concrete-historical instrument of writtenlanguage enters as a structural determinant of thinking. UnfortunatelyWertheimer does not continue this line of analysis. It remains an intriguinghint, a sidetrack without consequence.

ForWertheimer, there is something essential behind the endlessmultitude of external properties of objects. This essential includes thefollowing aspects:

- the wholenessor whole-quality of the object or situation, as opposed to a mere additivelisting of its parts;

- the clear,complete and consistent structure of the object, as opposed to an incomplete orshallow structure;

- the innerrelatedness of the parts of the whole, as opposed to their separation ordiscreteness;

- the center,core or radix of the whole, as opposed to a structure without center.

The essentialis thus the 'good gestalt', and productive thinking is transition from a badgestalt to a good one. Wertheimer summarizes his idea in the followingdescription.

"Thinkingconsists in envisaging, realizing structural features and structuralrequirements; proceeding in accordance with, and determined by, theserequirements; thereby changing the situation in the direction of structuralimprovements, which involves:

that gaps, trouble-regions, disturbances, superficialities, etc., be viewed anddealt with structurally;

that inner structural relations - fitting or not fitting - be sought among suchdisturbances and the givensituation as a whole and among its various parts;

that there be operations of structural grouping and segregation, of centering,etc.;

that operations be viewed and treated in their structural place, role, dynamicmeaning,

including realization of the changes which this involves;

realizingstructural transposability, structural hierarchy, and separating structurallyperipheral from fundamental features - a special case of grouping; looking for structuralrather than piecemeal truth." (Wertheimer 1945, 190-191.)

For a moderncognitive scientist, characterizations like the one cited above areaggravating, if not totally meaningless. It is hard to find tangibleoperational, not to speak of measurable, counterparts or indices forWertheimer's concepts. For Wertheimer, this kind of reaction would rather provehis point, being another example of the dominant piecemeal, and-summative wayof thinking.

It is notjustified to nullify Wertheimer's work on account of its lacking concreteness.Wertheimer does present a very convincing series of concrete examples, rangingfrom the famous parallelograms to the unique account of Einstein's way to thediscovery of relativity. In these examples, he demonstrates how productivethinking proceeds. But he does not demonstrate what primary and secondaryinstruments could be used to enhance this type of thinking. Obviouslythis is why gestalt theory was overrun by the many variants of behaviorism.Skinner offered the world concrete tools with which one could do somethingpractical. Wertheimer did not.

This criticismcould be interpreted as crude utilitarianism. But there is more at stake here.The question of instruments is above all a theoretical weakness in Wertheimer'swork. As I noted earlier, he only accidentally touched the role of culturalinstruments - namely written language - as determinants of thedevelopment of thinking. He did not seek the expansive perspective by way of ahistorical analysis of the emerging new instrumentalities of thought. Hisconception was presented as an unhistorical, eternal solution. Productivethinking, aimed at the 'good gestalt', was for him a moral imperative,something stemming from inside, being already planted deeply in the humannature: "in humans there is at bottom the desire, the craving to face thetrue issue, the structural core, the radix of the situation" (Wertheimer1945, 191). Thus, at least implicitly, the emergence of productive thinking wassomething to be realized by individual willpower.

And yet, inspite of this critical weakness, there is something prophetic in Wertheimer'svision of thinking as expansion.

"In suchprocesses of thinking the solution of an actual task, 'Problem solved, taskfinished,' is not the end. The way of solution, its fundamental features, theproblem with its solution function as parts of a large expanding realm. Herethe function of thinking is not just solving an actual problem, butdiscovering, envisaging, going into deeper questions. Often in greatdiscoveries the most important thing is that a certain question is found. (É)

Often such aprocess takes a long time; it is drama with setbacks and struggles. There arefine cases in which the process proceeds irresistibly, through months, throughyears, never losing sight of the deeper issue, never getting lost in pettydetails, in detours, bypaths." (Wertheimer 1945, 122-123.)

So Wertheimergives us prophecy, but not instruments. To get some idea of the latter, I'llconsult a third classic, namely Sir Frederic Bartlett's book Thinking (1958).

According toBartlett (1958, 182), much of what is called inductive generalizing is "nomore than the acceptance, with biased selection, of already formed socialconventions". These generalizations "have little to do with transferof practice or training save that they make it more difficult" (Bartlett1958, 184).

There is,however, also an exploratory or experimental type of generalization which maylead to genuinely new discoveries and concepts. But even this is notaccomplished by 'purifying' the sensory data from cultural conventions. To thecontrary.

"However'pure' his aims may be he has to be able to practise a technique and to handlea technology. Far the most important aspect of the experimenter's need tomaster method and to handle apparatus is that in the majority of cases (...)the method and the instrumentation are brought into his field of work from theoutside." (Bartlett 1958, 133.)

Why areinstruments so important in experimental thinking? Successful experimentingrequires that the experimenter knows where to look for new crucial findings.This step becomes possible when apparatus, methods, hints, or establishedfindings are taken over from some field different from that in which they areapplied. They subsequently function as 'lenses' that allow for a novelperspective. (Bartlett 1958, 134.)

Bartlett'sinsight has recently been restated by Tweney, Doherty and Mynatt (1981,411-412).

"Scientistsself-consciously bring a store of knowledge to bear on the task at hand, aswell as a highly developed set of intellectual tools. They may use extensivenote-taking, carefully organized records of data, files, and libraries, as'external memories.' They use blackboards, mathematics, even formal logic.Latour and Woolgar (1979) noted that nearly all of the behavioral activity in amajor laboratory consisted of manipulation of symbols, and only a tiny fractioninvolved direct contact with the phenomena under investigation. Cognitivepsychologists have typically studied 'prescientific man.' The typical subjectin a psychological laboratory has access only to presented stimuli and almostnever to memory aids or other heuristics. The intent has been to study basiccognitive processes, unencumbered by cultural artifacts or aids. A cognitivepsychology of science will have to focus instead on aided cognition,on the psychology of scientists when all the tools of the trade are at theirdisposal."

However, theabove statement falls short of grasping the gist of Bartlett's idea. ForBartlett, the specific instrumentality of exploratory thinking implies also itsspecific sociality. The sociality of experimental thinking is not of animmediate, face-to-face nature (though it may certainly include that, too). Thenecessity of taking over instruments from other, overlapping fieldsmeans that experimental thinking is "fundamentally co-operative, social,and cannot proceed far without the stimulus of outside contacts" (Bartlett1958, 123).

This is aspecific extended kind of sociality. It indicates the expansive,cyclic nature of experimental thinking. According to Bartlett (1958, 136), whenany experimental science is ripe for marked advance, a mass of routine thinkinghas come near to wearing itself out by exploiting a limited range of techniqueto establish more and more minute and specialized detail.

"However,at the same time, perhaps in some other branch of science, and perhaps in somehitherto disconnected part of what is treated as the same branch, there areother techniques generating their own problems, opening up their own gaps. Anoriginal mind, never wholly contained in any conventionally enclosed field ofinterest, now seizes upon the possibility that there may be some unsuspectedoverlap, takes the risk whether there is or not, and gives the oldsubject-matter a new look. (...)"

This passagetakes us back to Figure 3.2. The phase of repetitive production of more andmore specialized detail precedes the phase of the need state, or the primarycontradiction. The phase where a new instrument is seized upon and taken overfrom an overlapping field corresponds to the emergence of the secondarycontradiction where a foreign element is introduced into the prevalent activitystructure.

In Chapter 3,I used the metaphor of a voyage to characterize the zone of proximaldevelopment. Bartlett (1958, 137) describes the course of experimental thinkingmuch in the same manner.

"Theexperimental thinker is in the position of somebody who must use whatever toolsmay be available for adding to some structure that is not yet finished, andthat he himself is certainly not going to complete. Because the materials thathe must use have properties of their own, many of which he cannot know beforehe uses them, and some of which in all likelihood are actually generated in thecourse of their use, he is in the position of an explorer rather than that of aspectator."

Notice theexpression "he himself is certainly not going to complete". HereBartlett hints at the social dimension of the expansion. The qualitatively newscientific concept - or the qualitatively new form of scientific activity - isgoing to be a collective formation that goes beyond all the individual actionsthat gave rise to it.

At the end ofhis book, Bartlett discusses artistic thinking. He notices that when an artisthas got his work well under way, "it very often appears to him thatsomething outside himself has taken charge and is now settling everything thathappens" (Bartlett 1958, 192). This experience is not foreign toscientists either. The phenomenon is due to the anticipation of theessentially collective and societal, tertiary character embedded within a workof art (or science) under creation (recall Zinchenko's 'liberated actions' and Bateson'sloss of the 'I'). The double nature of this expansion is evident in a work ofart in that "it is at once convincing and satisfying, and yetquestion-making and disturbing" (Bartlett 1958, 196). In other words, itrequires simultaneously acceptance of a convention - the given new - andpassing beyond it "towards whatever standard it serves" (Bartlett1958, 193) - the created new.

THE COMPLEMENTARITY OF INSTRUMENTS

When is theartifact an instrument? In the realm of primary artifacts, we speak of objectsof consumption, raw materials of production, and instruments of production.There are rapidly and slowly renewed objects of consumption: a loaf of breadbelongs to the former, a television set belongs to the latter. A piece of woodand a bag of flour are raw materials of production. A hammer is supposedly anexample of instruments of production.

One hesitatesto make sharp distinctions like those suggested above. The differences betweenthese types of artifacts are relative, and the same artifact may have differentmeanings depending on the context. For a television critic, the TV set is aninstrument of production. For a collector of old tools, the hammer may be anobject consumption.

In the realmof secondary artifacts, similar types may be tentatively distinguished. Firstly, the continuously changing flowof information, consisting of specific opinions, news, descriptions,advertisem*nts, etc. may be identified as the rapidly renewed objects ofconsumption on the secondary level.

Secondly, therelatively stable and general representations with which we filter and modulateour daily information flow may be identified as the slowly renewed objects ofconsumption on the secondary level.

Thirdly, bothabove-mentioned types may be turned into objects or raw materials ofproduction, to be molded and transformed into something new.

Fourthly, signsystems such as gestures, spoken and written language, or mathematical andmusical notation may be identified as typical, continuously available instrumentsof production on the secondary level.

The relationsbetween the types of artifacts are not 'and-summative' but genuinelycomplementary (see Otte 1980; 1984). They both presuppose and struggle witheach other. In the course of development, the different types are trulytransformed into each other.

Expansivethinking requires that relatively stable objects of consumptionand production are transformed into instruments of production.Cycles of expansion, or zones of proximal development, activate the "complementarityof representational and instrumental aspects" (Otte 1980, 64) of suchconceptual objects. The representational concept, as a static anduncritically accepted frame, must be transformed into an instrumental concept,critically reflected, molded and applied, and back to a new representationalframe.

COGNITIVE THEORIES OF CONCEPTS - ONCE AGAIN AT THE LIMITS OF COGNITIVISM

According tothe standard view, a concept is a verbal label that encompasses an array ofdiverse instances deemed to be related. The array must have coherence or familyresemblance. Concepts are formed by comparing particular objects with oneanother and finding their common features. Concepts are thus memoranda ofidentical features in objects perceived. They are means for bunching togetherobjects scattered in experience. The process necessary and sufficient togenerate concepts is classifying. (Sigel 1983, 242-245.) This standard view has been remarkablypersistent in psychology and education. Within the mainstream cognitivepsychology, it has been seriously challenged only quite recently.

The firstchallenge comes from the Piagetian impulse. Katherine Nelson is a well knownrepresentative of this challenge. According to her, "the child's initialmental representations are in the form of scripts for familiar eventsinvolving social interaction and communication" (Nelson 1983, 135). Ascript is a structured whole, a generalized representation of a sequence ofactivity that has occurred more than once. Therefore, the basic and initialform of conceptual representation is that of event representation. Concepts ofparticular objects are later achievements. In other words, paradigmaticcategories are extracted from syntagmatic representations. Finally contextfreecategories are formed.

"Notethat what is not involved in any of the operations outlined thus far is ananalysis in terms of the similarity of object types independent oftheir functional relations. The analysis assumes instead that the childoperates for a very long time with a conceptual representation that definesobject categories in terms of their relationships and not in terms of theirinternal qualities (...). The establishment of similarity relations is assumedto be a more advanced cognitive operation that takes place only after the basiccategories have been formed." (Nelson 1983, 141; italics in the original.)

Nelson'scritique of the standard view is that the abstraction and generalization ofsimilarity features is assumed to be initial. For Nelson, this type of conceptformation becomes dominant only later.

Nelson's viewleaves the old belief in induction intact. According to her, children acquiretheir scripts through the same kind of induction as the standard viewattributes to the acquisition of similarity features - only the unit is moreholistic, namely a social event script. In other words, Nelson's critiqueaccepts the basic logic of the standard view. This point has recently been made very clearly by IvanaMarkov‡ (1982, 59; italics added).

"We canthus conclude that although 'scripts' and 'plans' and perhaps some other termsintroduce 'context' and 'experience' into the understanding of language andevents, the conceptual framework has not changed. We may say that the theory of'scripts' and 'plans' is an example of the attempts to save the collapsingCartesian paradigm. (...) scripts and plans exist only because a person hasbeen in that particular situation before and is simply matching the pre-storedrepresentations to his new experience. People can cope with new situationsbecause they can understand them in terms of their previous experience, becausethey can re-organize the pieces of information they already have in theirinternal representations. No actual development is taking place:the apparent development of plans and scripts is really only a regroupingof static and predetermined elements of information."

This verylogic has been partially questioned in two new contributions to the problem ofconceptual thinking. These are Susan Carey's (1985) monograph ConceptualChange in Childhood and the paper The Role of Theories inConceptual Coherence by G. I. Murphy and D. L. Medin (1985).

Notsurprisingly, the authors of both contributions take their philosophical stancefrom Nelson Goodman's critique of induction. They point out that any twoentities can be found arbitrarily similar or dissimilar by changing thecriterion of what counts as a relevant attribute. There is always an infinityof features in terms of which two objects may be compared. There is noontologically given, theory-neutral arbiter of projectability. Thus, there isno pure induction. Abstraction and concept formation is always theory-driven.

Accordingly,concepts must be identified by the roles they play in theories (Carey 1985,198). Representations of concepts are best thought of as theoretical knowledgeor, at least, as embedded in knowledge that embodies a theory about the world(Murphy & Medin 1985, 298).

So what is atheory? And how do theories emerge in the first place? Carey (1985, 201) points out thatexplanation is at the core of theories. Explanatory mechanisms distinguishtheories from other types of conceptual structures, such as scripts. Thecognitive psychologists' famous restaurant script tells us what happens and inwhich order when we go to a restaurant. But it does not explain why we pay forour food, for example.

Murphy andMedin also see explanatory relations and causal connections - 'underlyingprinciples' in their choice of words - as the essence of theories. They notethat "one might have a theory that could connect (to some degree) objectsthat seem to share very few features" (Murphy & Medin 1985, 298). Butthey disagree with Carey in that they accept also scripts as theories. Afterall, "scripts may contain an implicit theory of the entailment relationsof mundane events" (Murphy & Medin 1985, 290). Indeed, even therestaurant script contains one kind of an explanation to Carey's 'why'question: we pay because we are expected or asked to do that.

In otherwords, the presence of explanation does not seem to be a sufficient criterionof a theory. What is more important, we'll probably never find a clear andsufficient criterion by following the approach taken by Carey, Murphy andMedin. These authors try to define theory by looking at knowledge and mentalrepresentations as self-sufficient bodies or things stored within the head ofthe individual. They fall prey to the cognitivist or Cartesian fallacy,exhibited by Nelson Goodman, too. Theory is conceived as an entity theindividual 'has'. When a theory emerges or is acquired, it may be stored andbegins to function as a filter or lens, constraining the individual's inductiveprojections. Such a constructivism is mere mental constructivism, worldmakingin the mind only.

Thiscognitivist conception is unable to say anything interesting about how theoriesactually emerge in the first place. Carey (1985, 200) takes recourse to amoderate innatism: "my guess is that the 'initial state' of human childrencan be described by saying that they are innately endowed with two theoreticalsystems: a naive physics and a naive psychology". Murphy and Medin (1985,311) are even more vague: "it is certainly possible that children'sprototheories of the functions, relations, and importance of objects haveeffects quite early" - but "exactly when they do is an empiricalquestion".

In thisrespect, Nelson's contention that event scripts are the initial form ofconceptual representation is much more advanced than the conceptions of Carey,Murphy and Medin. It avoids the dead end of innatism by acknowledging a simplebut powerful idea: in the beginning there was an act.

At one pointin their paper, however, Murphy and Medin step beyond the cognitivistconfines. They take up Bulmer's (1967) anthropological study of the Karam ofNew Guinea who do not consider a cassowary a bird. Bulmer argued that that thisis not merely because the cassowary does not fly, but because of its specialrole as a forest creature and its resulting participation in an antithesis inKaram thought between forest and cultivation. This antithesis is furtherrelated to basic concerns with kinship roles and rights. Myrphy and Medin(1985, 305) correctly note that "apparently, the Karam's theories aboutforest life and cultivation produce different classifications than do ourculture's biological theories".

Thisconclusion implies that theory is no more seen as a self-sufficient entitywithin the individual mind but rather as a social activity system initself. In this view, theories and concepts can only be understood asthe representational, secondary aspect of sensuous, material activity systems.This has nothing to do with the mechanical idea of theories as somehow directcopies of material objects. But theories live and develop only integrallyembedded in activities. Theories may be separated from activities - forgottenand hidden in obscure books, for example - but contrary to Popper's view, thismeans that they are in effect dead or frozen, barren from life and developmentat least temporarily.

VYGOTSKY AND THE PROBLEM OF CONCEPTS

InVygotsky's late work Thinking and Speech, the problem of concepts wascentral. Vygotsky rejected the traditional inductivist notion of concepts. Hepointed out that for the traditional view concept formation is similar toGalton's composite 'family portraits'. These are made by taking pictures ofdifferent members of a family on the same plate, so that the traits common toseveral people stand out vividly while differing individual traits are blurredby the superimposition. For the traditional view, the totality of the commontraits is the concept.

"Onecannot depict the real process of concept formation in a more mistaken way thanthis logified picture. It was found already long ago, and our experiments haveshown in clearly, that concept formation in adolescents never conformsto the logical process which traditional psychology describes."(Wygotski 1977, 160-161; italics in the original.)

Vygotsky citesVogel's and BŸhler's findings according to which children do not start withmere particulars but use general concepts from the beginning. The childacquires the word 'flower' earlier than the names of various particularflowers. Or if it acquires first the name of a particular flower, say 'rose',it uses this word not only for roses but for all flowers. (Wygotski 1977, 162.)

Vygotskyconcludes that concept formation is a two-way movement within a pyramid ofconcepts: from the particular to the general and from the general to theparticular at the same time. This fundamental idea is further elaborated in ananalysis of the relationship of everyday and scientific concepts.

"From thestandpoint of dialectical logic, our everyday concepts are not concepts in theproper sense of the word. They are rather general notions of objects."(Wygotski 1977, 150.)

This importantstatement implies that we have to work out and apply a logic qualitativelydifferent from the traditional formal logic if we are to grasp the nature ofgenuine, scientific concepts. This demand was, however, never met in Vygotsky'sown analysis. As a matter of fact, later in his book he states that "onecan say that the logical side of this question has been fully treated andinvestigated" while the genetic and psychological aspect remains open(Wygotski 1977, 263). Thus, Vygotsky did not work out an alternative logic ofgenuine concepts.

According toVygotsky, scientific concepts work their way downward from the general to theparticulars. Everyday concepts develop the opposite way. As the two meet, theypenetrate and transform each other.

There arethree characteristics which make scientific concepts distinctive. Firstly,scientific concepts are always included in a conceptual system. Secondly,scientific concepts require that the learner is conscious of them;their formation begins with the word, with the definition, and the learner isrequired to work on the concepts themselves. Thirdly, scientific concepts arethus not acquired spontaneously but through instruction.

V. V. Davydovpoints out the weakness of this definition. First of all, even empiricalconcepts possess a system which may take the form of elaborate classificatorydependencies of the 'genus-species' type. Furthermore, such descriptiveconcepts, or 'general notions', are systematically transmitted in schoolinstruction. As a matter of fact, they dominate the subject matter of primaryschool instruction. The two-way movement in a conceptual pyramid is fullypossible within a purely empirical or descriptive structure of concepts.

"Theacquisition which begins with the 'general' verbal definition by no meanscharacterizes the scientific nature of a concept; also arbitrary everydaynotions, empirical general notions can be transmitted this way ininstruction." (Dawydow 1977, 162-163.)

In otherwords, Vygotsky could not solve the problem of the specific contents ofscientific concepts. His definitions remained formal - a little like those putforward by Carey and Murphy & Medin more than 50 years later. SurelyVygotsky was right when he wrote that scientific concepts are systemic - butwhat is the specific quality of their systems? In a like manner, Carey, Murphyand Medin are right in stating that theories contain explanatory mechanisms orprinciples - but what distinguishes a theoretical explanatory mechanism from anempirical one?

DIALECTICAL LOGIC AND CONCEPTS

Within thecultural-historical school, V. V. Davydov was the first psychologist who brokeout of the confines of traditional formal logic in the problem of conceptformation. The importance of this step has not been widely understood, andDavydov's fundamental work has still not been translated into English though itappeared in 1972. The far-reaching instructional implications of Davydov's workhave often met with aggressive resistance and misinterpretation, both in hisown culture and in the west.

But Davydov'sachievement was made possible by certain advances in the philosophy andepistemology of dialectical materialism. The two works that had the strongesteffect of Davydov seem to have been E. V. Il'enkov's (1982 [in Russian 1960])book The Dialectics of the Abstract and the Concrete in Marx's Capitaland the volume Analysis of the Developing Concept writtenjointly by A. S. Arsen'ev, V. S. Bibler and B. M. Kedrov (1967). Asphilosophical works, both books are exceptional in that they are based ondetailed analysis of important developments in the history of science. Theformer investigates the formation of the concept of value in Marx's research inpolitical economy. The latter analyzes the development of central concepts inmechanics and chemistry.

The point ofdeparture in Il'enkov's work is a redefinition of the meaning of 'concrete' and'abstract'. Contrary to the common notions, dialectics does not see 'concrete'as something sensually palpable and 'abstract' as something conceptual ormentally constructed. 'Concrete' is rather the holistic quality of systemicinterconnectedness.

"(...) ifconsciousness has perceived an individual thing as such, without grasping thewhole concrete chain of interconnections within which the thingactually exists, that means it has perceived the thing in an extremely abstractway despite the fact that it has perceived it in direct concrete sensualobservation, in all the fullness of its sensually tangible image.

On thecontrary, when consciousness has perceived a thing in its interconnectionswith all the other, just as individual things, facts, phenomena, if it hasgrasped the individual through its universal interconnections, then it has forthe first time perceived it concretely, even if a notion of it was formed notthrough direct contemplation, touching or smelling but rather through speechfrom other individuals and is consequently devoid of immediately sensualfeatures." (Ilyenkov 1982, 87-88.)

Generalnotions are formal abstractions since they separate arbitrary features ofobjects form their interconnections. Genuine concepts are concrete abstractionssince they reflect and reconstruct the systemic and interconnected nature ofthe objects. This systemic nature is not of the static classificatory'genus-species' type but of a genetic and dynamic type. Il'enkov usesMarx's concept of the proletariat to illustrate this.

"WhenMarx and Engels worked out the concept of the proletariat as the mostrevolutionary class of bourgeois society, as the gravedigger of capitalism, itwas in principle impossible to obtain this concept by considering an abstractlygeneral trait inherent in each separate proletarian and each particular stratumof the proletariat. A formal abstraction which could be made in the mid-19thcentury by comparing all individual representatives of the proletariat, by thekind of abstracting recommended by non-dialectical logic, would havecharacterised the proletariat as the most oppressed passively sufferingpoverty-ridden class capable, at best, only of a desperate hungry rebellion.

This concept[better: general notion; Y.E.] of the proletariat was current in theinnumerable studies of that time, in the philanthropic writings of thecontemporaries of Marx and Engels, and in the works of utopian socialists. Thisabstraction was a precise reflection of the empirically general. But it wasonly Marx and Engels who obtained a theoretical expression ofthese empirical facts (...).

The concept ofthe proletariat, as distinct from the empirical general notion of it, was not aformal abstraction here but a theoretical expression of the objectiveconditions of its development containing a comprehension of its objective roleand of the latter's tendency of development. (É)

The truth ofthis concept was shown, as is well known, by the real transformation of theproletariat from a 'class in itself' into a 'class for itself'. The proletariatdeveloped, in the full sense of the term, towards a correspondence with 'itsown concept' (...)." (Ilyenkov 1982, 130-131.)

In otherwords, the systemic nature of the genuine concept is essentially temporal,historical and developmental. The concept expresses the origin and thedevelopmental tendency of the totality it reconstructs.

"To comprehendaphenomenon means to discover the mode of its origin, the rule according towhich the phenomenon emerges with necessity rooted in the concrete totalityof conditions, it means to analyse the very conditions of the origin ofphenomena. That is the general formula for the formation of a concept (...)."(Ilyenkov 1982, 177.)

Moreover, theconcept "expresses a reality which, while being quite a particularphenomenon among other particular phenomena, is at the same time a genuinelyuniversal element, a 'cell' in all the other particular phenomena"(Ilyenkov 1982, 79). The task of genuine concept formation is thus to find outthe developmental 'germ cell', the initial genetic abstraction, of the totalityunder investigation and to develop it into its full concrete diversity. Hereinlies the kernel of the 'other logic' Vygotsky pleaded for but could neverformulate. "The logical development of categories (...) must coincidewith the historical development of the object (Ilyenkov 1982, 215-216;italics added)." In other words, we are not talking of an eternal andcontent-indifferent logic but of a developmental logic of the object itself.This logic is stored nowhere in the form of ready-made formulas to be imposedupon the object. To the contrary, "the concrete history of a concreteobject should be considered in each particular case rather than history ingeneral" (Ilyenkov 1982, 215).

In dialecticallogic, the concrete is an interconnected systemic whole. But theinterconnections are not of any arbitrary kind. At the core of theinterconnections there are internal contradictions.

"Concretenessis in general identity of opposites, whereas the abstract generalis obtained according to the principle of bare identity, identity withoutcontradiction." (Ilyenkov 1982, 272.)

Contradictionsbecome central if we are to handle movement, development and changeconceptually.

"Anyutterance expressing the very moment, the very act of transition (and not the resultof this transition only) inevitably contains an explicit or implicitcontradiction, and a contradiction 'at one and the same time' (that is, duringtransition, at the moment of transition) and 'in one and the same relation'(precisely with regard to the transition of the opposites into eachother)." (Ilyenkov 1982, 251.)

The struggleand mutual dependency of opposite forces or elements is the developmentaldriving force within objective systems. To create a genuine concept is to graspand fixate this inner contradiction of the object system and to derive thesystem's subsequent developmental manifestations from that initialcontradiction.

"Thedialectical materialist method of resolution of contradictions in theoreticaldefinitions thus consists in tracing the process by which the movement ofreality itself resolves them in a new form of expression. Expressedobjectively, the goal lies in tracing, through analysis of new empiricalmaterials, the emergence of reality in which an earlier establishedcontradiction finds its relative resolution in a new objective form of itsrealisation." (Ilyenkov 1982, 262-263.)

For Arsen'ev,Bibler and Kedrov, a genuine scientific-theoretical concept is always thesimple, initial germ of a whole complex theory. The characteristic of a genuineconcept is its expansive "potency of concretization, tendency ofdeveloping into a theory" (Arsen'ev, Bibler & Kedrov 1967, 15). Ittends to generate a multitude of successive developmental elaborations andconceptual offshoots out of itself. This view is actually opposite tothat of Carey, Murphy and Medin who see concepts as products generated byinitial theories.

But if conceptis the initial form of a theory, how does the concept emerge in the firstplace? Here Arsen'ev, Bibler and Kedrov disagree with Nelson's inductivistview, according to which the initial scripts emerge as mental recollections ofrepeated familiar events. Arsen'ev, Bibler and Kedrov argue that the initialconcepts emerge out of the interplay of two psychic processes constitutive inany practical productive activity: (1) the continuous construction of theanticipated future object (outcome) of the activity through activematerial and mental experimentation, and (2) the equally continuoussensuous or contemplative experiencing and observation of theobject 'as it is'. In other words, the initial concepts are not justreproductions of events as experienced. Already from the very beginning theypossess also the tendency of creating something not yet observed andexperienced.

Arsen'ev,Bibler and Kedrov do not ascribe this potency solely to the concepts developedand used within the historically formed activity called science. "From ourstandpoint, any thinking and any concept is in its potentiality, i.e., in itsessence, scientific-theoretical" (Arsen'ev, Bibler & Kedrov 1967, 14).Thus, so called everyday concepts have in principle the same expansive qualityas the consciously elaborated concepts of science. A similar point is made byIl'enkov.

"Itstands to reason that the universal laws of thought are the same both in thescientific and so-called everyday thinking. But they are easier to discern inscientific thought for the same reason for which the universal laws of thedevelopment of the capitalist formation could be easier established, inmid-19th century, by the analysis of English capitalism rather than Russian orItalian." (Ilyenkov 1982, 100.)

DAVYDOV ANDTHE PROBLEM OF CONCEPTS

Davydovcharacterizes the theoretical concept as follows.

"Thistype of concept functions as a completely specified and concrete means ofconnecting the general and the specific, a means of deducingparticular and specific phenomena from their general basis. Due to this, thedevelopment of an object functions as the content of the theoreticalconcept.

The concept isa procedure of realizing a substantial generalization, a means of transitionfrom the essence to the phenomena. It fixates the conditions and means of suchtransformation, such deduction of the individual from the universal."(Dawydow 1977, 305.)

Genuineconcept formation and conceptual thinking ascends first from the perceptuallyconcrete phenomena to the substantial abstraction, the 'germ cell' whichexpresses the genetically original inner contradiction of the system underscrutiny. It then proceeds to concrete generalization by deducing thevarious particular manifestations from this developmental basis. FollowingHegel and Marx, this procedure is called ascending from the abstract to theconcrete. Davydov points out that outside this process the conceptbecomes "a mere word" (Dawydow 1977, 308).

"To havea concept of an object means that one is able to use the general method of itsconstruction, the knowledge of its origination. This method is aspecific thinking activity of human beings which itself is formed as aderivative of object-oriented action reproducing its object of cognition.

(...)Thus,behind every concept there is a specific hidden object-oriented action (or asystem of such actions), the discovery of which is a special researchtask." (Dawydow 1977, 309.)

Davydovsummarizes the qualities of empirical and theoretical knowledge and thought insix points.

<![if !supportLists]>1.<![endif]>Empirical knowledge is produced by comparingobjects and their representations which makes is possible to discern in themcommon general traits. Theoretical knowledge arises on the basis of an analysisof the role and function of a certain relation of things inside a structured system.

<![if !supportLists]>2.<![endif]>Comparison discerns the formallycommon trait which makes it possible to classify separate objects under acertain formal class irrespective of their being interconnected. By means ofthe analysis, the real, specific relation of things is found whichis the genetic foundation of all other manifestations of the system. Thisrelation functions as the general form or essence of the mentallyreproduced totality.

<![if !supportLists]>3.<![endif]>Empirical knowledge, based on observation,reflects only external traits of objects and relies on perceptualnotions. Theoretical knowledge, based on the transformation ofobjects, reflects their internal relations and interconnections.In the reproduction of an object, theoretical thinking exceeds the limitsof perceptual presentations.

<![if !supportLists]>4.<![endif]>The formally common trait is separatedfrom the particular features of the objects. In theoretical knowledge, the connectionbetween the real general relation and its various manifestations, i.e., theconnection of the general and the specific, is fixated.

<![if !supportLists]>5.<![endif]>The concretization of empirical knowledgeconsists in the gathering of illustrations or examples which belong to aformally derived category. The concretization of theoretical knowledgepresupposes its conversion into a developed theory by deducing andexplaining the specific manifestations from their general foundation.

<![if !supportLists]>6.<![endif]>The necessary means of fixating empiricalknowledge is the word, the term. Theoretical knowledge is primarily expressedin the methods of intellectual activity and subsequently in varioussystems of signs and symbols, especially in artificial and natural languages.The theoretical concept may exist as a method of deducing the specific from thegeneral before it has acquired a terminological formulation. (Dawydow 1977,310-312.)

Davydov'sargumentation suffers here from a dichotomous structure. Empirical thinkingand theoretical thinking are presented as mutually exclusivealternatives. Their mutual dependency and mutual penetration are temporarilyset aside. However, Davydov discusses this problem of complementarity earlierin his book.

"Man'ssensuousness as objective-practical activity is inherently contradictory.Sensation and perception in themselves reflect things as immediately given.But through the practical action which brings things purposefullyinto contact with each other (object and tool), another content 'penetrates'into sensuousness - the mediated and interconnected character of things, theirinner substance. The practical action as sensuous-objective actionunifies in itself contradictory contents - the external and the internal, theimmediately given and the mediated, the specific and the general."(Dawydow 1977, 261-262.)

Later, bothphylogenetically and ontogenetically, these original moments of practical actionare differentiated into separately identifiable fundamental modes of thought,the empirical and the theoretical, or the classificatory and the experimental.Still, neither of these can be conceived of as fully independent of the other.Both modes contain latent forms or seeds of the other. This does not mean thatthey are developmentally on the same level. To the contrary, it is theoreticalthought that contains the instrumentality necessary for expansive development,for the production of the new.

Davydov'scentral point is theoretically compelling. And it leads to practicalconsequences.

"From alogico-psychological point of view, a person's true understanding of a subjectcan be shown by the ability to reproduce and demonstrate to another person theentire process of its origin. In the case of the concept of number, this meansthat a student should be able to demonstrate independently to a teacher, usingappropriate actions upon objects, why it is both possible and necessary to formthis concept. Further, the student should also be able to utilize the numericalproperties of any quantifiable set for any specifiedpurpose. For example, whether or not a child understands the concept of numbercan be shown by the proper execution of tasks like the following:

<![if !supportLists]>1.<![endif]>Require the child to pour into a secondcontainer the same amount of water provided in a first container that differsis form from the second. (The first container is a narrow, graduated cylinder,the second a wide-mouthed glass.) A child who can really isolate the conditionsfor obtaining a number, that is, who really understands its meaning, should usesome intermediate measure, such as a small glass, to determine the amount ofwater the narrow cylinder contains (for example, five small glasses) and thenpour the same number of glasses into the wide-mouthed glass.

<![if !supportLists]>2.<![endif]>Require a child to determine how many largeglasses of water are contained in a series of three large and four smallglasses if a small glass is equal to one half of a large one. Here, the childmust count two small glasses as one large one and obtain the result of five.

<![if !supportLists]>3.<![endif]>Using a single set of blocks, require the childto determine various conditions under which several different numericalattributes would be defined. In this task, the child must construct equalgroups of blocks and then use those groups as a unit of measure to determinedifferent numbers. For instance, if 24 blocks are grouped by twos, then thenumber 12 will be expressed; if grouped by fours, then the number will be six;and so on.

4. Require achild to show how, using a single volume of water in a glass, differentnumerical descriptions of that same volume of water can be expressed. This taskis similar to Task 3 but uses a continuous quantity instead of discreteobjects. Different measures (for example, different sized small glasses) mustbe used to determine several different numbers.

For each ofthese tasks, the child must recognize the multiple relationship that can existbetween a continuous or discrete object (as expressed by its numerical measure)and some part of that object that has been used as the unit of measure. In sodoing, it is of particular importance that the child realize the arbitrarynature of the size of the part (the unit of measure) that is used to determinethe measure of the entire object. When measuring, the child should be able toexchange one unit size for another and thereby determine different measures forthe same object. In this exercise, the child needs a clear understanding of theorigin of numerical measure to generate various concrete numericalrepresentations of the object. Only when a child can carry out thesefundamental steps can one speak of the child's understanding ofnumber as a general mathematical method of expressing quantitativerelationships within and between objects.

(...)Initially, we found that a majority of children enrolled in traditionalprograms could not carry out these tasks. For instance, in the first and fourthtasks they had no idea of how to proceed. In the second task they counted eachglass, large or small, as a separate unit and thus obtained an answer of sevenrather than the correct response of five. In the third task they counted theblocks singly to obtain 24 and were not able to group out any other unit ofcounting." (Davydov 1982, 225-227.)

Although thesechildren were able to use a limited notion of number to deal with day-to-dayand school problems, they really did not exhibit a true mathematicalunderstanding of the number concept. This was due to the teachers' use of'familiar' numbers as the starting point for instruction within the traditionalprogram. On this basis first-grade children quickly proceeded to addition andsubstraction of numbers known to them only on an experiential basis. Davydov citesthe famous mathematician Kolmogorov (1960, 10): "Divorcing mathematicalconcepts from their origins in teaching results in a course with a completeabsence of principles and with defective logic."

MODELS AS INSTRUMENTS OF EXPANSIVETHINKING

Inrecent cognitive psychological research, interest in so called mental modelshas increased notably. Alone in 1983, two major volumes appeared under thetitle Mental Models (Gentner & Stevens 1983; Johnson-Laird1983). In their review, Rouse and Morris (1985, 7) propose the followingdefinition of mental models: they are mechanisms whereby humans are able togenerate descriptions of system purpose and form, explanations of systemfunctioning and observed system states, and predictions of future systemstates. Norman (1983, 7) adds an important point.

"Mentalmodels are naturally evolving models. That is, through interactionwith a target system, people formulate mental models of that system."

Normandistinguishes mental models from conceptual models. The latter are consciouslyinvented by teachers, designers, scientists and engineers. But it remainsunclear whether conceptual models are also mental - or perhaps non-mental. Thedifference seems to be merely one of the degree of consciousness andpresentational rigor.

In many ways,the recent discussion on mental models is a new version of the 'model muddle'prevalent in philosophy during the 1960's. Wartofsky summarizes the muddle asfollows.

"In muchof model-talk, models inhabit a limbo between worlds. On the one hand, they arenot citizens of the blood-and-guts world of real objects and processes; or atbest have only a derived citizenship by way of their reference to such a world.On the other hand, they are denied full equality in the cognitive world of purportedtruths, assigned only the function of instruments of such cognition: crutches,aids to the imagination, inference-machines, heuristic devices, data-orderingframeworks and whatnot." (Wartofsky 1979, 3.)

The problemwith the cognitive psychological notion of mental models is that it is static,dead in a twofold sense.

Firstly,mental models are conceived of as something evolving spontaneously withinindividual heads, on the basis of individual experience. This evolutionconsists of two basic processes (De Kleer & Brown 1983, 156): constructingor envisioning the mental model; and simulating the result of ofthis construction or running the model. However, both theseprocesses are cut off from the construction and use of external, material,socio-cultural models. How these external, objectified models aregenerated and how they interact with individual mental models remains amysterious sphere outside the interest of mainstream cognitive psychology. Thisisolationist mode of inquiry renders the mental models of cognitive psychologymere filters, slowly renewed objects of consumption. Models are deprived oftheir productive and instrumental aspect.

Secondly, inconsequence of the first delimitation, there seem to be no satisfactory ways ofassessing the qualitative level or type of a mental model. A host of differentclassifications and typologies have been offered, but each one of them seems tobe equally arbitrary. The reason is that the classifications and typologieshave no historical basis. As long as the historical steps of thesocietal production of models remain obscure, psychologists are bound to keepinventing their private favorite typologies ad nauseam. They willalso remain incapable of foreseeing and enhancing the necessary future qualitiesof models.

Earlier inthis chapter I noted that expansive thinking demands that the consumptiveobjects of thought are transformed into productive instruments of thought.Representational concepts must be transformed into instrumental concepts. Thistransformation requires a specific type of objectivity-instrumentality. Modelsare specifically simplified and 'purified' reconstructions of theperceptual-concrete object, created for the purpose of gaining unexpectedinformation or working out unforeseen potentialities of the object. Models arean integral moment of experimentation. Being transparent and compact atthe same time, models function both as projections and as means of constructingand realizing the projections (Dawydow 1977, 260-261).

Wartofskysees models much in the same way.For him, a model is not simply the entity we take as amodel but, potentially, rather the mode of action that such anentity itself represents. In this sense, "models are embodiments ofpurpose and, at the same time, instruments for carrying out such purposes"(Wartofsky 1979, 142).

Models are thespecifically theoretical or expansive mode of ideality. The idealexists only in man. But man is tobe understood not as one individual with a brain, but as a real aggregate ofpeople collectively realizing their human life activity, as the aggregate ofsocial relations arising between people around the process of the socialproduction of their life. Only in this sense is the ideal inside man.

"(...)'inside' man thus understood are all the thingsthat 'mediate' the individuals that are socially producing their life: words,books, statues, churches, community centres, television towers and(above all!) the instruments of labour (...).

The ideal formis a form of a thing, but a form that is outside the thing, and is to be foundin man as a form of his dynamic life activity, as goals and needs. Orconversely, it is a form of man's life activity, but outside man, in the formof the thing he creates. 'Ideality' as such exists only in the constantsuccession and replacement of these two forms of its 'external embodiment' anddoes not coincide with either of them taken separately. It exists only throughthe unceasing process of the transformation of the form of activity -into the form of a thing and back - the form of a thing into the form ofactivity (of social man, of course)." (Ilyenkov 1977a, 98.)

I suggest thatmodels as the specifically theoretical type of ideality may be fruitfullyanalyzed from two angles: the functional and the historical.

THE FUNCTIONING OF MODELS INTHEORETICAL THINKING - PRESENTED AND QUESTIONED

Fromthe functional angle, three general steps of model construction and applicationmay be identified. Theoretical thinking starts with the constitution of itsobject. The object of inquiry is delineated with the help of available previousknowledge concerning the problem domain. This constitution of the object oftentakes place in a tacit fashion, without the individual's conscious effort, asan unreflected projection of the social conventions and relations in which theindividual is embedded. However, the object is never just there, withoutconstitutive actions of the subject - without being identified and named. Thisfirst step of object constitution or problem identification may be depicteddiagrammatically as follows (Figure 4.1).

Now this,often tacit or implicit, step does not discriminate between theory constructionand any everyday problem solving. Theoretical thinking differs from other typesof thinking in that it constructs a model of the object, attempting to uncoverand make visible the hidden relations or regularities behind the observablebehavior of the object. This model construction is achieved with the help ofanalogy: "thus, at the heart of a theory are various modelling relationswhich are types of analogy" (HarrŽ 1970, 35).

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Figure 4.1: Object constitution as thefirst step of theoretical thinking

Analogy as aninstrument is closely related to play and imagination. In both, the subject ismaking visible the 'rules of the game' or the hidden relations of the objecttransparent and visible through various forms of practical and mentalexperimentation.

This secondstep of theory construction is a step to the realm of 'secondary processes' inBateson's (1972, 185) terminology, i.e., a step to consciously externalized andobjectified abstractions. This step is diagrammatically depicted in Figure 4.2.

A model is notyet a full-blown theory. The theoretical model may be considered as aninstrument for developing and applying the theory at the same time. The modelinvites and provokes thought experiments and concretizations. As Wartofsky(1979, 142) says, it is "a creation of something working toward thefuture". In this working toward the future, the subject not onlyelaborates the object with the help of the model. He also elaborates the model,modifies it into new, more complex developmental forms and variations. In otherwords, he builds a theory on the basis and with the help of the model. This isthe third step of theory construction proper (Figure 4.3). In this view, atheory is an active, evolving relationship of the model tothe things the model is supposed to

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Figure 4.2: Model construction as thesecond step of theoretical thinking

represent. Inits embodiments, it takes the form of statements, categories, rules andprocedures.

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Figure 4.3: Ascending to the concreteas the third step of theoretical thinking

The stepwiseprocess described above is neat and compact. It corresponds to the manner theprocess of ascending from the abstract to the concrete is often depicted inMarxist literature: as an essentially individual and mental process ofexpansion. However, it is too clean and regular to account for the cognitive-instrumentalaspect of the ruptures involved in the creation of societally new activitystructures.

A glance atFigures 4.1 to 4.3 reveals that thinking is here restricted to a solitary process.Thesubject remains individual. No community is involved. Similarly, the objectremains the same from the beginning to the end. There is nostructural expansion in these corners. Furthermore, theory as the end productof the process consists of new representations of reality; change in thereality itself is not implied.

To summarize,the steps described above depict theoretical thinking as a series onindividually situated mental actions. The process corresponds to that ofLearning IIb, as described above in Chapter 3.

What remainsto be explained is the qualitative transition from series ofindividual, mental actions to a new collective, material activity system. Indiagrammatic terms (Figure 4.4):

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Figure 4.4: Transition from individualactions to collective activity

The generalcyclic model of this expansive transition, or zone of proximal development, hasbeen presented in Figure 3.3 in the preceding chapter. However, we are nowdealing with the specific cognitive instruments needed for theconscious or intuitive mastery of the transition. So far, I have indicated thata new conception of concepts is required. I have also indicated that modelsplay a special role within this new conception of concepts. But in order tocharacterize the cognitive instruments and their functioning more concretely,the successive dominant historical forms of the transition have tobe analyzed. In other words, my functional analysis will necessarily acquire ahistorical dimension. The strict boundary between functional and historicalanalysis must be tendentially overcome.

To enter thiskind of functional-historical analysis, I shall reinterpret B. M. Kedrov's(1966-67; 1972) famous historical account of the discovery of the periodic lawof the elements by D. I. Mendeleev in 1868.

THEDISCOVERY OF THE PERIODIC LAW AS AN INSTANCE OF EXPANSIVE TRANSITION

D.I. Mendeleev discovered the periodic law in 1869. As an extraordinarilyaccurate person, he kept and stored without exception all documents and roughnotes related to his work, even relatively minor and insignificant ones. Fromthe late 1940's, Kedrov has conducted intensive investigations in the D. I.Mendeleev Museum at the University of Leningrad to reconstruct the course ofthe great discovery on the basis of these archive materials.

Mendeleev'sdiscovery can be divided into four periods. Firstly, there was a preparatoryperiod of about 15 years (1854-1869). Secondly, the discovery itself took shapewithin one day, February 17, 1869. Thirdly, the discovery was elaborated andrefined during a period of approximately three years (February 1869 -December 1871). Finally, Mendeleev used the remaining 35 years of his life forthe less intensive and condensed tasks of proving and completing the theory andpushing it through in the scientific community.

The activitysystem under our scrutiny here is that of the 'invisible college' or communityof chemical researchers in the second half of the 19th century. Typically toscience as universal labor, this activity system consisted of extremelydistributed parallel working units. But these were still relatively autonomousand independent of each other.

"Thefirst level, on which the overwhelming majority of chemists of this timestood, amounted to sorting the elements into natural groups ('specific')without relating them in a single unity. The second level involved laying barethe general law relating all of the elements ('general'), hence relating thegroups in which they were already classified." (Kedrov 1966-67, 33.)

The barrierpreventing this expansive breakthrough from the specific to the generallevel consisted of the relative encapsulation of the standard procedure.

"Thegrouping of elements according to their specific features became a traditionand stabilized itself in the consciousness of chemists. It finally becamethe strongest hinderance to the further development of the science (...). Infact, the grouping of elements according to the specific features requires thatonly chemically similar elements are compared and associated with each other,while chemically dissimilar and especially chemically opposite elements are notcompared and definitely not associated with each other.

Contrariwise,the transition to the general level, i.e., the discovery of a general naturallaw covering all elements (...), necessarily requires theassociation of not only similar but importantly also of dissimilarelements." (Kedrov 1972, 88.)

The inductivetradition made it impossible to use the atomic weight, at that time the onlyknown feature common to all elements, as the unifying basis for constructing acomprehensive system of the elements. It would have brought chemicallydissimilar, even polar opposite elements next to each other.

As theknowledge of the elements and their specific natural groups increased andbecame technically easier to obtain (electrolysis, spectroscopy), thedisadvantages resulting of the lack of a general principle for arranging theelements gradually became visible.

"By thesixth decade of the nineteenth century, chemistry had reached such a stage thatchemists ought to have discovered and brought about, by somemeans, a shift from the first level to the second. This was the task placedbefore chemistry by the objective line of development of the scienceitself." (Kedrov 1966-67, 33.)

As a matter offact, at least two other scientists, Newlands in England and De Shancourt inFrance, came very close to the discovery at the same time as Mendeleev. This general need statewithin the activity of chemical research was specifically aggravated in the caseof Mendeleev. At the time of the discovery, he was writing his major textbook Fundamentalsof Chemistry.

"Thefirst part of this work was completed at the end of 1868, its final chaptersbeing devoted to the group of very strong non-metallic haloids (halogens).Directly after the haloids followed the group of very strong metals - alkalinemetals - to which the author allotted the first two chapters of the second partof his work.

It can beassumed that by the middle of February 1869 both chapters were finished, andthe task confronted the author, with all insistence, of deciding which group ofelements should follow the alkaline metals in the book. But to decide this itwas necessary to elucidate which metals adjoined the alkaline closest of all. (...)To answer it, it was necessary to find some general principle according towhich the elements should be arranged in their groups in a definite order(...)." (Kedrov 1966-67, 19.)

Mendeleev'schemical research activity may be characterized with the help of thetriangle model developed in Chapter 2.

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Figure 4.5: The primary contradictionof Mendeleev's chemical research activity

Now thispersonal aggravation of the general need state was not enough. A foreignelement entered the system of research activity and intensified theconflict into a secondary contradiction. Parallel with his research,Mendeleev was passionately involved in co-operative programs of practicalagricultural development. He had planned to carry out an inspection trip tosome dairy artels in central Russia between February 17 and February 28, 1869.However, having just finished the two first chapters mentioned above,Mendeleev's mind was intensely preoccupied with the problem of the continuationof the book. At the same time, the departure for the inspection trip was comingcloser.

"Thanksto these purely accidental coincidences, on the 17th of February, unexpectedlyfor Mendeleev, both lines of his activity during this period came in conflictand crossed: first, writing the Fundamental of Chemistry and,second, his trip to the dairy co-op. Since the trip was agreed upon with theinterested organizations, Mendeleev could not avoid his obligation to go on aspecific day. This circ*mstance strictly limited the time he could set asidefor solving the problem confronting him (...). In other words, Mendeleevachieved the discovery of the periodic law under conditions of the mostsevere Zeitnot (time pressure), which gave rise to a verydistinctive character and path in its development. The general psychologicalsituation of Mendeleev on the day of the discovery can be compared with thesituation of a chess master, caught at the very beginning of a game in Zeitnot,but striving at all costs to achieve a victory in spite of the unfavorableconditions." (Kedrov 1966-67, 20.)

Thus, theforeign element that entered the research activity was a new rule, namelythat of a time limit. This, however, is still an insufficient picture of theconditions of the discovery. Mendeleev actually found quickly a partial,half-intuitive solution to the particular problem concerning the next chapterof his book.

"WhenMendeleev found the answer to the question that had interested him - what groupof metals should be treated after the alkaline metals in the Fundamentalsof Chemistry - he did not regard his work as finished. (...)The concern was now with carrying out to the end the discovery of thelawfulness, already found in the first approximation. (...)

However, themethod initially selected for constructing the table of elements by enteringelements in it successively (one after the other), although it was successfulin the first stage of discovery, turned out to be inapplicable for the wholeset. The point is: while Mendeleev was operating on the well-known elements,all of them, with few exceptions, took their places in the table; even if theirplaces had to be changed subsequently, such failures were few and did notobscure the whole picture of the organization of the elements which at anymoment were included in the table. But when Mendeleev tried by these same meansto find a basis for including in the table the poorly studied elements, thenumber of necessary corrections, transpositions, and deletions became so greatthat it began to interfere with the progress of the discovery. To recopy fromthe beginning in every case the incomplete table (...) was practicallyimpossible. This would have taken so much time that one could not think ofcompleting the whole work in a single day (for he was still to go out to thecooperatives on the following day). The Zeitnot (...) requiredfinding a more convenient method for quickly carrying to completion thedeveloping discovery." (Kedrov 1966-67, 23-24.)

Thissituation, the aggravated contradiction between an emerging idea and thelacking instruments for its formulation and elaboration, was sharpened to apoint where symptoms of a double bind appeared.

"Callingon Mendeleev, it would seem, at just this moment, his friend A. A. Inostrantzevfound Mendeleev in a gloomy, depressed state. According to Inostrantzev,Mendeleev began to speak of what was subsequently the embodiment of theperiodic system of elements. But at this moment the law was still notformulated and the table still not completed. 'It's all formed in my head,'said Mendeleev with bitterness, 'but I can't express it in the table.'

(...)Mendeleev himself (...) wrote in his diary that after a period of enthusiasm hesometimes fell into a sudden slump, or even depression, ending sometimes intears." (Kedrov 1966-67, 24.)

How didMendeleev break the double bind? Here quite an interesting, seeminglyaccidental, analogy functioned asthe springboard.

"Itshould be mentioned that Mendeleev loved to play the game of patience, wherethe thoroughly shuffled cards must then be rearranged according to definiterules, resulting in a definite pattern of disposing them by suit anddenomination. The analogy with the distribution of elements turns out to benearly complete; for at the moment when he considered this problem, twoincomplete tables of elements were already written down on paper, and in themwas already clearly charted a distribution of elements in two dimensions:horizontally, according to their general chemical properties or chemicalsimilarity (which corresponds to arranging the playing cards according tosuit), and vertically, according to the closeness of their atomic weights(which corresponds to arranging the playing cards by denomination)."(Kedrov 1966-67, 24.)

Thespringboard thus consisted of a technique and an image taken from arecreational activity quite remote from research work but thoroughly familiarto the subject. This kind of association may look purely accidental andarbitrary. But that is not the whole truth. Basically the same analogyhad earlier been used in another problem by the famous scientist Gerhardt. Gerhardt drew the parallel betweenarranging cards by suit and denomination, on the one hand, and arrangingorganic substances in hom*ologous and genetic series on the other. Mendeleev counted himself one ofGerhardt's convinced adherents, and of course was acquainted with this earlierapplication.

With the helpof this springboard, Mendeleev constructed his famous 'chemical patience' whichquickly "grew into a general picture of the future system of elements inits completeness" (Kedrov 1966-67, 26). In other words, the new generalmodel of the object of chemical research activity wasformulated.

The course ofthe discovery may now be summarized with the help of a table (Table 4.3)similar to those presented in the cases of Huckleberry Finn (Table3.3) and Seven Brothers (Table 3.4).

Table 4.3graphically reveals the problem peculiar not only to Kedrov's account but tomost descriptions of scientific discoveries. The transition from the singularand specific to the general is followed only half way, to the point of theformulation and modelling of the new law or principle. But this is not yet thetrue level of generality. How does the new general model transform the structureand content of the practical scientific research activity in question? What isthe nature of the tertiary and quaternary contradictions? These questions areleft open, as if they were considered unessential for the understanding ofscientific creativity. In my analysis, these questions should be recognized asall-important.

There is areason for the general omission of these phases from the accounts ofdiscoveries. A 'classical' discovery, such as that of Mendeleev's, is typicallymade by an ingenious craftsman-like individual scientist.Such a discovery, at least its intensive course, actually seems to terminate atthe point where the individual craftsman-scientist publishes his revolutionaryfindings and, metaphorically speaking, hands them over to the scientificcommunity (and indirectly to the society in general) for judgement and eventualapplication. The discontinuous nature of this historical type of transitionmakes it hard to realize the tremendous potential embedded in the emergence of thecreated new through the tertiary contradictions.

Table 4.3

The sequentialstructure of the discovery of the periodic law

__________________________________________________________

CONTRADICTIONPHASECONTENT ACCORDING TOKEDROV

Primary withinNeedstateGenerally: the inductive classificatory

thecomponentstradition vs. the need to master the growing

of the oldactivityamount and complexity of the elements

Individually: the choice of the group of

elements for the next chapter of the book

SecondaryDoublebindThe intruding new rule (time limit) vs.

betweenoldinstruments (inductive classification,

thecomponentsserial one-by-one procedure)

of the oldactivity

Object/motiveThe idea of patience as the springboard

constructionNew object: all elements in a comprehensive

system

New general model: the periodic law,

embodied in the periodic table

TertiaryApplication,?

between theoldgeneralization

and the givennew

activity

QuaternaryActivity2:?

betweenthe newreflection,

activity anditsconsolidation

neighbour

activities

But does itmake any sense to talk about the given new in the case of a greatscientific discovery? Isn't it all created new?

My contentionis that scientific discoveries just like expansive developmental transitions inmore mundane activity systems are to a large extent achievements ofsynthesizing and crystallizing elements that were already 'there'. InMendeleev's case, atomic weights were already known. Surely in this case thegiven new is different from that of the seven brothers, for example.Science as universal labor produces strong generalizations.But the most dynamic and revolutionary aspect of scientific discoveries residesin the unexpected questions and ideas they evoke while being assimilated,argued against, generalized and applied. The psychologist or historian studyingscientific creativity is usually interested in the creative individual. He thuslooses track of the expansive development as soon as the subject of the processis no more just the individual genius but a collective or several collectives.

As Mendeleev'screative process reached its intensive phases, a new rule - thetime limit - entered the lower left corner of the triangle in Figure 4.3. Tofacilitate the solution of the contradiction between the new rule and the oldinstruments, a provisional new instrument, namely thepatience, appeared in the uppermost corner in the function of a springboard.These new prerequisites led to an expansive transition where there was aqualitatively new outcome of Mendeleev's actions: not just newspecific classificatory knowledge about the elements but a totally new generalprinciple for the understanding of their relations - the periodic law. Thisoutcome was transformed into a new kind of general instrument, givingeventually rise to a qualitatively newdevelopmental form of chemical research activity.

Thishistorical type of activity and expansive transition corresponds to theclassical ideal of university research.The ingenious individual scientist and his selfless striving after puretruth seem to be the prime movers behind great discoveries. In modern days, Michael Polanyi (1964)has made this type of transition into the eternal model of all research work.Polanyi's conception of science as activity may be summarized with the help ofFigure 4.4. The noteworthy feature of this model is the lack of internalcontradictions. Pressures toward change are seen as external threats, not asmanifestations of the inner dynamics of research activity.

Drawingdirectly upon Polanyi, Jerome Ravetz (1971, 103; emphasis added)concludes that "in every one of its aspects, scientific inquiry is acraft activity, depending on a body of knowledge which is informaland partly tacit".

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Figure 4.6:Polanyi's conception of science (adapted from Miettinen 1986)

ANOTHER INSTANCE: FROM NUCLEAR FISSION TO MANHATTAN PROJECT

Theahistorical craft position renders Polanyi and Ravetz pitifully helpless whenthey face the fact of the industrialization of science. The tool theyoffer to scientists is heightened moral awareness. Especially in Ravetz's work,there is a striking contradiction between the quite accurate description of theindustrialization of research and the insistence on the eternal craft qualityof scientific work.

"Inrecent years, the vision of 'science' as the pursuit of the Good and the Truehas become seriously clouded, and social and ethical problems have accumulatedfrom all directions. (...) This means, in the first place, the dominance ofcapital-intensive research, and its social consequences in the concentration ofpower in a small section of the community. It also involves theinterpenetration of science and industry, with the loss of boundaries whichenabled different styles of work, with their appropriate codes of behaviour andideals, to coexist. Further, it implies a large size, both in particular unitsand in the aggregate, with the consequent loss of networks of informal,personal contacts binding a community. Finally, it brings into science theinstability and sense of rapid but uncontrolled change, characteristic of theworld of industry and trade in our civilization." (Ravetz 1971, 31.)

Theindustrialization of science means the breakthrough of 'big science' (Price1963; Weinberg 1967), of large-scale research projects and research instituteswith costly equipment and complex organization.

"Thischange is as radical as that which occurred in the productive economy whenindependent artisan producers were displaced by capital-intensive factoryproduction employing hired labour. The social consequences of the IndustrialRevolution were very deep, and those of the present change in science, whilenot comparable in detail, will be equally so. With his loss of independence,the scientist falls into one of three roles: either an employee, working underthe control of a superior; or an individual outworker for investing agencies,existing on a succession of small grants; or he may be a contractor, managing aunit or an establishment which produces research on a large scale by contractwith agencies." (Ravetz 1971, 44.)

If thehistorical type of research work exemplified by Mendeleev's discovery (andidealized by Polanyi and Ravetz) is craft, then this new type maybe called rationalized research. Its primary innercontradiction is that of any wage labor in capitalism.

"Therethen develops a research business, making its profit by the production ofresults in the fulfillment of contracts. The director of such an establishmentis then truly an entrepreneur, who juggles with a portfolio of contracts,prospective, existing, extendable, renewable or convertible, from variousoffices in one or several agencies. In such a research factory, conditions areusually not conductive to the slow, painstaking and self-critical work which isnecessary for the production of really good scientific results. Hence much,most, or even all the work can be shoddy; but the entrepreneur does not operatein the traditional market of independent artisan producers who evaluate work byconsensus. So long as he can keep his contacts happy, or at least believingthat they personally have more to lose by exposing themselves through thecancellation or non-renewal of contracts than by allowing them to continue, hisbusiness will flourish." (Ravetz 1971, 55-56.)

The mostsalient new components of research activity may be listed as follows. (a)Expensive and intricate technological instruments make state,military or industrial financing necessary. (b) The instruments make itpossible to find unexpected practical applications of newly discovered naturallaws and this creates a demand for new kinds of research objects andoutcomes. (c) As a consequence, the community ofresearch is no more the invisible college of free scientists but a largeproject, institute or conglomerate, consisting of researchers andentrepreneurs, often also of state administrators and military officials. (d)This community rapidly reorganizes the subject of research - theingenious individual is replaced by the managers of the project or institute(leaving the individual researcher a more or less anonymous role). (e)The community is subjected to new kinds of rules, notablysecrecy and pressing time limits [recall Mendeleev's Zeitnot: nowit is an institutionalized feature]. (f) The community is also subjected to anew inner division of labor, including above all horizontalcompartmentalization and vertical hierarchization (separation of planning andexecution) within the research organization.

The first andmost famous example of rationalized research work is naturally the ManhattanProject. It involved altogether 150 000 people and cost around 2 billionUS$. The history of the project is documented and analyzed in manypublications. One of the most concrete and detailed among the histories isRobert Jungk's (1956) Heller als Tausend Sonnen: Das Schicksal derAtomforscher. It is based on interviews and letters of an impressivearray of persons who were central in the process which led from the discoveryof nuclear fission to the development and use of atom and hydrogen bombs.I shall briefly go through this process of expansive transition and summarizeit with the help of the means already employed in the preceding case analyses.

Let us firstdepict the late craftwork form of atomic physical research that existed andbloomed during the 1920's and 1930's (Figure 4.5).

It is easy tonotice that the activity of Figure 4.5 represents a late developmental form ofscience as craft. The subject is no more just an individual but a laboratory -though strongly identified and led by a prominent individual. The division oflabor is becoming dominated by an international competition between thelaboratories. And what is most important, the instruments are rapidly becomingmore costly and complex.

Within thisactivity system, the need state was experienced as tremendousuncertainty and excitement. It was caused by the collapse of theworld view of classical physics through a series ofrevolutionary

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Figure 4.7: The primary contradictionof the activity of atomic-physical research at the end of its innocence

discoveriesthat culminated in Einstein's theory of relativity. The Curies, Rutherford andBohr were showing that the indivisible could indeed be divided. Among leadingphysicists, there emerged a growing but still vague awareness that theirresearch was dealing with unprecedented powers, the release of which mighteventually have great societal consequences. Jungk (1956, 16) quotes theGerman physicist and Nobel laureate Walter Nernst, writing in 1921.

"We liveso to speak on an island made of guncotton, for which we thank God have not yetfound the igniting match."

One could saythat the primary internal contradiction of this type of research activity wasthat between the basically individual-autonomous form of scientific work andthe increasingly societal dependencies and consequences of the instruments,objects and outcomes of that work. As Jungk (1956, 12) points out, alreadyWorld War I had actually shattered the basis of the innocent isolation of thelaboratories from the bloody reality of the rest of society. But theextraordinary creative ferment among the family of physicists during the 1920'sand 1930's seemed temporarily to strengthen their autonomy.

The secondarycontradiction and the eventual double bind ensued through a twofold process.Firstly, Chadwick's discovery of the neutron in 1932 and a series of experimentaladvances following it led the researchers to the threshold of splitting theatom. Secondly, at the same time a very different activity system, namelypolitics, intervened in the research activity. The strongest intervention camefrom the Nazis, first as persecution against numerous Jewish scientists, lateras subordination of basic research to military purposes.

"But whatan extraordinary coincidence it was that within twelve months, the neutron wasdiscovered (February 1932), Roosevelt was elected (November 1932), and Hitlerbecame the head of the German government (January 1933)!" (Jungk 1956,61.)

The secondarycontradiction was created, sharpened into a double bind, and solved expansivelyin two waves. The first wave resulted in the discovery of nuclear fission byOtto Hahn late in 1938. The second wave resulted in the launching ofManhattan Project in 1942.

The barrier tobe overcome in the first wave was still 'purely scientific', reminiscent ofMendeleev's barrier.

"(...)according to the prevailing conceptions of physics, only shots of as yetunreachable penetrating power would be able to enter into the core of a heavyatom and split it. (...) The idea that neutrons with a diminishing smallvoltage would succeed in doing what had not been accomplished by heavy shotswas too fantastic to believe." (Jungk 1956, 72-73.)

In Mendeleev'scase, the foreign (and seemingly accidental) element that aggravated theproblem situation into a double bind was the rule of Zeitnot. Inthe case of atomic physics, the foreign element was also a rule - the rule ofNazist racial politics.

The backgroundwas a rivalry between the two leading female scientists in the field, IrneJoliot-Curie of Paris and Lise Meitner of Berlin, the latter having been for yearsthe closest collaborator of Otto Hahn. The barrier characterized above could ineffect be overcome only if the findings and procedures of the two laboratories,Paris and Berlin-Dahlem, were put together. The rivalry made that impossible,to the point that Hahn refused to read Joliot-Curie's scientific publications.But in 1938, the Nazi government was about to arrest Meitner because of herJewish origin. Meitner emigrated from Germany in a hurry. Hahn's new righthand, Strassmann, read Joliot-Curie's new paper and literally forced Hahn toassimilate it by going through it aloud.

"'Thatstruck Hahn like a lightning', his collaborator recollects. 'He did not noteven finish his cigar, left it burning on the desk and ran with me down intothe laboratory.'" (Jungk 1956, 77.)

Hahn nowpursued on the new track of experimentation and discovered the basic mechanismof the splitting of the atom, which he immediately sent for publication onDecember 22, 1938. Hahn's own theoretical generalizations were, however, stillhesitant. Lise Meitner had moved to Sweden where she lived in isolation.She had just invited her young relative, the physicist O. R. Frisch from NielsBohr's laboratory, to spend the Christmas with her. She then received Hahn'sletter that contained the revolutionary findings of the new experiments.Meitner, in her turn, literally forced Frisch to listen to her reflections onthese findings. This conversation and the ensuing ones resulted in a jointarticle by Meitner and Frisch (in the February 1939 issue of Nature )where an adequate theoretical interpretation was made on the basis of Hahn'sexperimental findings. The concept of nuclear fission was born.

In this firstwave, the double bind seems to have been experienced as a hopeless substantialand social falling apart of a most fruitful collaborative research work.Meitner's emigration seriously weakened the Berlin laboratory (whose effortshad been on a wrong track in the decisive point, anyway), and collaborationwith the competing Paris laboratory was unthinkable. In this apparent dead end,the new social constellation (the two novel dyads, Hahn-Strassmannand Meitner-Frisch, in only indirect communication with each other) functionedas a springboard.

In otherwords, it seems that there may be not only instrumental but also socialspringboards, consisting of novel intersubjective formations or recombinations.

Thecontradiction of the second wave was caused by the foreign political andmilitary element (Hitler administration) that had entered the community ofphysicists and, using Hahn's discovery as instrument, now threatened to convertthe object and outcome of the activity into an evil force: atom bomb. In otherwords, the contradiction was formed between the prevailing subject (relativelyautonomous laboratory researchers) and the emerging new community (physicistsembedded in a pool of politicians and military officials). The paradox is thatthe old subject tried to defeat the intruders by inviting other, at leastequally powerful intruders. The attempt was to stop the atom bomb by preparingan atom bomb.

The ensuingdouble bind consists of the well known struggle of Leo Szilard and hiscompanions (beginning in April 1939) to convince the American government of thenecessity to take practical action against the danger of the possiblepreparation of an atom bomb in Hitler's Germany.

"Szilard,Wigner, Teller and Weisskopf had to overcome an internal and external barrierbefore they could contact the American government. As former continentalEuropeans, they had, at the most, meager trust basically in any government, butespecially in military officials. None of them was a native American, and withthe exception of Wigner they had not even stayed long enough in the country tobecome citizens.

While Szilardand his friends were still having headache about how they could get intoconversation with some really influential American official, they received thetrustworthy news that in the Third Reich work was already in progress on the'Uranium problem', with the awareness and support of the administration. Thus,the worst fears of the emigrated atomic scientists seemed to beconfirmed." (Jungk 1956, 89.)

In July 1939,Szilard and Wigner went to meet Einstein - another pacifist - in order toget him to use his authority to wake up the American government. After drivingquite a while looking in vain for Einstein's house, Szilard began to hesitateand suggested that they give up - the whole idea was perhaps a grave mistake.His friend Wigner wanted to continue, and soon a little boy helped them to findthe right house. The conversational contact with Einstein wiped out all doubtfor the moment.

The episodebears the familiar characteristics of a double bind situation. Again, thespringboard was social and conversational. The contradiction was solved throughintensive action: the fatal letter to President Roosevelt was prepared.

What happenedthen is well known. The new military-scientific-industrial activity of nuclearresearch and development was indeed modeled and practically established. Themodelling was initiated in two successive steps. Firstly, in July 1942, RobertJ. Oppenheimer was appointed to head a small group of scientists to sketch thebest theoretical model of the new object, then calledthe 'fastfission bomb'. Secondly, in the autumn of 1942, a group consisting of professorOppenheimer, general Groves, and colonels Nichols and Marshall met in a traincalled Twentieth Century Limited to work out a plan for acentralized 'super laboratory' - the coming community of the newactivity. In fact, the group sitting in the train could itself be conceived ofas a social model or microcosm, a precursorof the community of Los Alamos.

Leaders of thehuge sites of Los Alamos, Oak Ridge and Hanford became the true subjects of theactivity - General Groves much more so than Robert J. Oppenheimer. The work wasdone under the rules of extreme time pressure and secrecy, and the division oflabor was compartmentalized to the utmost.

"They elevatedinvisible walls around each small partial field, so that one department did notknow anymore what the other one was working at. Hardly a dozen of thealtogether 150 000 people who were finally employed by the 'Manhattan Project'could have a view of the whole. In fact, only a very small portion of thepersonnel knew even that they worked at an atom bomb." (Jungk 1956, 122.)

Table 4.4summarizes the sequential structure of the discovery of nuclear fission, andeventually of the atom bomb.

In the phaseof application and generalization, the physicist's struggle against thesubordination of research to destructive purposes, to secrecy andrationalization, has obviously not only been defensive. It has also producedelements of the created new. However, I shall not go further intothe historical development of the inner contradictions of the new activitysystem of rationalized nuclear research. Here, the main point is that ProjectManhattan was not a historical accident but rather a prototype of the comingprojects of rationalized big science.

Table 4.4

The sequentialstructure of the discovery of nuclear fission

__________________________________________________________

CONTRADICTIONPHASECONTENT ACCORDING TOJUNGK

Primary withinNeedstateGenerally: the autonomous form of research vs. its

thecomponentsincreasing societal dependencies and consequences

of the oldactivityIndividually: rivalry between Hahn & Meitner and

Joliot-Curie, resulting in a scientific dead end

SecondaryDouble bindFirst wave: intruding new rule (Nazist racial policy)

betweenvs.old community (Hahn-Meitner group)

thecomponentsSecondwave: new political and military element

of the oldactivity(Hitler administration) intruding into the

community (family of physicists) vs. old object and

outcome (atoms and knowledge of them as such)

Object/motive First wave: newsocio-conversational constellation

construction(Hahn-Strassmann; Meitner-Frisch) as springboard

Second wave: new socio-conversational constellation

(Szilard - Wigner - Einstein) as springboard

New object: the bomb

Newgeneral model: first the theory of the fission

reaction; then model of the optimal bomb and of

the 'super-laboratory'

TertiaryApplication,Traditional autonomous craft research vs.

between theoldgeneralizationrationalized research in the nuclear establishment

and the givennew(pluscreated new actions going beyond both)

activity/motive

QuaternaryActivity2:Rationalized nuclear research and development

betweenthe new

activity and

its neighbour

activities

__________________________________________________________________

The structureof the resulting new activity system is depicted in Figure 4.6. It presents theidealized anatomy of the first major formation of rationalized science. Nodoubt it was still science. World's foremost theoretical physicists, men likeNiels Bohr and Enrico Fermi, worked in Los Alamos. In Figure 4.6, the newactivity system looks harmonious and free of contradictions. This is in facthow it looked in the eyes of its leading subjects at the peak of the creativeenthusiasm, before Germany's surrender and the actual explosion of the firstbombs.

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Figure 4.8: Theidealized structure of the new activity of nuclear arms research anddevelopment

HISTORICAL TYPES OF ACTIVITY AND EXPANSIVE TRANSITION

As ahistorical activity type, rationalized science differs greatly from science ascraft. In science as craft, the individual scientist produces a new generalmodel (a law of nature, a theory) which he 'gives up' into the hands of thescientific community. There is a marked break between the phase of object/motiveconstruction and the phase of application and generalization (see Table 4.3).This break may even take the form of a long standstill: the new discovery isfirst rejected and perhaps only after the death of the individual subject it isfinally applied and generalized.

Inrationalized science, the time factor becomes essential. The new scientificproduct must be quickly put out into the market (whatever that is as asystem of object-activity; recall Figure 2.7).

Furthermore,in rationalized science, the object and outcome of the activity become fixed inadvance. The basic idea is to produce what has been ordered. However,this does not mean that rationalized science is somehow automatically moreconscious of the consequences of that new product, of the transformations itmay bring about in the structure of the scientific activity itself and in itsobject-activity. To the contrary, the compartmentalized and hierarchic divisionof labor effectively prevents the participants - including the leaders - of rationalizedscience from foreseeing and influencing these transformations. Thus, eventhough the transition from individual actions to a qualitatively new form ofactivity may take place rapidly and dramatically, as if in a compressed periodof time, the events proceed to a large extent behind the backs or above theheads of the actors. Robert J. Oppenheimer's personal tragedy testifiesto this in an exemplary manner.

However,within rationalized science, there were from the very beginning certain moreurgent and practically pressing problems.

"Thus,for example the majority of the staff of the Los Alamos computing centre hadfor a long time no idea of the purpose of the complex calculations carried outwith their computing machines. Since they did not know what the aim of theircalculations was, they worked without real interest. Feynman, one of the youngtheoretical physicists, finally accomplished to get the approval to tell thesepeople what was actually supposed to be made in Los Alamos. After that, theoutput of the department increased noticeably and some people even didvoluntarily extra hours." (Jungk 1956, 122.)

This wasclearly breaking the rules of the activity. Jungk reports a further incidentfrom Los Alamos, this time concerning Edward U. Condon, one of the pioneers ofAmerican experimental physics.

"As aconsultant of big industrial companies, Condon had practical experience inproblems of production which the academician Oppenheimer could not have. On thebasis of this very experience, Condon immediately saw that the'compartmentalization' would not work without harmful consequences in LosAlamos. Therefore he worked out a decree of his own, tearing apart theartificially constructed walls between the individual departments. Groves regardedthis as severe disobedience and accomplished to transfer Condon to anotherpost." (Jungk 1956, 129.)

The history ofrationalized science - and rationalized labor in general - is full of similarconflicts, endangering the motivation and productivity of the work. The abovequotations demonstrate how a parallel historical type of activity emerged outof these inner conflicts of rationalized science almost as soon as the formerwas born. This parallel type may be called humanized science.

In humanized research,above all the division of labor is revised. Instead of extremehierarchization and compartmentalization, an organization orsub-organization of relatively autonomous production groups is formed. Aproduction group is given a meaningful, often challenging task which has awholistic character. The group is mainly responsible for the quantity andquality of its total output. Its procedures are not closely supervised fromabove. Therefore, within the group the hierarchy is minimized while cooperationand open communication are supported. Members of the group may be highlyspecialized individuals, but measures are taken to reach and uphold a sharedconsciousness of the total task and overall progress of the work. Subtasks areflexibly combined and redelegated in the process of the project's work.

Also the subjectof the activity changes. In rationalized science, the compartmentalizedindividual researcher may find it very hard to identify himself as a subject ofthe activity. In humanized science, the management strongly strives after thisidentification. Personal commitment of each participant is a key element ofthis type of activity. Thus, the subject acquires two distinct layers: themanagement of the overall activity, and the semi-autonomous group as afunctional unit of that activity.

On the otherhand, the object, the outcome, the instruments and the community of theactivity are in principle not qualitatively different from those ofrationalized science. Even the rules normally change only within thegroup. In the context of the overall activity, secrecy and competition betweengroups often prevails. And the time pressure may become harder than it couldever be in rationalized research.

Humanizedresearch - and humanized work in general - obviously has a double function. Itis a competing, hostile alternative to rationalized research.Simultaneously, it is a balancing or compensating factor, living in a symbiosiswith the rationalized type of research.

In TheSoul of a New Machine, Tracy Kidder (1981) vividly describes theprocess of developing the new computer MV/8000 by a semi-autonomous group ofengineers in Data General. Though not an example from the sphere of basicresearch, the process nicely fulfils the requirements of the humanizedtype of activity characterized above.

Kidder'saccount also demonstrates the fatal barrier common to both rationalized andhumanized research. The group produces the prototype of the qualitatively newmachine (the new model) in record time. But the group, including its leaders,is all but helpless when the process enters the phase of application andgeneralization. The sales and marketing people take over. The group hassuddenly no identity - it disintegrates and vanishes. There is an unavoidablefeeling of loss at the end of the book. Somehow the subjects were onlyfake subjects, unable to foresee even the near future of their own group, notto mention the future transformation of the overall activity of the company.Even though the transition was fast, it was no less beyond human mastery thanthe craft type of transition.

I have nowsketched three broad historical activity types: the crafttype, the rationalized type, and the humanized type.At the same time, these are historical types of expansive transition. Withineach historical activity type, the expansive transition from one form ofactivity to another, more advanced form bears the historical characteristics ofthe given activity type. There may be several successive expansive transitionswithin one and the same historical activity type. But there are alsorevolutionary expansive transitions which lead from one activity type toanother.

In Chapter 2,I have indicated that a fourth historical activity type is currently emerging.In the conceptual context of Chapter 2, I talked about expansive learningactivity or learning by expanding. In the conceptual context of Chapter 3, Italked about expansive Learning III. Such a new type of transition implies anemerging collectively and expansively mastered activitytype.

I feel temptedto use the term 'consciously mastered' or even 'theoretically mastered'. On theother hand, those labels sound foolhardy. It is safer to acknowledge thepotential importance of intuitive forms of collective and expansive mastery,especially since the concept of consciousness is usually restricted toindividual awareness alone. The 'loss of the I' or the 'liberated action' areindeed difficult to include into our common conceptions of consciousness.

Why have I usedso much space for the discussion of science as activity? Because it is universallabor, containing in a relatively pure form the tendency toward thecreation of novel general use values. This tendency is, though mostly indisguised forms, embedded in any human activity system. Science (along withart) makes expansive transitions its own main business, being supposedlyconscious of what it is doing.

But what isthe relationship between the literary examples of Chapter 3 and these examplesfrom the development of science? Firstly, Huckleberry Finn and SevenBrothers both are historically about the craft type of transition.Secondly, in both those stories we are dealing with transitions where the givenand created new is mainly objectified in the changed lifestyle of the subjectsthemselves. In other words, the new models are not easily separable from thesubjects and hence the discontinuity of craft transition remains invisible (itbecomes visible only when we consider it in terms of social and geographicalisolation). In science, the new models are objectified entities that 'livetheir own lives' separate from their creators - hence the visiblediscontinuity. Thirdly, and for this very reason, in science we are morevisibly dealing not only with the transformation of the central researchactivity itself but also with the - nowadays often nearly simultaneous -transformation of the object-activity for which the given research activityprovides with new general instruments.

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Figure 4.9: Four historical types ofactivity and expansive transition

The centralfeatures of the four historical activity types, and of the corresponding typesof expansive transition, are summarized in Figure 4.6.

Thecollectively mastered type of transition in Figure 4.6 refers to a masteryover the entire cycle of expansion depicted in Figure 3.3. After thepresentation of such awesome transitions as the one behind Project Manhattan,it is only reasonable to doubt whether this fourth type of transition will everbe reality.

Jungk (1956,91) quotes Heisenberg saying that in the summer of 1939, twelve leadingphysicists could have prevented the construction of the atom bomb through jointdiscussions. According to Jungk, those twelve men had morally and politicallynot grown up to meet the challenge of the great discovery. "The suspicionwas stronger than the 'family ties' between the atomic scientists." Jungk(1956, 91) further quotes Heisenberg's friend von WeizsŠcker saying that"it was not enough that we were a family, perhaps we ought to have been aninternational brotherhood with powers of disciplinary coercion over itsmembers". In effect, von WeizsŠcker is here ex post facto gropingafter a social model or microcosm that might haveworked as an instrument for mastering and directing the transition in analternative manner.

No doubt thereis a kernel of truth in Heisenberg's statement. Those twelve men could at leasthave influenced the development much more than they actually did. Indeed, thereseems to have been a marked lengthy period of ambivalence and indeterminationbetween Hahn's discovery and the actual commencement of Project Manhattan.

Here, I willnot to try to prove that such unexploited possibilities are a law-like regularingredient of any expansive transition. That can only be demonstrated throughhistorically informed developmental research in concrete activity systems. Mytask here is to work out conceptual instruments for such research. Theseresearch instruments are necessarily also means for the practicalaccomplishment of collectively mastered transitions.

Thus, I willnow systematize the central secondary instruments of expansion found sofar.

SECONDARY INSTRUMENTS SYSTEMATIZED

Inthe preceding analysis, three types of secondary instruments of expansivetransition have been identified. These are springboards, instrumental models,and social models or microcosms.

Springboards

In the casesof Huckleberry Finn, Seven Brothers, Mendeleev's discoveryof the periodic law, and the emergence of the Manhattan Project, the followingexamples of springboards were found (Table 4.5).

Table 4.5

Examples ofspringboards

__________________________________________________________

HuckleberryFinn SevenBrothers Theperiodic law ManhattanProject

Technique oflying Image of makingtar Image andtechnique a) Novel socio-

ofpatienceconversational

constellation: Hahn-

Strassman; Meitner-

Frisch

b) Novel socio-

conversational

constellation: Szilard-

Wigner-Einstein

__________________________________________________________

On the basisof the examples summarized above, I put forward the following definition of thespringboard.

Thespringboard is a facilitative image, technique or socio-conversationalconstellation (or a combination of these) misplaced or transplanted fromsome previous context into a new, expansively transitional activity contextduring an acute conflict of a double bind character. The springboard hastypically only a temporary or situational function in the solutionof the double bind.

Is there anydifference between the concept of the springboard and the concept ofexperience, as advocated by Polanyi and the Dreyfus brothers?

Experience issupposed to be functioning in the form of smooth, tacit and automaticsimilarity recognition. Springboards do not come about smoothly andautomatically. They appear in times of distress, almost as lifebuoys. Little isknown about the psychological mechanism of their appearance, but intense mentalstruggle seems to be a necessary precondition. Moreover, experience is supposedto provide solutions on the basis of earlier similar occasions. Springboardsare not solutions. They are starters or hints toward a path leading to anexpansive solution. In their appearance, their concrete contents often havelittle or nothing to do with the substance of the eventual solution.

Thesedifferences are usually neglected in cognitive theories of metaphoric andanalogical reasoning. Donald Schšn's (1983) work is exceptional in its emphasison context and developmental continuity. He uses the concept of'generative metaphor' which is based on the mechanism of 'seeing-as'. In otherwords, even he restricts his theory to more or less direct relations ofvisual similarity. The cases presented above demonstrate that aspringboard may indeed be a visual image (e.g., the image of making tar). Butit can also be an entirely non-visual, almost motor technique (e.g., thetechnique of lying). And it can be a socio-conversational constellation wherethe verbal interaction is decisive. Thus, the modality of the springboardvaries, and direct similarity relations are an exception rather than the rule.

Models

In the fourcases analyzed in this book, the following general models were found (Table4.6).

Table 4.6

Examples ofgeneral models

__________________________________________________________

HuckleberryFinn SevenBrothers Theperiodic law ManhattanProject

'I'll dowhatever is Civilizedagricultural The periodiclaw, a) The physicaltheory

handy at themoment'lifeembodied inthe ofnuclear fission

periodictableb) The theoreticalmodelof the optimal bomb and

the model of the 'super-

laboratory'

__________________________________________________________

There areobvious qualitative differences in the modality of the models found. For HuckFinn and for the seven brothers, the new general model remained a verbalexpression of external or internal speech (for the concept of inneror private speech, see Zivin 1979). For Mendeleev, the new general model tookthe shape of a written theory, crystallized in graphic form in theperiodic table. For Hahn and Meitner & Frisch, the model wasexpressed in the form of written theory and mathematicalformulae. For Oppenheimer and Groves, the model of the bomb and themodel of the super-laboratory appeared in the form of writtentheory, mathematical formulae and technical drawings.

However, thereis a more important dimension along which the models should be compared. Ishall call it the structural quality or type ofrationality exhibited by the model. This dimension is intimatelyconnected with the conception of causality behind the model.

The mostprimitive models are exemplars or prototypes chosenor made to represent something general within a broader class of things orphenomena. The concept of model within the fashion industry still carries thismeaning: an individual representing the broader class of 'beauty' or 'style'.Such a primitive model is originally spontaneous; it is notconstructed with the help ofconscious analysis but rather throughintuition and habituation. This type of a model implies a magic or animisticconception of causality: things and phenomena are seen as beingdriven by forces or even intentions of their own. Perhaps more importantly,this rationality type seeks explanations in history and in the wholistic natureof universe.

"In placeof a common causal background conditioning the properties and events of nature,'historical' grounds are adduced. (...) This inclination to evolve a concretecausality expresses itself in advanced mythical thought in theconception of an epoch removed from any historical duration. The mythicalperiod is conceived as creative, as containing the forces of genesis governingthe appearance of this world." (Werner 1961, 304-305.)

"Theworld is seen as a visible whole whose parts are of material, thing-likenature. It is interpreted as a unity, but this unity is that of a concretelyrepresented, mytho-sociological organism." (Werner 1961, 312.)

"Thepsyche in a culture innocent of writing knows by a kind of empatheticidentification of knower and known, in which the object of knowledge and thetotal being of the knower enter into a kind of fusion, in a way which literatecultures would typically find unsatisfyingly vague and garbled and somehow toointense and participatory." (Ong 1977, 18.)

Writingentails a world view characterized by closure: fixed definitions andnomenclature, stable order and classification. The static, eternal hierarchiesof the medieval conception of universe are most typical models of this type.These may be called nominalistic and classificatory models.The conception of causality behind them is that of predetermination fromabove. As Koestler (1964, 640) points out, such models are "hierarchic parexcellence but rigid; they resemble stone pyramids in the mental landscape".

Classificatorymodels reached one of their peaks in the work of Peter Ramus (1515-1572) ontextbooks.

"(...)textbooks for virtually all arts subjects (dialectic or logic, rhetoric,grammar, artihmetic, etc.) that proceeded by cold-blooded definitions anddivisions leading to still further definitions and more divisions, until everylast particle of the subject had been dissected and disposed of. A Ramisttextbook on a given subject had no acknowledged interchange with anythingoutside itself. (...) Moreover, the material in each of the Ramist textbookscould be presented in printed dichotomized outlines or charts that showedexactly how the material was organized spatially in itself and in themind." (Ong 1982, 134-135.)

Among my fourcases, the model of the seven brothers exemplifies this classificatory type.The picture of civilized agricultural life in the village is deeply anchored inideals of stable order, harmony and hierarchy.

The emergenceof modern natural science produced a rationality type that gradually surpassedthe nominalistic and classificatory type.

"Thehigher craftsmen of the 16th century, the artists and military engineers werenot only used to experimenting but also to expressing their results inempirical rules and quantitative concepts. The substantial forms and occultqualities of the learned were of little use for them. They seeked usable andif possible quantitative rules of procedure when they were toconstruct levers, machines and guns. In the manuscripts of Leonardo da Vinci(around 1500), such quantitative prodedural rules are given time and again.Normally they are formulated in the manner of cooking recipes: 'If you want toknow', so says Leonardo in the explanation to a drawing of a balance beam, 'howmuch more MB weighs than AM, observe how many times CB goes into AD',etc." (Zilsel 1976, 82; italics added.)

Models of thistype are procedural, whether algorithms or heuristicrules. If nominalistic and classificatory models answer the question'what', these procedural models answer the question 'how'. They no more try tocapture fixed, immovable hierarchies - they are constructed to facilitatepractical achievements. The conception of causality behind this type of modelsis linear and sequential. This rationality typereaches its peak in the design and manufacture of machines.

Among our fourcases, Huckleberry Finn's model is an example of heuristic rules. Typically, ithas the form of a command or recipe: 'after this always do whichevercomes handiest at the time'.

The limits ofprocedural models become visible when something goes wrong, when the object orinstrument no more acts according to the steps prescribed in the algorithm.They also become visible when the situation is novel and there is uncertaintyabout which procedure to select or design. Finally, the limits become visiblewhen the object or instrument becomes so complex that the sheer multitude ofpossible specific rules and procedures becomes overwhelming. In such contexts,general heuristic rules are offered as a solution. However, the more generalthe heuristic, the more empty of content and void of explanatory power itbecomes.

In the 19thcentury, conceptions of holism, systemic interdependency and probabilism gainedmomentum in various branches of science (von Bertalanffy 1968, 45). Thebackground conception is retroactive causality in which "a wholesystem is seen to be involved in a closed retroactive causal relation"(Wartofsky 1968, 306).

"Modernphysics, particularly the physics of elementary particles, cogentlydemonstrates the restricted nature of the causal conception viewed as aunilateral action of one body on another and shows its failure to account formicroprocesses. The idea of cause as an interaction of fields, particles, whichgives rise to various microprocesses is of essential significance insubstantiating the physical ideas of modern quantum field theory.Twentieth-century physics has a marked tendency to combine the causalityprinciple with the systemic-structural approach to phenomena. Essentiallyspeaking, a cause is in the nature of an interaction of the various elements,parts, tendencies of a system that governs the behaviour of that system."(Svechnikov 1971, 241-242.)

Models of thisrationality type are systemic models. If classificatory modelsanswer to what-questions and procedural models to how-questions, systemicmodels aim at answering to questions of why-type. Such models function as aidsfor diagnosing and predicting the behavioral states and changes of complexsystems. They are typically probabilistic in nature (for a recent discussion ofthe social construction of systemic models, see Bloomfield 1986).

Among my fourcases, Mendeleev's model of the periodic system of elements seems to besomething between a classificatory model and a systemic model. It is no more asimple hierarchy. It was constructed through uncovering interdependenciesbetween the whole system and its elements. However, the tabular form of themodel does not directly depict dynamic transitions and movements within thesystem.

On the otherhand, when Oppenheimer, Groves and their staff designed the bomb as acomplex technical device and the super-laboratory of Los Alamos as a complexorganization, they were bound to use systemic models. For one thing, theprobabilistic uncertainty before the first successful test explosion testifiesto that.

The verysuccesses of systems thinking and systems engineering have prompted doubtsabout the final adequacy of the systemic rationality type. The growingawareness of global and universal interdependencies evokes questions like'where are we all going?' and 'how did all this begin?' But the dimension oftime is very restricted in the closed systems view behind most of thecybernetic efforts. Time is seen as a continuum in which the givensystem moves between different behavioral states. But there is noconceptualization for the dynamics of the qualitative development, or expansivetransformation, of the system itself. This is particularly evidentin the pessimistic world models, or 'simulations of doom' (Bloomfield 1986,167), produced by systems analysts since the early 1970's.

"Globalmodeling projects typically begin by looking at the past and using it as abasis for describing the present. Once a model has been developed, it is usedto generate a 'baseline' scenario from the present into the future, assuming nofundamental change." (Richardson 1984, 126.)

In the naturalsciences, this restricted conception of reversible time has been moststrikingly challenged by Ilya Prigogine's notions of irreversible time andself-organization (see Prigogine 1984; Prigogine & Stengers 1985).

Moving alongsomewhat similar lines, David Bohm (1981) tries to reconceptualize causalityusing the notion of 'formative cause'.

"(...) inthe Ancient Greek philosophy, the word form meant, in the first instance, aninner forming activity which is the cause of the growth of things,and of the development and differentiation of their various essential forms.(...) In more modern language, it would be better to describe this as formativecause, to emphasize that what is involved is not a mere form imposedfrom without, but rather an ordered and structured inner movement that isessential to what things are." (Bohm 1981, 12.)

Attempts likethose of Prigogine's and Bohm's indicate the emergence of a new rationalitytype. This rationality type is essentially historical and holistic - featurescommon with the most primitive rationality type described above. But where primitivehistoricism and holism is essentially immediate or spontaneous,the new historicism and holism is highly reflective and mediated bya specific type of models.

NeitherPrigogine nor Bohm elaborate on the question of the instrumental models of thisnew rationality type. As Prigogine acknowledges, there is anothertradition of thought which has struggled with this problem.

"We havedescribed (...) a nature that might be called 'historical' - that is, capableof development and innovation. The idea of a history of nature as an integralpart of materialism was asserted by Marx and, in greater detail, by Engels.Contemporary developments in physics, the discovery of the constructive roleplayed by irreversibility, have thus raised within the natural sciences aquestion that has long been asked by materialists. For them, understandingnature meant understanding it as being capable of producing man and hissocieties." (Prigogine & Stengers 1985, 252-253.)

The lineagefrom Hegel to Marx and Engels, and further to Ilyenkov and Davydov (see thesections 'Dialectical logic and concepts' and 'Davydov and the problem ofconcepts' above) suggests that the models needed here are of the germcell type, expressing the genetically original inner contradiction ofthe system under scrutiny. Such models function not just as devices fordiagnosing the behavioral state of the given closed system but as means fortracing and projecting the genesis and expansive transitions, or'fluctuations,' of an open system.

I suggest thatthe triangle models of activity developed and used in this volume may beconsidered as an attempt at such modelling. Moreover, among my four cases, thetheory of nuclear fission, discovered by Hahn and further formulated by Meitnerand Frisch, is an obvious candidate to represent this type of models. Theproblem with this model is, however, that it was restricted to representing theexpansive and irreversible process of nuclear fission in terms of a naturalphenomenon only, being totally unable to model it as asocio-historical phenomenon. The latter aspect, the socio-historical modellingof nuclear fission, was thus left to men like Groves and Oppenheimer who couldonly produce closed systemic models suited for technical optimization but notfor mastery of the socio-historical process.

I shall nowsummarize what has been said about the five historical types of models (Table4.7).

Table 4.7

Fivehistorical types of models

__________________________________________________________

Type of modelConceptionofcausalityCaseexample

1. SpontanoeusprototypeMagic,animistic-

2.NominalisticandPredetermined fromaboveSeven Brothers

classificatory

3.ProceduralLinear and sequentialHuckleberry Finn

4.SystemicRetroactiveThe periodic table [?]

Project Manhattan

5. GermcellHistorical, formativeNuclear Fusion [?]

In expansivetransitions, voyages through zones of proximal development, generalmodels are primarily needed to envision and project the evolving object andmotive of the new activity. Such models are instrumental in thestrict sense of the word. However, another type of vehicle is also oftenfound to play an important part in expansive transitions. In the analysesof the four cases, I have called these vehicles social models or microcosms.

Microcosms

In my fourcases, the following microcosms were found (Table 4.8).

Table 4.8

Examples ofmicrocosms

__________________________________________________________

HuckleberryFinn SevenBrothers Theperiodic law ManhattanProject

The raft anditsThe farm house of-a) -

peopleImpivaarab) Oppenheimer, Groves

andthe two colonels in

the train

Microcosms areminiatures of the community upon which the new form of activity will be based.They are social test benches of the new activity. It is common to all the threeexamples in Table 4.8 that the microcosm in physically and socially arelatively isolated formation: a raft on the river, a lonely house in thebackwoods, a train cabin. It is also a temporary formation - a vehicle to beabandoned after time is ripe for the decisive step of social and organizationalgeneralization.

On the otherhand, the examples of Table 11 [4.8?] do not cover the emerging collectivelymastered type of expansive transition. Features like the relative isolation maybe radically altered as we enter transitions of that type.

IN SEARCH FOR A TERTIARY INSTRUMENT OF EXPANSION

Ihave now proposed a set of secondary instruments of expansive transition.However, expansive transition in its emerging collectively and expansivelymastered form is to be understood as learning activity. A wholemolar activity can only be mastered with the help of a tertiary instrument(recall Tables 3.1 and 3.2). In other words, it requires an overallmethodology for making and using the secondary instruments described above.

The classicalcandidate for such an instrument is formal logic, or its close relative, the Piagetianformal operations. As has been argued earlier in this chapter, formal logic isnot suitable for mastering processes where irreversible time and qualitativedevelopment are central.

"Formal-operationaladults supposedly live in a hermetically sealed ahistorical universe where lifeis a matter of necessities deriving from the natural, non-manmade laws ofequilibration. Such individuals have no life histories, much as they have nomemories. The elimination of the historical dimension (...) is conductive tothe kind of technological rationality that underlies the most profound problemsof modernized life, including the nuclear threat." (Broughton 1984, 408.)

Feelinguncomfortable with formal operations as the penultimate stage of cognitivedevelopment, a number of researchers are today entertaining the idea that theremust be one or more developmental stages beyond Piaget's stage of formaloperations.

Thevolume Beyond Formal Operations (Commons, Richards & Armon1984) contains a representative collection of papers from this broadapproach. In his vehemently critical closing paper, Broughton (1984)lists nine variations of this approach. He characterizes the theorists behindthese attempts as 'liberal revisionists', trying to 'humanize' the Piagetianformal-logical apparatus. They exhibit little quarrel with the orthodoxy ofPiaget's stage theory and most of them support the reality and significance offormal thought. For them, formal logic applies in one sphere, but in some othersphere or developmental period an alternative or more advanced mode of thoughtappears. The basic Piagetian sequence remains intact. Thus, Broughton argues,the proposed stages beyond formal operations are built on a false foundation.

Broughton'scritique might be interpreted to suggest that no formal-operational type ofthought actually exists. I agree with this conclusion if formaloperations are understood as a universal, in the final analysis biologicallydetermined mode of thought. However, in socio-historical reality formal logicand formal operational thought (in various approximations to the ideal type) nodoubt do exist. In my analysis, formal-operational thought, like any thoughtform, is a man-made artifact, a tertiary instrument of a certain historicalperiod. It exists but it has only a limited life cycle.

Thus, thequestion is not what comes after formal operations in the (ahistoricallyunderstood) ontogenesis but what comes after it socio-historically. Theanalyses presented in this book point to one requirement: the new tertiaryinstrument must facilitate the mastery of expansion in irreversible time.

Among thetheoreticians writing in Beyond Formal Operations, only PatriciaArlin takes up the notion of expansion as a central problem. She pointsout that the hypothetico-deductive model of formal-operational thought requiresthat problems be presented to subjects for solution. Possibilities andhypothesis are constrained by the nature of the problem presented; they areconfined within the given system (Arlin 1984, 262). Arlin suggests that thereare two basic mechanisms operating in post-formal thought: contraction andexpansion. Contractions imply purposeful subordination of the thought to thelimited constraints of the problem. Expansions imply purposeful ascending abovethe confines of the given problem. The expansive form of thought analyzed byArlin is called problem finding. It represents "the abilityto raise general questions from many ill-defined problems" (Arlin 1984,264; see also Getzels & Csikszentmihalyi 1976).

"Theargument for a fifth stage [formal operations being the fourth; Y.E.] isbased on this definition of problem finding and on the observations that'general questions' are uncommon in adolescent thought." (Arlin 1984,265.)

Arlin's notionof expansion thus remains on the individual-psychological andempirical-observational level. It is more a hunch than a concretemethodological instrument.

In fact, therepresentatives of the post-formal approach do not discuss their proposedhigher stages in terms of instruments. Among them, development seems to beconsidered in a rather traditional fashion - as something which can be observedand explained but not touched and mastered. Interventions are curiously absentin Beyond Formal Operations.

Understandablythis stance leaves a vacuum within the field of education. This vacuum iscurrently filled by numerous programs for teaching 'general thinking skills'(for an overview, see Nickerson, Perkins & Smith 1985). The promising word'general' hints at something in the order of tertiary instruments. However, thedominant tenor within this movement is that creative and critical thinking arebe divided into separate skills. Some of these skills are further analyzed intosteps. These stepwise procedures are then taught, either in separate courses orembedded in various school subjects.A typical 'general thinking skill'may look like one of the following three examples:

EXAMPLE 1

<![if !supportLists]>1.<![endif]>Refocusing phase - 2. Awareness phase - 3.Responsibility phase - 4. Goal-setting phase - 5. Task engagement phase - 6.Task completion phase. (Marzano & Arredondo 1986, 21.)

EXAMPLE 2

Rule 1.Identify/state purpose for analysis. - Rule 2. Identify clues or questions toguide your analysis. - Step 1. Separate the 'whole' into its parts. - Step 2.Compare one part to your clues or questions. Record your findings (make alist). Repeat this step for every identified part from Step 1. - Step 3. Drawinference/make generalization to satisfy goal stated in Rule 1. (Jackson 1986,35.)

EXAMPLE 3

<![if !supportLists]>1.<![endif]>Define the situation. - 2. State the goal. - 3.Generate ideas. - 4. Define the new situation. - 5. Prepare a plan. - 6. Takeaction. (Wales, Nardi & Stager 1986, 40.)

These 'generalthinking skills' are actually algorithms or heuristic rules for carrying outcertain commonplace actions which our cultures are used to call ' problemsolving' or 'analysis' or 'decision making'. Compared even with Piaget'selaborate structure of formal operations, the separate 'thinking skills' arespecific and arbitrary. They certainly have little to do with an overallmastery of expansive transitions. From the point of view of people's lifeactivities, the term 'general' is here used perversely, as if life consisted ofheaps or puzzles of discrete pieces that can be put together in a haphazard'and-summative' manner.

Then again,that's how life often does look. The perversion is itself an adequatereflection of the subjective consequences of an alienating division of labor.

FORMAL DIALECTICS AS A CANDIDATE

Beforethe current wave of interest in post-formal operations, Klaus Riegel (1973)proposed that the 'fifth stage' of cognitive development consists of'dialectical operations'. Riegel's conception of dialectics is summarized inhis Foundations of Dialectical Psychology (1979). Parallel to thateffort, the social scientist Ian Mitroff and his colleagues started a researchprogram on what they called 'dialectical inquiring systems' (for an overview,see Mitroff & Mason 1981). Though stemming from different disciplinarytraditions, the epistemological and psychological conceptions of these twostrands of research are essentially similar. The most thorough empiricalinvestigation along these lines so far is presented in Dialectical Thinkingand Adult Development by Michael Basseches (1984). Riegel's characterization ofdialectical thinking goes as follows.

"Eachthing is itself and, at the same time, many other things. For example, anyconcrete object, such as a chair, is itself but, at the same time, is of manydifferent properties. By selecting some and disregarding others, we mightdevelop one or another abstract notion (theory) about the chair. But only whenwe see all of these properties in their complementary dependencies do we reachan appropriate, concrete comprehension. (...) Dialectical thinking (Vernunft)comprehends itself, the world, and each concrete object in its multitude ofcontradictory relations." (Riegel 1979, 39.)

Riegel thentakes up Hegel's (1966) famous discussion of 'master and slave'. He points outthat to consider either one, the master or the slave, separated from the other,would be abstract and non-dialectical.

"Only adescription of both in their mutual relation provides a concrete representationof the totality without covering up one or the other. Such a descriptionrepresents dialectical thought with its intrinsic contradictions." (Riegel1979, 39.)

This soundsreasonable. However, a closer look reveals deep problems.First ofall, Riegel systematically reduces his systems into dyadic formations.The mother-child dyad and the author-reader dyad are among his favoriteexamples.

"Theminimal condition for an analysis that searches not only for answers but alsofor the questions includes two individuals (for example, a mother and herchild), both operating interactively over time and thus growing and developingtogether." (Riegel 1979, 1.)

"The loadfor the reader as well as for the child should neither be too heavy or toolight. Information has to be given at the right moment, in the right amount,and of the right kind. (...) The topic of coordination and synchronization oftwo time sequences is (...) the most central issue in dialectical theory."(Riegel 1979, 8.)

There is noexpansive mediating thirdness here (recall my discussion of Peirceand Popper in Chapter 2). Instead of the creation of new contexts,synchronization within the given context is taken as the central task ofdialectics.

In Riegel'sdialectics, very little attention is paid to the historically formed objectsand instruments of human interactive systems. Dialectics becomes ahistoricalanalysis of relations and interactions.

"But bypresenting these isolated relations, the abstract interaction, as the whole, asthe totality of man-world relationship, the 'dialectical psychologists' reifythe relationships. They replace psychology with systems thinking. (...) Humanbeings as well as things are only exchangeable carriers, only material for thesystem of relations." (GrŸter 1979, 162.)

Riegel'sdialectics is a reflection of societal relations from the viewpoint ofcirculation and exchange only. Within the spheres of circulation and exchangeof the bourgeois society, people and things appear in their abstract relations,mediated and regulated by the invisible substance of exchange value. No newvalues seem to be produced, no material substance seems to be worked upon andgiven form. Symptomatically, Riegel's dialectics knows no dialectics of natureand no dialectics embedded in the objects of man's labor. Charles Tolman (1981)calls it 'the metaphysics of relations'.

Ian Mitroffand his collaborators take a slightly different angle. For them, dialectics isa procedure for exposing, challenging and synthetizing competing positions andinterpretations. As Mitroff and Kilmann (1978, 73) put it, "the purpose ofthe procedure is to make (...) implicit assumptions explicit and line them upside by side with their counterassumptions from the opposing viewpoint".One conclusion from the research is the following:

"The messageis that subjects can be taught to appreciate that on complexissues they are wise to listen to the stories of competing experts, if only forthe reason that this is extremely helpful in better understanding theassumptions which underlie the positions of experts." (Mitroff & Mason1981, 36.)

Here,dialectics is reduced to a form of discourse and debate. It is cut off from anyhistorical analysis of the objects of discourse. The task is to understand andsynthesize competing views, not to grasp and exploit practically the objectivedynamics and expansive contradictions of systems of societal reality.

The book ofBasseches (1984) completes this excursion into the realm of formal dialectics.The author tries to identify 'dialectical schemata' in interviewprotocols of college students and professors. He lists four groups of suchschemata, namely 'motion-oriented schemata,' 'form-oriented schemata,''relationship-oriented schemata,' and 'meta-formal schemata'. But he neverseriously considers the content and history of the topic dealt with in theinterviews (the topic being, for all convenience, the nature of collegeeducation!). Thus, the thought forms and conceptions displayed by thesubjects may be coined 'dialectical' quite independently of their topics. Aconception based on sheer ignorance or misinformation may still be deemed'motion-oriented' or 'relationship-oriented'. Subjects could very well developa specific skill of producing 'dialectical' humbug to please the researcher orto amuse themselves. At theend of his book, Basseches (1984, 366-367) nearly admits this.

"From aphilosophical perspective, perhaps the most striking tension in this book comesfrom the fact that dialectical thinking has been described in a relativelyformalistic, content-free way. (...) an attempt to describe dialecticalthinking formalistically, though potentially useful, is necessarily limited andpotentially distorting."

The presentwave of formal dialectics is actually not novel. Recollecting his student yearsat the Sorbonne, Claude LŽvi-Strauss (1961, 54-55) provides a poignantcharacterization of this form of thought.

"It wasthen that I began to learn how any problem, whether grave or trivial, can beresolved. The method never varies. First you establish the traditional 'twoviews' of the question. You then put forward a commonsense justification of theone, only to refute it by the other. Finally you send them both packing by theuse of a third interpretation, in which both the others are shown to be equallyunsatisfactory. Certain verbal maneuvers enable you, that is, to line up thetraditional 'antithesis' as complementary aspects of a single reality (...).Before long, the exercise becomes the merest verbalizing, reflection givesplace to a kind of superior punning (...)."

Here, one hasa kind of 'thirdness'. But it is an 'and-summative' thirdness, not an expansiveone.

DIALECTICS OF SUBSTANCE

Proponents offormal dialectics justly refer to Hegel as the founder of scientificdialectics. Their interpretations, however, fail to do justice to the qualityof Hegel's thinking. Grasping the essence of Hegel is a necessary prerequisiteof substantive, content-bound dialectics.

It is wellknown that reason, thought, was for Hegel the prime mover and infinite powerthrough which and in which all reality finds its being. But reason or thoughtwas not something purely mental, taking place within theindividual's head and manifesting itself in words only. Hegel demanded thatthought should be investigated in all the forms in which it was realised, aboveall in human actions and activities, in the creation of things and eventsoutside the head of the individual.

On this basis,Hegel correctly saw the logical forms of the individual consciousness as beingobjectively determined by things outside the individual psyche, by the entirespiritual and material culture, collectively created and transformed by people,surrounding the individual and interacting with him from the cradle. Thiscollective process, the intellectual development of humanity, could beobjectively traced in the history of science and technique. According to Hegel,this process also included, as a phase, the act of realising thought in objectactivity, and through activity in the forms of things and events outsideconsciousness. Here Hegel "came very close tomaterialism," as Lenin (1963, 278) noted.

Thought had tobe investigated as collective, co-operative activity where the individualperformed only partial functions. In really taking part in common work, theindividual was subordinating himself to the laws and forms of universalthought, though not conscious of them as such.

For Hegel,dialectics was the form and method of thought that included the process both ofelucidating contradictions and of concretely resolving them on a more profoundlevel of understanding the object. In other words, the contradictions could besolved only in the course of developing science, industry and all the spheresHegel called the 'objective spirit'. The practical outcome of dialecticalthought was not individual adjustment but collective societal development andqualitative change of material human culture.

Hegel'sessential superiority to the modern proponents of formal dialectics lies in twofacts: (1) Hegel pointed out and defended the objectivity oflogical forms of thought, their origination in the universal forms and laws ofdevelopment of human culture - science, technique, and morality; (2) Hegelintroduced practice, the process of activity on sense objects thatalters things in accordance with a concept, into our conception of thought andlogic.

But where didthe universal forms and patterns of logic and thought come from? How diduniversal spirit originate? Inorder to understand Hegel's view, one has to realise that he did not take anyeasy answers from religion. Rather, his conception was an accurate reflectionof the real conditions under the spontaneously developing division of sociallabor, the separation of mental work from physical labor in particular. Underthese conditions, science was transformed into a special profession, above ofand opposed to the majority of human beings, to practical physical labor.

Registeringand reproducing this condition, Hegel counterposed man and his real thought toimpersonal, 'absolute' thought as an eternal force that had actually createdman and the world of man. Logic became an absolute form, in relation to whichthe material world and real human activity were something derivative, secondaryand created. The scientist, the mental worker, appeared as the representativeof the universal thought, approaching and formulating its categories. Thesensuously objective activity of physical labor appeared only as the'prehistory' and 'application' of thought. Logically, the word (or speech)appeared as the primary tool of the externalization and objectification ofthought.

According toEngels, dialectics is "nothing more than the science of the general lawsof the motion and development of nature, human society, and thought"(Engels 1975, 168-169). In other words, dialectical logic is not only thescience of the laws and patterns of thought but also, and above all, thescience of the development of all things, both material and 'spiritual'.

Hegel was alsointerested in the world around him, in human culture and labor. But heconsidered them as derivatives of the universal thought. This rendered himunable to study the different forms of nature and culture in their ownright, independently of the eternal universal spirit. Even so, Hegelnever reduced dialectics to pure 'dialogic interactions' or 'procedures ofdebate,' void of objective contents. Hegel may have seen the relation betweenthought and external material world upside down, but he certainly didn'texclude the world from his eyesight: "thinking is not an activity whichtreats the content as something alien and external; it is not reflection intoself away from the content" (Hegel 1966, 113).

Hegel directeddevastating criticism against abstract formalism.

"If theknowing subject carries round everywhere the one inert abstract form, taking upin external fashion whatever material comes his way, and dipping it into thiselement, then this comes about as near to fulfilling what is wanted - viz. aself-origination of the wealth of detail, and a self-determining distinction ofshapes and forms - as any chance fantasies about the content in question. It israther monochrome formalism, which only arrives at distinction in the matter ithas to deal with, because this is already prepared and well known." (Hegel1966, 78.)

Incontradistinction to formalism, Hegel defined the proper nature of dialectics.

"Theabstract or unreal is not its element and content, but the real, what isself-establishing, has life within itself, existence in its very notion. It isthe process that creates its own moments in its course, and goes through themall; and the whole of this movement constitutes its positive content and itstruth. This movement includes, therefore, within it the negative factor aswell, the element which would be named falsity if it could be considered onefrom which we had to abstract." (Hegel 1966, 105.)

In otherwords, dialectics deals with real substantive contents. Moreover, dialecticsdeals with the movement of objects. This movement is characterized by twoessential features: it is self-movement, not externally caused but internallygenerated (causa sui ), and it is movement in the form of innercontradictions. Dialectical thinking "should sink into and pervade the content,should let it be directed and controlled by its own proper nature, i.e., by theself as its own self, and should observe this process taking place" (Hegel1966, 117).

The process ofdialectical thought is compared with the process of formal understanding.

"Insteadof making its way into the inherent content of the matter in hand, (formal)understanding always takes a survey of the whole, assumes a position above theparticular existence about which it is speaking, i.e., does not see it atall." (Hegel 1966, 112.)

Not reducibleto what was already known, the outcome of dialectical thought emerges as ifthrough an intense adventure or detective story.

"Truescientific knowledge, on the contrary, demands abandonment to the very life ofthe object, or, which means the same thing, claims to have before it the innernecessity controlling the object, and to express this only. Steeping itself inits object, it forgets to take that general survey, which is merely a turningof knowledge away from the content back into itself. Being sunk into thematerial in hand, and following the course that such material takes, trueknowledge returns back into itself, yet not before the content in its fullnessis taken into itself, is reduced to the simplicity of being a determinatecharacteristic, drops to the level of being one aspect of an existing entity,and passes over into its higher truth. By this process the whole as such,surveying its entire content, itself emerges out of the wealth wherein itsprocess of reflection seemed to be lost." (Hegel 1966, 112-113.)

This processunifies the content and the form, the theory and the method.

"Theconcrete shape of the content is resolved by its own inherent process into asimple determinate quality. Thereby it is raised to logical form, and its beingand essence coincide; its concrete existence is merely this process that takesplace, and is eo ipso logical existence. It is therefore needlessto apply a formal scheme to a concrete content in an external fashion; thecontent is in its very nature a transition into a formal shape, which, however,ceases to be formalism of an external kind, because the form is the indwellingprocess of the concrete content itself." (Hegel 1966, 115.)

According toHegel, the truth is the whole. "The whole, however, is merely theessential nature reaching its completeness through the process of its owndevelopment" (Hegel 1966, 81). The whole "comes to the stage to beginwith in its immediacy, in its bare generality. A building is not finished whenits foundation is laid; and just as little is the attainment of a generalnotion of a whole the whole itself" (Hegel 1966, 75). Theoretical thoughthas to find the initial and truly general essence of the complex whole, it hasto reduce the whole to its abstract foundation.

"But theactual realization of this abstract whole is only found when those previousshapes and forms, which are now reduced to ideal moments of the whole, aredeveloped anew again, but developed and shaped with this new medium, and withthe meaning they have thereby acquired." (Hegel 1966, 76.)

Thedialectical method is a method of grasping the essence of the object byreproducing theoretically the logic of its development, of its historical'becoming'. The dialectical method is thus a historical method. But it is alsoa unity of the historical and the logical. The history of the object ispurified of its arbitrary details, it is elevated to the level of logicalsuccession from which the details in their full richness may again be derived,now 'with the meaning they have thereby acquired'.

Earlier inthis chapter, this method was named ascending from the abstract to theconcrete. It offers no shortcuts. With each object, the logic of developmenthas to be found anew, by 'sinking into the material at hand'.

I am searchingfor a tertiary instrument of expansive transitions. Dialectics as it wasconceived of by Hegel and by many of Hegel's materialist followers is hereproblematic in two respects. Firstly, dialectics as a method of thought iscommonly pictured as a solitary endeavour. Secondly, dialectics iscommonly pictured as a method of thought only.

Inmy analysis, dialectics is the logic of expansion. And expansion is essentiallya social and practical process, having to do with collectives of peoplereconstructing their material practice.

SOCIALITY AND EXPANSION: FROM APPRENTICESHIP TO POLYPHONY

Hegel wasaware of the over-individual nature of thought. As noted above, in reallytaking part in common work, the individual was subordinating himself to thelaws and forms of universal thought, though not conscious of them as such. ForHegel, the super-individual nature of thought could not be adequately realisedby human beings made of flesh and blood. The absolute spirit just had to beposited as its subject.

Hegel waswitnessing the dissolution of pre-capitalist social structures, characterizedby collectivism without conscious reflection. Such structures are exemplifiedin medieval systems of apprenticeship. They may still be studied invivo, for example in traditional Japanese forms of performance.

"Japanesetraditional performance forms (...) have been construed so that they can not betaught scientifically and learners can master them only through imitating andrepeating what the teachers do. We sometimes call that way of learning'stealing action'. What a novice of Japanese dancing begins first, for example,is just to imitate the teacher's form of performance. Continuing repeating itfor many years, he finally reaches the point where he knows Japanese dancingand is called a master (...)." (Hiromatsu 1986, 1-2.)

Theperformance is practised in a specific social formation called 'world'. Sumowrestling is a case in point.

"In Sumoworld, there is an established stable system (Heya system), and any wrestler isobliged to get into one of the 'heya' and to live with the teacher and otherwrestlers. The purpose of this stable system is to train young wrestlers intosenior champions while inculcating them with the strict etiquette, diciplineand special values which are the foundations of Sumo's world-apart society.Physically, a stable (heya; literally 'room') is a self-contained unit completewith all living-training facilities. (É)

A stable ismanaged under the absolute control of a single boss (oyakata). All oyakata areex-senior wrestlers and members of the Japanese Sumo Association. Oyakata aregenerally married and live in special quarters with their wives, who are knownby the title of 'okamisan,' the only woman to live in heya. Okamisan plays animportant behind-the-scenes role in the smooth operation of a stable, but theirduties never include cooking or cleaning for the wrestlers. These and all otherhousekeeping chores outside the oyakata's quarters are performed by apprenticesand low-rank wrestlers who receive no pay at all for all their pains and mustin addition serve as tsukebito (servant) for senior wrestlers. (...) In livingin heya with oyakata and other senior wrestlers, young wrestlers not onlypractise Sumo performance bu also learn the whole atmosphere of Sumoworld." (Hiromatsu 1986, 11-13.)

Hiromatsu(1986, 15) concludes that the traditional performance has to be considered notfrom the point of view of a 'spot' but of a 'space' as a whole. This is obviouslycorrect, but the spatial dimension is here inseparably united with the temporalone. History in the form of tacit tradition is present in all actions withinthe the 'world,' and the oyakata is essentially a representative or embodimentof tradition.

Industrialcapitalism is the triumph of individualism. Here, the mature form of learningis obligatory school-going. In the obligatory school, the dominant unit offunctioning is the individual, spatially and temporally discrete task.

"Thebasic pattern is this. Learning is presented (1) in the form of discreteprimary learning tasks (put a peg in a hole, where is the cat, spell dog, howmuch are two and two); (2) tasks are separated out of the flow of events asspecial episodes, with a beginning, an end, and some sort of a marker signaling'this is a special situation'; (3) tasks are carefully calibrated during theyears when the secondary learning pattern is being established to becomfortably within the perceptual-motor and cognitive capabilities of thechild; (4) tasks end at a point of resolution; (5) the point of resolution isso structured that it has two digitally opposed outcomes, 'success' or'failure' (that is, the point of resolution is equivalent to the point at whichthe 'solution' is provided); (6) tasks are all amenable to 'successfulsolution'; (7) such a solution is reached in short period of time (within theattention span or, later, 'motivational span' of the child); (8) the 'solution'is rewarded (the non-reward for 'failure' comes to be perceived as punishment),which reward is clearly differentiated from a secondary minor reward for'trying'; (9) the usual reward in the stage of the establishment of thelearning pattern is praise associated with increased tenderness or lovingness; (10)and this reward is from a figure of major emotional importance to thechild." (Levy 1976, 179-180.)

Levy (1976,183) points out that "the content of the task is trivial, except as it isrelated to greater or lesser success markers". This type of learningis intimately connected with the dominance of narrow specialization (recall'compartmentalization') and of a situational approach to life. The formerrepresents the spatial, the latter the temporal dimension of sociality, both inlearning and in wage labor.

Marx takes upthese two aspects of sociality in a famous short passage on universal labor.

"Incidentally,a distinction should be made between universal labour and co-operative labour.Both kinds play their role in the process of production, both flow one into theother, but both are also differentiated. Universal labour is all scientificlabour, all discovery and all invention. This labour depends partly on theco-operation of the living, and partly on the utilisation of the labours ofthose who have gone before. Co-operative labour, on the other hand, is thedirect co-operation of individuals." (Marx 1971, 104.)

Co-operativelabor, the direct co-operation of individuals, is the spatial dimension ofsociality. But truly universal labor always presupposes also the temporaldimension, indirect 'co-operation' with those who have gone before and thosewho will come later. Above I havesketched these dimensions of sociality in apprenticeship and in school-going.What kind of sociality would correspond to learning by expanding? The most promising elements toward ananswer may be found in the work of the Soviet literary theorist Mikhail Bakhtin(1973; 1982) on the nature of the novel.

As MichaelHolquist (1982, xxvi) notes, "the enormous success of the novel in the19th century has obscured the fact that for most of its history it was amarginal genre, little studied and frequently denounced". Bakhtin comparesthe novel with the epic. According to him, "the epic world knows only asingle and unified world view, obligatory and indubitably true for heroes aswell as for authors and audiences" (Bakhtin 1982, 35). Moreover,"outside his destiny, the epic and tragic hero is nothing; he is,therefore, a function of the plot fate assigns him; he cannot become the heroof another destiny or another plot" (Bakhtin 1982, 36).

There is adeep affinity between the epic as the dominant form of literary consciousnessand the apprenticeship as the dominant form of learning. The 'world' ofapprenticeship corresponds to the 'fate' and the 'plot' of the epic. Asindustrial capitalism and obligatory schooling replace apprenticeship, thenovel replaces the epic.

"Thedestruction of epic distance and the transferral of the image of an individualfrom the distanced plane to the zone of contact with the inconclusive events ofthe present (and consequently of the future) result in a radical re-structuringof the image of the individual in the novel - and consequently in allliterature. Folklore and popular-comic sources for the novel played a huge rolein this process. Its first and essential step was the comic familiarization ofthe image of man. Laughter destroyed epic distance; it began to investigate manfreely and familiarly, to turn him inside out, expose the disparity between hissurface and his center, between his potential and his reality. A dynamicauthenticity was introduced into the image of man, dynamics of inconsistencyand tension between various factors of this image; man ceased to coincide withhimself, and consequently men ceased to be exhausted entirely by the plots thatcontain them." (Bakhtin 1982, 35.)

"It isprecisely the zone of contact with an inconclusive present (and consequentlywith the future) that creates the necessity of this incongruity of man with himself.There always remains in him unrealized potential and unrealized demands. Thefuture exists, and this future ineluctably touches upon the individual, has itsroots in him." (Bakhtin 1982, 37.)

Bakhtinreveals here that capitalist individualism has not only the face of alienation,compartmentalization and situationalism. It has also the face ofcontemporaneity, openendedness and fluidity, of freedom from fixed authoritiesand absolute traditions. It has the potential of "ever questing, ever examiningitself and subjecting its established forms to review" (Bakhtin 1982, 39).

But Bakhtindoes not stop here. His ideas are not restricted to revealing the optimisticaspect of individualism. To the contrary, his main finding is the potential newquality of sociality emerging from amidst individualism. He found this newpotential anticipated in the novel.

"Thenovel can be defined as a diversity of social speech types (sometimes evendiversity of languages) and a diversity of individual voices, artisticallyorganized. The internal stratification of any single national language intosocial dialects, characteristic group behavior, professional jargons, genericlanguages, languages of generations and age groups, tendentious languages,languages of the authorities, of various circles and of passing fashions,languages that serve the specific sociopolitical purposes of the day, even ofthe hour (each day has its own slogan, its own vocabulary, its own emphases) -this internal stratification present in every language at any given moment ofits historical existence is the indispensable prerequisite for the novel as agenre. The novel orchestrates all its themes, the totality of the world ofobjects and ideas depicted and expressed in it, by means of the social diversityof speech types and by the differing individual voices that flourish under suchconditions. Authorial speech, the speeches of narrators, inserted genres, thespeech of characters are merely those fundamental compositional unities withwhose help heteroglossia can enter the novel; each of them permits amultiplicity of social voices and a wide variety of their links andinterrelationships (always more or less dialogized). These distinctive linksand interrelationships between utterances and languages, this movement of thetheme through different languages and speech types, its dispersion into therivulets and droplets of social heteroglossia, its dialogization - this is thebasic distinguishing feature of the stylistics of the novel." (Bakhtin 1982,262-263.)

The newsociality envisioned here is one of heteroglossia and polyphony, orchestratedand organized around a common object. Borrowing from cognitive science, onecould perhaps speak of parallel distributed processing systems. An evolvingactivity system socially based on such parallel distributed modules could beconceived of as a local or global paradigmatic network of groupsand individuals sharing a common object/motive and common instruments.

But how wouldsuch a social structure differ from the classical idea of a community ofscholars, or from an invisible college of related research groups? We getadvice from Bakhtin: "the novel must represent all the social andideological voices of its era, that is, all the era's languages that have any claimof being significant; the novel must be a microcosm of heteroglossia"(Bakhtin 1982, 411). Applied in expansive learning and research, this means: allthe conflicting and complementary voices of the various groups and strata inthe activity system under scrutiny shall be involved and utilized. AsBakhtin shows, this definitely includes the voices and non-academic genres ofthe common people. Thus, instead of the classical argumentation within thesingle academic speech type, we get clashing fireworks of different speechtypes and languages.

The metaphorof parallel distributed systems or paradigmatic networks typically refers tothe spatial dimension of sociality. The temporal dimension, the co-operationwith those who have gone before, is exemplified in Darwin's 'conversation' withHumboldt (see Gruber 1984, 13-14) and in Einstein's 'conversation' with Newton(see Glazman 1972, 209-212). However, these are still examples of dialoguescarried out by great individuals, operating very much within uniform speechtypes. The necessity of heteroglossia alters the nature of this indirectco-operation. Instead of an individual scientist arguing with his predecessorfrom the past, we have a heterogeneous community of parallel distributed unitsconversing with a variety of pasts, ranging from published classical theoriesto practical experiences preserved only in scattered remnants and personalmemories.

THE THIRD INTERMEDIATE BALANCE

Inthis chapter I have argued that learning by expanding (intimately connectedwith the emerging historical type of collectively and expansively masteredactivity) requires its own instruments of theoretical thinking. In generalterms, such expansive thinking requires a new conception of concepts asprocedures for ascending from the abstract to the concrete. Thisis the logical essence of dialectical thinking.

Within thisgeneral instrument, three types of secondary instruments may be discerned: springboards,models, and microcosms. Among models, the historically mostadvanced type is that of germ-cell models, expressing the initialsimple contradictory relation giving rise to the development and transformationof the system in question.

Ascending fromthe abstract to the concrete corresponds to the logic of expansive transitionfrom the individual actions to the qualitatively new collective activity. Thismeans that dialectics as the tertiary instrument of expansive transitions isnot understandable in terms of solitary thought. The specific form of socialityconnected with this instrument is characterized by Bakhtin as heteroglossia ororchestrated polyphony.

The obviousquestion pointing toward the final chapter of this book is: What are the rulesof expansive orchestration? How to create unity in diversity?

THE CYCLE OF CULTURAL-HISTORICAL METHODOLOGY:
VYGOTSKY, SCRIBNER, AND COLE

In herbrilliant paper Vygotsky's Uses of History, Sylvia Scribner (1985)describes the four moments of Vygotsky's methodology as follows.

<![if !supportLists]>1.<![endif]>Vygotsky begins with observations about thebehavior of contemporary, not primitive, adults. His startingpoints were little noticed but everyday cultural forms of behavior. Vygotskycalled these phenomena 'rudimentary forms'. Each reveals the tripartitestructure of cultural forms of behavior consisting of environmental stimulusand response and a human-created symbolic stimulus mediating between the two.Each form reveals the 'key to higher behavior'.

<![if !supportLists]>2.<![endif]>To determine how rudimentary forms change to newforms requires a shift away from observations of everyday contemporary behaviorto the historical transformation of structures. Historical andethnopsychological information permits the reconstruction of the phases throughwhich rudimentary forms pass on the way to becoming higher systems.

<![if !supportLists]>3.<![endif]>The historical sequence can serve as a model foran artificially evoked process of change in children, a process evoked throughexperimental means. The experiments will reveal in 'pure and abstract form' howcultural development proceeds in ontogeny. The experimental-genetic method thusconstitutes the third methodological moment and the source of the richest andmost vital evidence.

<![if !supportLists]>4.<![endif]>Observations about the actual developmentalprogress of contemporary children constitute the fourth moment of theorybuilding. Vygotsky believed that models emerging from experimental studies are,of necessity, schematic and simplified. The experiment fails to inform us abouthow higher systems are actually realized by the child; an experimentallyinduced process never mirrors genetic development as it occurs in life. Nor doexperiments capture the rich variety of child behavior in the many settings inwhich children grow up. Although the experiment models the process, concreteresearch is required to bring the observations made there into harmony withobservations of naturally occurring behavior. Thus, Vygotsky begins with andreturns to observations of behavior in daily life to devise and test models ofthe history of higher systems. (Scribner 1985, 135-137; see also Wertsch1985c, Chapter 2.) Scribner'sreconstruction of Vygotsky's methodology may be summarized with the help ofFigure 5.1.

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Figure 5.1: The four moments ofVygotsky's methodology (adapted after Scribner 1985)

Scribnerherself adds important considerations to Vygotsky's original scheme.

"InVygotsky's theory, (...) history appears as a single unidirectional course ofsociocultural change. It is a world process that informs us of the genesis ofspecifically human forms of behavior and their changing structures andfunctions in the past. (...) for purposes of concrete research, and for theorydevelopment in the present, such a view seems inadequate. Societies andcultural groups participate in world history at different tempos and in differentways. Each has its own past history influencing the nature of current change.(...) Individual societal histories are not independent of the world process,but neither are they reducible to it. To take account of this plurality, theVygotskian framework needs to be expanded to incorporate (...) the history ofindividual societies." (Scribner 1985, 138-139.) Scribner also points out the insufficiency of focusing onchild development alone. She proposes that 'child history' be replaced with'life history' (Scribner 1985, 140).

In a recentpaper, Michael Cole (1986) goes a step further in the elaboration of thecultural-historical methodology. He analyzes the research efforts of the Sovietcultural-historical school and their later counterparts carried out by himselfand his colleagues, especially in the field of cross-cultural psychology. Afterthat, he draws the following conclusion.

"TheSoviet tradition (...) emphasized broad historical changes in the nature ofmind somewhat at the expense of synchronic variability arising from differencesacross concrete activity settings. Empirical research came late in theexperience of the Soviet socio-historical scholars, and that research, when itat last became possible, followed the early tendency to concentrate on majorhistorical shifts in political economic formations in place of detailed studiesof particular activity systems and the functional psychological systems towhich they give rise.

The Americantradition began from an applied-empirical demand to explain synchronic,culturally conditioned differences in quite specific domains of cognition inconnection with equally specific domains of socio-cultural practice. Itgenerated a great deal of research with relatively shallow, ahistorical, andeclectic underpinnings but a strong methodological, interdisciplinary base as awarrant for claims about the factors controlling different levels ofperformance across contexts within cultural groups.

(...) Overall,I see current progress in the development of the socio-historical schoolgrowing out of its cross-cultural research program as a process of combiningthe American emphasis on cultural context and the study of concrete activitysystems with the Soviet emphasis on the mediated structure of higher psychologicalfunctions and the importance of history and political economy." (Cole1986, 19-21.)

Themethodological extensions put forward by Scribner and Cole are fully in linewith the original intentions of Vygotsky, Luria and Leont'ev, intentions whichremained "imperfectly implemented in their research" (Cole 1986, 21).

THE CYCLE OF EXPANSIVE METHODOLOGY

It isinstructive to compare Vygotsky's methodological moments with the cycle ofexpansive transition put forward in Chapter 3. For this purpose, the cycle isonce again depicted in Figure 5.2.

In Vygotsky'smethodological cycle, the final object of investigation is the higherfunctional system or the higher form of behavior in its ontogeneticdevelopment. General cultural history as well as the history of particularsocieties and activity settings serve as sources of hypothesis forunderstanding and reconstructing ontogenesis. Ontogenesis, in turn, isbasically understood in terms of interiorization. The general direction ofinvestigation goes from the socio-culturally given to the individuallyacquired and interiorized. The papers of Scribner andCole are consistent with this basic direction.

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Figure 5.2: The cycle of expansivetransition

Whatis left unexplained is how thesocio-culturally mediated forms of behavior, or the activity settings, or evensocieties, are generated or created in the first place. The fourth moment inVygotsky's cycle provides for variation but not for creation.

The cycle ofexpansive transition addresses this very question. It traces the generation ofsocio-culturally new activity systems by collectives of concrete human beings.Here, individually manifested doubt, hesitation and disturbance is the startingpoint. The direction is from the individual to the societal. However,the individual point of departure is itself understandable only as acultural-historical product.

Obviously bothcycles tell their own aspect of reality, or better, their own aspect of thecyclic movement of history. History is both interiorization and expansion. Aswas shown in Chapter 2, in connection with The Psychology of Art, theaspect of expansive transition was not foreign to Vygotsky. But it remainedunintegrated into his general methodology. In Leont'ev's work, expansionappears as the phenomenon of actions growing into activities. But again, thisremains a sidetrack.

Though thegeneral directions of the two cycles are opposite, their inner structures areremarkably similar in terms of steps of concrete research. This similaritybecomes even more visible when the cycle of expansive transition is transformedinto a cycle of developmental research (Figure 5.3).

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Figure 5.3 The methodological cycle ofexpansive developmental research

In thefollowing, each step of the methodological cycle depicted in Figure 5.3 shallbe briefly elaborated. It will be a methodological sketch or outline, not acomprehensive presentation of expansive research methodology. The latter canonly be made in connection with and saturated by concrete empirical research.That remains a task for the future.

PHENOMENOLOGY AND DELINEATION OF THE ACTIVITY SYSTEM

The first stepof expansive developmental research consists of (a) gaining a preliminary phenomenologicalinsight into the nature of its discourse and problems as experienced bythose involved in the activity and (b) of delineating the activitysystem under investigation.

As to (a), theresearcher's task is to get a grasp of the need state and primary contradictionbeneath the surface of the problems, doubts and uncertainties experienced amongthe participants of the activity. This may be accomplished throughcomprehensive reading of the internal and public discussion concerning theactivity, through participant on-site observations, discussions with peopleinvolved in the activity or having expertise about it, and the like.

As to (b),expansive research is not dealing with activities 'in general' but with realactivities realised by identifiable persons in identifiable locations.Delineation is this very act of identifying the personal and geographical locusand limits of the activity. The reason for putting delineation afterphenomenology is obvious. Often the locus and limits of activity can beproperly defined only after a relatively extensive 'dwelling' in it.

ANALYSIS OF ACTIVITY

The secondstep consists of rigorous analyses of the activity system. These analyses maybe divided into three (see Holzkamp 1983): (a) the object-historicalanalysis, (b) the theory-historical analysis, and (c) the actual-empiricalanalysis.

(a) Theobject-historical analysis implies identifying and analyzing the successivedevelopmental phases of the activity system. However, it aims not only atperiodization but especially at uncovering the secondary contradictions givingrise to the transitions from one developmental phase to another. The analysisis carried out with the help of the general models of activity (presented inFigures 2.6 and 2.7), as well as with the help of techniques for describing thesequential structure of transitions (such as used above in the four cases).

As Leont'evstressed, the identity of any activity is primarily determined by its object.Thus, the analysis takes as its point of departure the qualitativetransformations of the object, itself understood as an activity system.However, the system of object-activity cannot be regarded as external to thecentral activity, to be only 'connected' with it. To the contrary, the objectis to be analyzed above all as an integral component of the central activitywhile simultaneously acknowledging it as a relatively independent activitysystem of its own. This procedure, moving 'from within' the central activityout to the object-activity and back into the central activity, is essential ifthe researcher is to preserve his grasp of the self-movement, theself-organizational dynamics of the activity under investigation. In otherwords, the object-historical analysis cannot be reduced to the self-containedobject. The object becomes an object (Gegenstand) only as acomponent of the developing central activity.

(b) Thetheory-historical analysis is motivated by the fact that an activity system inany of its developmental phases utilizes a set of shared secondary artifacts,that is, concepts and models. These cultural artifacts are embodied indifferent modalities (i.e., handbooks, working instructions, fixed proceduresfor classification and diagnosis, etc.), but all they are in principle publicknowledge and function as general conceptual instruments of the practicalactivity. The degree to which these conceptual instruments are acknowledged astheoretical or theory-based is immaterial here. What is essential is that theyare partly constructed within the central activity, partly imported into itfrom without. The latter aspect requires a special analysis of the developmentof the theories introduced into the central activity and eventually of theinstrument-producing activities behind those theories. Here again, though adescriptive periodization may be the necessary beginning, the main aim of theanalysis is to identify and trace the formation of the secondary contradictionsinitiated by or connected to the secondary instruments of the successivedevelopmental periods.

<![if !supportLists]>(c)<![endif]>Publicly available objectified instruments arepowerful constraints, but, being generalizations, they are always interpretableand applicable in multiple ways, for a multitude of purposes. Therefore,object-historical and theory-historical analysis are not enough. They need tobe complemented by actual-empirical analysis of the internalized and inventedmodels professed and actually used or upheld by the participants of theactivity.

Three tenetsmay be put forward for the actual-empirical analysis. First, the modelsactually applied in the activity should if possible be analyzed on all thethree levels of activity/motive, action/goal and operation/conditions (recallTables 3.1 and 3.2). Second, the models should be analyzed asdeclarative conceptions, as procedural performances, as social discourses orinteractions, as communicational networks, and as organizational structures. Third,the models should be evaluated with the help of the results of the historicalanalyses ([a] and [b] above) and with the help of the five general historicaltypes of models presented earlier in this chapter (prototypes, classificatorymodels, procedural models, systemic models, germ cell models).

One essentialoutcome and instrument of the three complementary types of analyses presentedabove is the definition of the object-unit of the givendevelopmental phase of the activity under investigation. By object-unit I meanthe typical slice or chunk of the object handled and molded by the subject at atime. Such a unit enables us to follow the 'life-span' of the object from rawmaterial to finished product. Being handled directly or indirectly by allcompartments and hierarchical levels within the community of the activity, italso enables us to study in a compact form the breaches and links betweenindividual actions and the overall activity. Once identified, the object-unitthus provides a strategic lens or magnifying glass through which the innermovement of the activity system becomes visible.

Anotheroutcome of the analyses is a hypothetic picture of the next, more advanceddevelopmental form of the activity system. Such a provisional model, however,is not yet a sufficient general instrument for accomplishing the expansivetransition. Rather, it is a necessarily sketchy general device for quiding theprocess further.

The ultimateaim of the analysis is not just to reveal the inner contradictions anddevelopmental logic of the activity to the researcher. The aim is to make theparticipants, the potential subjects of the activity, themselves face thesecondary contradiction. In other words, the analysis functions as the midwifefor bringing about the double bind, or at least an anticipatory grasp ofthe double bind in the form of an intense conceptual conflict. This canbe achieved by letting the participants reconstruct the analysis through theirown actions. Such a reconstruction typically takes place on the basis ofselected and condensed materials as well as tasks involving debate between theparticipants. Much like in the case of Seven Brothers, the emergenceand aggravation of the double bind may occur in several successive steps, eachbeing at first only partially or temporarily resolved.

FORMATION OF NEW INSTRUMENTS

The third mainstep is easily recognized as the most dramatic one in the expansive methodology.The participants of the activity system under investigation are pushed intoformulating qualitatively new models as genuine keys for resolving thedouble bind. As was shown earlier in this chapter, this step consists of threemain elements: (a) finding a springboard, (b) formulating the generalinstrumental model and its derivative models, and (c) constructing a microcosmfor taking over the responsibility of elaborating further the instrumentalmodels and turning them into new forms of practice.

(a) How is aspringboard found? Is it an intuitive event that cannot be purposefullyfacilitated and directed? I shalluse the work of G. S. Altshuller (1984) on 'creativity as an exact science' toformulate an alternative conception. For Altshuller, the crucial problemof technical inventions is how to overcome the object-indifferent search,typical to the various methods of brainstorming, syncetics, etc.

"Forinstance, the focal object method consists in transposing features of a fewobjects chosen at random to an object needing improvement as a result of whichone can come up with unusual combinations and overcome psychological inertia.Thus if a 'tiger' is taken as an accidental object and 'pencil' as the (focal)object to be improved, then one obtains a combination such as 'striped pencil',rapacious pencil', 'fanged pencil'. By examining these combinations anddeveloping them one can sometimes come up with original ideas."(Altshuller 1984, 13.)

Needless tosay, such an object-indifferent method may require thousands of chancecombinations before it 'hits the jackpot'. Altshuller characterizes suchmethods with the help of metaphor. "Imagine that we are studying theactions of a helmsman aboard ship on a meandering river. We want to know nothingabout the river itself but only try to explain the actions of the helmsman inpurely psychological terms." (Altshuller 1984, 8.)

Altshuller'sown solution is that creative solutions require specific, object-typicalnotational systems with the help of which one can represent,analyze and elaborate the problem. On the basis of painstaking analysis ofthousands of patents and historical inventions, Altshuller has developed acomplex apparatus of complementary notational systems for technical problems.First of all, he emphasizes that technical problems have to be transformed intotechnical contradictions and further into physical contradictions. "Inphysical contradictions [PC] the conflict of demands is intensified to themaximum. Therefore at first glance the PC seems absurd, inadmissible bydefinition." (Altshuller 1984, 29.)

To representthe problem, Altshuller applies what he calls 'S-Field Analysis'. "In anyinventive problem there is an object (...). This object cannot realise therequired action on its own but has to interact with its environment or withanother object. In so doing any change is accompanied by the discharge,absorption or conversion of energy. The two substances and a field can becompletely dissimilar, but they are necessary and suficient for the formationof a minimal technical system which has been given the name S-Field (fromSubstance and Field)." (Altshuller 1984, 52.) There is an elaboratenotational system for constructing simple graphic S-Field representations outof complex problems. "There are rules which permit one to build an exactmodel of the problem. Thus, into a pair of conflicting elements it is necessaryto introduce the artefact. (...) If one does not include the artefact in theconflicting pair, the model of the problem breaks down and we are back tosquare one." (Altshuller 1984, 79; recall the problem of thirdness.)

There is stilla more specific system of notation, namely the Method of Little Men, asAltshuller calls it. This is a related to the use of empathy by the inventor'becoming the object,' looking for a solution from the position and viewpointof the object. This method has disadvantages. "In identifying himself witha particular machine (or a part of it) and examining possible alterations toit, the inventor involuntarily selects those which are acceptable to man andrejects any which are unacceptable to the human organism, such as dissecting,splintering, dissolving in acid, etc. The indivisibility of the human organismprevents one from successfully employing empathy in solving many problems(...)." (Altshuller 1984, 108.) Representing and modelling parts of theobject graphically in the form of groups of little men preserves the power ofempathy without its inherent shortcomings.

Altshuller'snotational systems are actually constructed languages for gaining a liberating holisticbut at the same time analytic view of the overall structure anddynamics of the contradictory situation. In the four cases analyzed in thisbook, the springboard was invented as if out of lucky accidents because thelanguage in which it was potentially embedded remained invisible andunrecognized. Expansive research and intervention proceeds the opposite way.The participants are provided with a language (or several complementarylanguages) for working out the springboard. These languages are not arbitrary.Their power depends on their ability to penetrate and organize the object.Thus, they are constructed on the basis of the object-historical,theory-historical and actual-empirical analyses.

(b) Inexpansive research, the transition from a provided language to a springboardand over to a new general model is seldom clearcut and uni-directional.Moreover, it would be fallacious to expect and demand that each step andsub-step is taken by the participants as if through their own discovery.Certainly it is important to let the participants proceed through tasks ofproblem solving and problem finding, so that the new general model is notacquired only mechanically and superficially at the outset. But no matter howcleverly such tasks are designed, the new model represents the givennew and thus includes the aspect of guided or even imposedacquisition.

This aspect isrelated to the fact that the springboard - as a personal experience ofrevelation - does not necessarily appear before the formulation of thenew general model. To many an individual participant in a process of expansivetransition, the gist of the transition may be personally experienced, acquire apersonal sense in Leont'ev's terminology, only in a postponedfashion, as the new general model is studied in an objectified form or evenapplied in practice. This is the meaning of the double-headed arrows in Figures5.2 and 5.3. They imply the possibility of 'returning,' for example to the stepof finding a personal springboard when the overall transition has reached thestep of model formulation or application.

Such apostponement in itself is not necessarily a danger to be avoided. This impliesthat the formation of new instruments, though outwardly the most dramatic stepof the transition, is in fact not the decisive step from the pointof view of the solution of the contradictions. In this phase, there isgenerally much enthusiasm among the participants: keys are being found. But theawareness of obstacles, uncertainty and struggle is heightened in the phases ofanalysis and application.

Above Ipointed out that the analysis of the activity produces a sketchy hypotheticmodel of the next, more advanced developmental form of the activity system. Tomake this sketchy hypothesis a real general instrument of expansion it isnecessary to elaborate the strategic component(s) of theactivity system (strategic 'corners' of the triangle) into novel models. Mosttypically, the strategic component is the object of the activity.

For example,in order to find an expansive solution to the mounting contradictions of thework activity of general practitioners of family physicians (recall the examplein Chapter 2), it may be necessary to create a new model of the object of theirwork. Traditionally the object is conceived of as 'a sickness' or as 'apatient,' understood as an individual with certain symptoms and illnesses to becured. Today, the symptoms have become increasingly complex and subtle,including psychic and social factors intertwined and not reducible to theclassified biomedical illnesses. A reconceptualization of the object mayrequire a model of the patient as situated in his/her life activity,embedded in a model for conducting 'community diagnosis' (see e.g. Haglund1983). Such models would be general instruments with which the practitionerscould reorganize their diagnostic procedures.

On the otherhand, the strategic component may also be the instrument of theactivity. This is typically the case when the research is dealing with anactivity faced with the incorporation and implementation of a major new complextechnology. Toikka's (1986) analysis of the implementation of a FMS (FlexibleManufacturing System) in a machine engineering factory is a case in point. Onthe basis of collective modeling of the historical development and innercontradictions of the production process in question (germ-cell models),systemic models for planning and mastering the implementation were worked outwith the workers.

"Thesystem model of FMS consists of two main parts: on the one hand of the processmodel (layout + material flow), on the other hand of the controlsystem model (units and hierarchy of control functions as a graphicalmodel). Actually the system model is a paper simulator with which we analysedthe process and control events needed for manufacturing a certain gear. On thebasis of the system model it was possible to develop concrete models forspecial problem situations. So far we have developed the procedures for both achange of batch and restarting after breakdown in the turning cell."(Toikka 1986, 4.)

An acquisitionprocess based on historical insight and leading to real application is far frommechanic and unidirectional.

"(...)the final models produced in working groups and plenary discussionsincreasingly often exceed the quality of the model solutions made by theresearchers. This also means that the collective modelling process is avaluable method of obtaining new information about the system. An interestingthing, too, is that there is no qualitative difference between the results ofthe worker and management groups. (...) The training increasingly includeselements of planning. The more concrete the analysis of the system has become,the more open questions have entered the discussion. For instance, whilesimulating the operations required in the breakdown situation of the turningcell, the workers found out a more elegant and simple procedure for restartingthe cell than that planned by the designer of the central control system."(Toikka 1986, 4.)

<![if !supportLists]>(c)<![endif]>For the formation of microcosms, thedevelopmental nature of intersubjectivity is of essential importance. Fichtner(1984) has suggested a developmental sequence of three basic forms ofintersubjectivity.

The first andmost rudimentary form of intersubjectivity is called coordination.Individuals are gathered together to act upon a common object, but theirindividual actions are only externally related to each other. They still act asif separate individuals, each according to his individual task. Interaction isnot reflected upon, it occurs mainly in the form of spontaneous reactions andattachments.

The second,intermediate form is that of cooperation. "Each individual has torelate an over-individual task to the individual aim of the action and he hasto maintain the relationship. With regard to the common task, he has to balanceboth actions and action results of his partner with his own actions and theirresults. In addition to this, he must influence actions and results of hispartner if necessary, again with regard to the common task." (Fichtner1984, 217.) There are conscious, goal-directed sequences of interaction, aimingat successful joint completion of given tasks or successful joint solution ofgiven problems.

The third formof intersubjectivity is called reflective communication. Theliving knowledge of personal subjects here develops in spoken and othersymbolic processes. It becomes concrete as collective reflectiveness, orcollective subjectivity. "The collective subject manifests itself and thelaws of its functioning not so much through the inner structures of theindividual's consciousness as through external practical activity involvingobjects and through collective cognitive activity with systems of objectifiedknowledge" (Lektorsky 1984, 241). In this most advanced form ofintersubjectivity, the interaction system as a whole, in its spatial andtemporal-historical dimensions, becomes the focus of reflection andself-regulation.

Fichtner'sthree forms of intersubjectivity correspond to the three levels of operation,action and activity, as presented in Tables 3.1 and 3.2. In Fichtner'sargument, the developmental forms of intersubjectivity are not regarded asontogenetic stages but as phases of any cycle of genuine learning activity.This corresponds very well to the idea of expansive cycles. Each expansivetransition is a transition from the individual to the collective, or from coordinationto reflective communication.

A microcosm isa social test bench and a spearhead of the coming culturally more advanced formof the activity system. The conscious formation of a microcosm as a substep ofexpansive research corresponds to the formation of a vehicle for transitionfrom cooperation to reflective communication. In other words, themicrocosm is supposed to reach within itself and propagate outwards reflectivecommunication while at the same time expanding and therefore eventually dissolvinginto the whole community of the activity.

PRACTICAL APPLICATION OF NEW INSTRUMENTS

The newinstruments can only be implemented in selected strategic tasks. Suchtasks represent the points of probable breakthroughs into the qualitativelymore advanced form of practice. In carrying out these tasks with the help ofthe new instruments, the participants of the activity system face intenseconflicts between the old and the given new ways of doing and thinking - thetertiary contradiction.

These conflictstake various forms. They may be struggles between the old rules and the newinstruments, or between the old division of labor and the new communicationemerging in the microcosm. They may also be clashes between the traditional andthe novel instruments, often experienced as fear, resistance, stress and otherintense psychic conflicts within individuals and collectives.

The task ofresearch is not only to register and support this drama. The most demandingtask is to trace and analyze the solutions to the conflictsproduced by the participants in their daily actions. The created new residesin such practical solutions. The practical solutions that represent theunexpected, the unrecognizable, are actually initial forms of newtheories. Most likely they are uneasily incorporated into the givennew, somehow rebelling against it but still indispensable for it as its mostdynamic ingredients - like Eero was indispensable for the seven brothers inspite of his arrogance.

For theresearchers, this step of expansive research is the most difficult and the mostrewarding one. The difficulty is twofold. Firstly, the application andgeneralization of the new instrument is a lengthy process requiring patienton-site data collection. Secondly, in the preceding phase the researchers andkey participants of the expansive transition have strongly committed themselvesto the given new general model and derivative instruments. Now the researcherssuddenly have to give up the advocation of those instruments and open theireyes to record events and ideas that are all but foreign to the models orsometimes make the models look outright ridiculous.

The rewardawaits in the careful analysis of such data. The researchers face the fact thatall their skillful efforts to make the participants acquire and apply theculturally more advanced models according to a plan have been partially futile.A genuine expansive cycle inevitably produces not only civilization but also aningredient of wilderness. To get a theoretical grasp of this wilderness, tofind and understand something unexpected as a piece of the history of thefuture is the reward.

REPORTING

Reportingand assessing outcomes of expansive research is not easy. The voyage throughthe zone of proximal development is best followed and recorded by employing aset of multiple methods, ranging from phenomenlogical and anthropologicalobservation and historical analysis to rigorous cognitive analysis ofperformances, conceptions and discourse processes. The sheer amount and varietyof data collected make new types of reporting necessary.

There is asimple rule for such reporting. One should apply the historico-genetic methodalso in the presentation of the research findings. In other words, one shouldreproduce the actual course of the expansive transition, following its basictemporal structure. This does not exclude seemingly atemporal excursions anddigressions into conceptual, descriptive, statistic, experimental andcomparative terrains.

This type ofreporting has ancestors and relatives in the genres of the diary, theexpedition report, the travel story, and the developmental novel. On the otherhand, the chronicle, the biography and the historical novel are not its closestrelatives. There is an important difference between these two groups. Theformer group is characterized by committed quest for new visions and conquests.The latter group is characterized by a kind of outsider's wisdom, easy toprofess after the events are over.

THE TERMINAL BALANCE

What is the historicalmission of expansive developmental research? Against the background of theanalysis presented in this book, the task may be defined as follows.

Expansivedevelopmental research aims at making cycles of expansivetransition collectively mastered journeys through zones of proximaldevelopment. In other words, it aims at furnishing people with tertiary andsecondary instruments necessary for the mastery of qualitative transformationsof their activity systems.

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What are themain findings of this study? In a simplified and condensed manner, the findingsmay be presented as the following set of categories.

<![if !supportLists]>1.<![endif]>The category of activity, expressed in the formof the triangular models depicted in Figures 2.4– 2.7.

2. Thecategory of learning activity, or learning by expanding, expressed in the formof the triangular models depicted in Figures 2.11 and2.12.

3. Thereinterpreted and extended category of the zone of proximal development,corresponding to the sequential structure of learning by expanding, expressedin the cyclic model depicted in Figure3.3.

4. Thecategorical framework for identifying and analyzing historical types ofactivity systems and expansive transitions, depicted in Figure 4.9.

5. Thecategorical framework for identifying and analyzing instruments of learning byexpanding, elaborated in Tables 4.5 – 4.8.

<![if !supportLists]>6.<![endif]>The outline of a methodology for expansivedevelopmental research, summarized in Figure 5.3. It is the nature oftheoretical research that the categories found do not corroborate, verify orfalsify themselves. This kind of research resembles an expedition. WhenColumbus returned from his expedition, he claimed he had found India. Thecategorical content of this claim was erroneous, yet his findings initiated anunforeseen expansive cycle of practical and conceptual development.

Analogously,I am sure the contents of the categories found in this study will be proveninadequate many times over. The real question is, will they become instrumentalin bringing about and mastering expansive cycles in different levels andbranches of theoretical and practical activity.

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