Language is a uniquely human phenomenon that develops in children with remarkable ease and fluency. Yet questions remain about how we acquire language. Is it innately wired in our brain, or do we learn all facets rapidly from birth?

Two books – Rethinking Innateness and The Language Game – provide us with some fascinating perspectives on language learning that bears implications for how we think about learning to read and write, and furthermore, for how we talk about the power and limitations of AI.

I am a nerd, and I skim through a fair number of research papers, both to keep current for my professional role, and because I just like learning about literacy and language.

While I use Zotero to organize some of what I come across, I tend to read through papers on my phone on buses/trains to and from work, or to print out something to read later, so I am not systematic or well-organized about what I pick up from what I read, unfortunately. I do post quotes from articles as I read them on social media, so I can search through my own past feed to find links to research I read. So while I might build my own schema about things as I read more and more stuff, I don’t retain the specific sources.

One of the things I have had in my head regarding literacy interventions is that multicomponent approaches in English tend to be more effective than single component approaches for students who are learning English at school (ELL), and for many other populations as well.

But is this right?

My son just entered kindergarten. We received a folder from his teacher with two sets of materials: an overview of the Fundations phonics program (good!), and a list of sight words that he would be expected to memorize each week (um).

This is how the sight word overview began:

Dear Families,

Did you know about 75% of words we read are sight words?

Sight word are words that do not follow the rules of spelling and therefore must be recognized by sight. The more sight words a student can recognize, the more fluent of a reader they will become.

This is Part IV in a series digging into two articles from Keith Stanovich that provides useful ways for educators to understand the science in the science of reading.

In Part I, we examined a 2003 article that proposed 5 different “styles” that can influence how science is conducted and perceived.

Since Part II, we’ve been unpacking a long and stellar 2003 piece by Paula and Keith Stanovich, “Using Research and Reason in Education: How Teachers Can Use Scientifically Based Research To Make Curricular & Instructional Decisions.”

Today in Part IV, we continue onward deeper into the article to examine the oh-so very science-y aspects of experimental design.

*The “science of reading” has become a loaded term — partly due to how “science” itself may be conceived. Since starting this series (yes, I know, I take a really long time to write posts), there’s been a fascinating trend of articles reacting to the term in various ways. These takes seem only slated to increase, given the wide attention this recent tidy overview on the push for SOR in Time has received, just as one example.*

In Part I, we examined a 2003 article by Keith Stanovich that proposed 5 different “styles” that can influence how science is conducted and perceived. In that article, we learned that in education there may be a tendency to lean towards “coherence” in narratives or the “uniqueness” presented by silver bullet fads. These tendencies can and do subvert science-based reading practice.

In Part II, we began our analysis of yet another stellar 2003 piece by Paula and Keith Stanovich, which lays out the importance in drawing on the cumulative base of scientific findings on reading, rather than on gurus, personal agendas, and politics, as the field of education so often tends to. We learned that while peer reviewed research may not be a guarantee of quality, it is at the very least a minimum criterion that establishes such research as a part of the accumulating “public” realm of scientific knowledge.

Today in Part III, we continue onward with the article from Part II, “Using Research and Reason in Education: How Teachers Can Use Scientifically Based Research To Make Curricular & Instructional Decisions,” as it is a lengthy one and there’s quite a bit more left to unpack.

The “science of reading” has become a loaded term — partly due to how “science” itself is conceived.

In Part I, we examined a 2003 article by Keith Stanovich that proposed 5 different “styles” that can influence how science is conducted and perceived. In that article, we learned that in education there may be a tendency to lean towards “coherence” in narratives or the “uniqueness” of silver bullet fads. These tendencies can subvert science-based reading practice.

In Part II, we will look at yet another stellar 2003 piece by Paula and Keith Stanovich titled, “Using Research and Reason in Education: How Teachers Can Use Scientifically Based Research To Make Curricular & Instructional Decisions.”

I’ve observed an interesting divide in how people react to and interpret the term “the science of reading” (or “SOR” for short).

For some, the term elicits eager head nodding — it’s even become incorporated into the sales pitch of many a vendor of education products. For others, the term elicits a gut reaction akin to disgust.

There’s a lot wrapped up in how someone may think of “science” at large that then influences their reactions to the term of the “science of reading.” But don’t just take my word for it. Keith and Paula Stanovich penned some really insightful pieces about this in the early 2000s, and outlined how educators can understand and leverage science to inform their own instructional practice.

I wrote a little while ago about Andrew Watson’s excellent book, “The Goldilocks Map.” I had an opportunity to attend a Learning and the Brain conference, which was what sparked Andrew’s own journey into brain research and learning to balance openness to new practice with a healthy dose of skepticism. In fact, Andrew was one of the keynote presenters at this conference – and I think his trenchant advice provided an important grounding for consideration of many of the other presentations.

I think there’s something in the nature of presenting to a general audience of educators that compels researchers to attempt to derive generalized implications of their research that can all too easily overstep the confines of their very specialized and specific domains.

There was a relatively recent Hechinger Report article by Jill Barshay, “PROOF POINTS: Researchers blast data analysis for teachers to help students” that seemed to indict any and all assessments and data use in schools as a royal waste of time. It bothered me because the only source cited explicitly in the article was a 2020 opinion piece by a professor who similarly vaguely discusses “interim assessment” and doesn’t provide explicit citations of her sources.

I tweeted out my annoyance to this effect.

To Ms. Barshay’s great credit, she responded with equanimity and generosity to my tweet with multiple citations.

Since she took that time for me, I wanted to reciprocate by taking the time to review her sources with an open mind, as well as reflect on where I might land after doing so.