On the question of educational purpose: complex educational systems analysis for inclusion

ABSTRACT

Education systems are made up of individuals, groups, identities, cultures, institutions, discourses, networks, histories, relationships, and so on. In other words, educational systems are complex. Enter into this complexity the issue of inclusion from/for a heterogenous society and how these complex systems can be designed and – specifically for our purposes – analysed. In this article, we propose a new conceptual framework for assisting in the understanding of inclusion in complex educational systems: Complex Educational Systems Analysis (CESA), and its visual representation via the CESA Cube (CESA³). At the very heart of CESA is the question of educational purpose. Why school? What is education for? These questions have direct implications in how we understand educational systems and, indeed, how we understand inclusion within these systems.

KEYWORDS:

• Inclusion
• systems analysis
• educational purpose
• complexity
• educational utility

Introduction

What is education for? What is, in fact, the purpose of education? To this, we would suggest a related question: what is the purpose of inclusion in education? It is not unknown that research within the field of ‘inclusive’ education is currently characterised by a seemingly lack of consensus regarding definition, methodology, and conceptualisation (Erten and Savage 2012). However, the question that follows is whether there also exists a lack of consensus when it comes to the question of what inclusive education is for. Korsgaard and Mortensen (2017) underline that we must begin to ask educational questions of inclusion, instead of asking inclusive questions of education. This emphasises that the question of the purpose of (inclusive) education is a teleological question and that it is, per definition, a fundamental question of all educational practice. In this article, we advance the argument that the question of the purpose of (inclusive) education is, in fact, a question of the purpose of education in general, and thus we must understand inclusion related to the very core mission of education itself (e.g. Knight 2000; Slee and Allan 2001). In this article, we will present and discuss an analytical approach and way of understanding (inclusive) education in complex socio-cultural systems. We put forward an analytical approach which encompasse the possibilities of a multidimensional and context-sensitive way of creating knowledge on (inclusive) educational practices. As an integral part of this endeavour, we will, as mentioned in the above, ask fundamental educational questions of inclusion and therefore not only advance a way of analysing a complex phenomenon as inclusive education, but simultaneously ask; what is (inclusive) education for?

Relative to this question is in how we, the authors, define ‘inclusive education’. In this article, we aver that ‘inclusive education’ should simply be understood as ‘education’, and a specific look at the inclusive aspects of ‘education’ should be known as ‘inclusion and diversity in education’ (Schuelka et al. 2019). In this article, however, we attempt to bridge the gap of conceptualisation by writing it as ‘(inclusive) education’ so as to be understood by a wider audience – particularly within this journal’s readership. We do not necessarily want to get hung up in terms here, but also feel that it is appropriate to push for a shift in thinking. All too often, ‘inclusive education’ only asks questions on how children with ‘disabilities’ or other ‘differences’ can be made to fit an existing school system. We believe that we should be asking a different question: how can school systems fit the needs of all children?

The question posed above is very much a multidimensional question with multidimensional answers, and we argue that when doing a complex educational systems analysis, the teleological issues of education must also be addressed. When addressing the notion of ‘telos’ and utility regarding education, we draw primarily on the work of Biesta (2010, 2015) and the idea of three interrelated domains of educational functioning and purpose. Furthermore, we acknowledge when addressing teleological questions, that the purposes of education never can be understood, practiced, and analysed detached from the socio-cultural foundations they are situated in. In relation to this, we will apply the distinction between pure and impure pedagogy (Roemer, Brinkmann, and Tanggaard 2011; 2014). Moreover, we will apply the theoretical distinction between strong and weak teleological views as discussed by Burbules (2004). These will be discussed in the Utility section below.

For Biesta, the first domain of educational purpose is qualifications. This domain has to do with certain elements of knowledge, dispositions, and skills that a society and educational systems want children to acquire. The second domain of socialisation has to do with the ways in which students in schools are participating, and learning to participate, in social systems, cultures and traditions. Biesta (2015) writes:

Through education we also represent and initiate children and young people in traditions and ways of being and doing, such as cultural, professional, political, religious traditions, etc. This is the socialisation dimension which is partly an explicit aim of education but, as research in the sociology of education has shown, also works behind the backs of students and teachers, for example in the ways in which education reproduces existing social structures, divisions and inequalities. (77)

The third domain of subjectification refers to the forming or cultivation of the subject or, in other words, how children come to exist as subjects with their own initiatives, actions, thoughts, and choices.

The domain of socialisation in Biesta’s understanding might be fairly criticised for being too narrow and, indeed, forging particular forms of sociality and excluding others. In order to overcome this shortcoming, Biesta’s domain of socialisation can be understood and applied in conjunction with Nancy Fraser’s model for understanding social justice in education (Keddie 2012). When the domain of socialisation, as a domain of educational purpose, is understood from the perspective of the significance of cultural recognition, the processes of socialisation in (inclusive) education are more concerned with overcoming already defined norms and values in specific school communities.

There is a kinship between Biesta and the work of Labaree (1997) in identifying the purposes of education in American society as being dilemmas between democratic equality, social efficiency, and social mobility. In Labaree’s analysis, there is a historical and contemporary tension between the view of education as a public collective good versus a private individual good. Certainly, this tension exists in the (inclusive) education community as well, in the dilemmas of specialised individual needs and achievement versus an inclusive social justice vision where schools are transformative societal incubators (Artiles 1998; Thomas and Loxley 2007).

In this article, we will explore in what ways the above notions connect to inclusion and diversity within a complex educational system. For example, in what ways are educational systems participating in a socio-cultural structure that preferences certain knowledges, or values certain skills; that socialise into certain pre-existing inequalities; that shape the subjectification biases of certain children? To begin to unpack these questions, we provide a brief overview of previously proposed analytical frameworks of (inclusive) education. After this, we then move to explaining complex systems and the three dimensions of the Complex Educational Systems Analysis Cube (CESA³). We then close with some suggestions for application of the CESA³ theoretically and methodologically.

How have we analysed (inclusive) education systems previously?

‘Inclusive’ education, as a concept, dates back approximately to the 1960s and 1970s and originating in various Euro-North American locations such as Scandinavia, England, and the United States and centred primarily around access and educational services for persons with disabilities (Artiles, Kozleski, and Waitoller 2011). Global initiatives such as the Salamanca Statement in 1994, the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities in 2006, the Incheon Declaration in 2015, and the current Sustainable Development Goals are increasingly pushing an ‘inclusive education’ agenda across school systems. However, educational systems change is never a straight-forward and neutral process, and there is a rich history of trying to make sense of the function of inclusion within an education system.

In this article, we argue that in order to understand and explore inclusion within an educational system, it is helpful to think of inclusion as a multi-layered socio-cultural process. Whilst functional or instrumental analysis of (inclusive) education (i.e. Booth and Ainscow 2011; Kyriazopoulou and Weber 2009) may be useful in some instances – particularly in understanding educational access and participation – it is most often not so straight-forward that pulling one lever in an educational system leads to a single result somewhere else. Educational systems are not machines but socio-cultural systems made up of people, and reducing (inclusive) education to a set of measurable – often quantifiable – indicators (UNESCO Institute for Statistics 2018) does not capture the entire picture of a system. In fact, we would argue that this reductionism leads to a myopic and distorted view of inclusive realities in schools and school systems (Johnstone, Schuelka and Swadek In press). This is not to say, of course, that large-scale, international, analytical tools for (inclusive) education are not becoming more sophisticated and nuanced (e.g. UNESCO 2017). For example, the work of Save the Children on (inclusive) education in Laos (Grimes 2010) should be applauded for its balance of context, educational systems change, and understanding of systems and school cultures whilst still striving for a set of indicators for identifying successful inclusive practices across the system for all children.

In terms of analytical frameworks, there have been numerous arguments for both greater understanding and acknowledgement of education’s complexity, as well as attempts to view (inclusive) education through layers of socio-cultural systems and discourse. Peters (1993) was an early advocate for a socio-cultural approach to understanding education, disability, and inclusion. Other analytical frameworks that we find particularly compelling and that inform our own thinking include Comparative Cultural-Historical Analysis (Artiles and Dyson 2005), an Ecosystemic Approach (Singal 2006), and many more recent explorations (i.e. Carrington et al. 2017; Dalkilic and Vadeboncoeur 2016; Sprunt et al. 2017). Whilst we are certainly not comprehensive in the references cited above, it is worth devoting a bit of space in this article on what we view as a worthy attempt at trying to capture the complexity of (inclusive) education systems. This is an expansion of the input-process-output framework (Kyriazopoulou and Weber 2009) by Loreman, Forlin, and Sharma (2014) in which they proposed adding macro-, meso-, and micro-layers of analysis. This can be seen in Figure 1.

Figure 1. Micro-meso-macro levels in relationship with inputs-processes-outcomes (Loreman, Forlin, and Sharma 2014, 169).

The reader will notice the repetition of many elements across layers of analysis, highlighting that many elements are not the domain of any one level and, indeed, are shaped by a dialectic across levels. In our analytical framework proposal in the next section, we use elements of this model, although argue for further expansion and complex understandings of such a view of (inclusive) educational systems as well as insisting on asking questions of educational purpose in the process.

A case for complex educational systems analysis (CESA)

On complexity in educational systems

The argument that complexity exists within educational systems – or any social system – is not breaking new ground. This is particularly true and acknowledged in education policy studies with an emphasis on the situational embeddedness of educational actors within a social institutional system that contains cultures and values (i.e. Honig 2006; Opfer and Pedder 2011; Rizvi and Lingard 2010; Sutton and Levinson 2001). As indicated in the section above, there is some acknowledgement of socio-cultural-historical complexity in viewing inclusivity within an education system. Others have drawn directly on complexity theory in order to understanding teacher professional learning for inclusive practice (Walton et al. 2014). For the purposes of this article, however, we want to freshly explain our definition of complexity in how it applies to educational systems analysis.

Many notions of complexity and chaos theory come from the physical sciences, but we also believe it has application to the social sciences – if not even more so. For our definition of a complex system, we cite Amaral and Ottino (2004):

A complex system is a system with a large number of elements, building blocks or agents, capable of interacting with each other and with their environment. The interaction between elements may occur only with immediate neighbors or with distant ones; the agents can be all identical or different; they may move in space or occupy fixed positions, and can be in one of two states or of multiple states. (148)

Complex systems are open and nested, meaning that there is little to no boundary between elements and surroundings, between inputs and outputs, and elements within the system are complex systems within complex systems ever unfolding like a fractal. In education-related terms, this can be shown to be the complexity of classrooms that themselves exist within the complexity of a school eco-system, with the school itself a boundary-less space of discourses and ‘scapes’ (Appadurai 1996; Carney 2009). The classroom itself is a complex interaction of elements, which both inform the school-level, as well as be informed by the school-level. And so on and so forth. To this, we add that certain attributes of complexity are also at play in educational systems: nonlinearity, nondeterminism, emergence, spontaneous order, adaptation, and feedback loops – akin to Giddens (1991) notion of self-reflexivity. An educational system is a dynamic space where elements interdependently interact in unpredictable ways; in which new patterns and new phenomenon may emerge; and in which elements may adapt based on changes to the system; and where elements themselves may be shaped by their own actions or the shifting dynamics of the system itself. It is with this theoretical underpinning that we offer a new analytical framework for exploring inclusivity within complex educational systems; or, Complex Educational Systems Analysis (CESA) and ‘The Cube’ (CESA³), as seen in Figure 2.

Figure 2. The complex educational systems analysis cube (CESA³).

We propose the CESA³ as a way of analysing and framing inclusive functioning within an educational system, but not as a means to view ‘inclusive education’ as an isolated sub-set of education. Below, we will explain each dimension of the CESA³ in turn. Whilst the visual depiction of CESA is best put in a cube, we want to emphasise that we do not believe that an analysis can pinpoint an exact location within it. The dimensions are not themselves a quantifiable scale nor a measuring stick of any kind. Rather, we view the CESA³ much like an expanding or contracting universe in that all elements are moving in relation to each other. As we argued above, a complex system is an open system in which elements are interacting with themselves and their environment in emergent, adaptive, and self-reflexive ways. If we believe that what we are representing with the CESA³ is indeed a complex system, then logically there is no fixed volume within it. Therefore, it can never be that there is an analytical datum in isolation or fixed in one space within the cube, as there is no ‘within the cube’ to be found.

The multi-level dimension (micro, meso, macro)

Important influences for the multi-level axis of the CESA³ come from two sources. The first influence is ecological systems theory as put forward by Bronfenbrenner (1979) and widely known in education and the social sciences. Briefly, in Bronfenbrenner’s framework there are five interconnected systems that form the larger ecological system of child development – microsystem, mesosystem, exosystem, macrosystem, and the chronosystem – all wrapped around the individual child. This has influenced both on the multi-level dimension of the CESA³, as well as the communities dimension explained below. For the sake of space, we encourage the reader to access a richer and more detailed explanation either from the source (Bronfenbrenner 1979) or its application in (inclusive) education (i.e. Anderson, Boyle, and Depeler 2014; Singal 2006).

The second influence for the multi-level dimension is the work of Bartlett and Vavrus (2017) in their creation and justification for a comparative case study methodology. Schuelka (2018a) argued that this methodology was an excellent fit for disability and education research in acknowledging that there is no strict separation in disability conceptualisation between the local and the global. A comparative case study can be defined as a, ‘multisited, qualitative case study that traces the linkages among local, national, and international forces and institutions that together shape and are shaped by education in a particular locale’ (Vavrus and Bartlett 2009, 11–12). The comparative case study – and, naturally, the CESA³ – draws from a rich variety of conceptual sources (Appadurai 1996; Carney 2009; Hannerz 2002; Tsing 2005) and methodological sources (Bray and Murray Thomas 1995; Burowoy 2009; LaTour 2005; Marcus 1995; Sutton and Levinson 2001).

An example of the application of dimension axis is the work of Schuelka (2014; 2018a) in conducting a comparative case study of ‘inclusive education policy’ implementation and conceptualisation in Bhutan. Through his work, and within this methodological framework, he was able to explore how ‘inclusive education’ travelled across and through multiple levels – reiterated and reimagined by elements and actors and reshaping the socio-cultural conceptualisation of ‘disability’ itself (Schuelka 2015, 2018b). Other researchers have conducted or proposed similar research in recognition of multi-level dynamics (Artiles, Kozleski, and Waitoller 2011; Benson In press; LeFanu 2013; Singal 2006, 2010).

The communities dimension

Educational processes do not take place in a vacuum. Rather, they must be understood as complex and dynamic phenomena which are situated in specific socio-cultural contexts. In this section, we will present and discuss a multidimensional model of vertical and horizontal inclusion across communities, which can contribute to our understanding of (inclusive) education within complex socio-cultural systems.

Inclusion and exclusion are processes that constantly occur in a – potentially – infinite number of co-existing communities. Therefore, it is meaningful to talk not only about a learning community (in singular) but, instead, a variety of communities (plural) that are present in school. Several standing definitions of (inclusive) education derive from an understanding of inclusion that entails the student’s presence, participation, and learning outcome in the school community (Ainscow, Dyson, and Booth 2006; Dyssegaard, Larsen, and Tiftikci 2013; Qvortrup 2012). However, there are several problems with these understandings of (inclusive) education that transcend mere conceptual problems, but also have pedagogical implications in practice. Firstly, some applied definitions focus on inclusion in the learning community (singular), and hence neglect the existence and significance of the multiple and co-existing communities in which students participate. This could lead to the neglect of the understanding of the possibility for a student to be included in one community in school but excluded in other communities at the very same time (Qvortrup 2012).

Another substantial critique of the above-mentioned understandings of (inclusive) education is that to a certain extent they are inadequate when it comes to explaining the degree or even depth of inclusion. By this, we mean that the mere physical presence, through educational access, in general education does not equal inclusion. Perhaps it does in an administrative or even quantifiable manner, but not when it comes to the student’s subjective experience of belonging – or not belonging – to a certain community in school. From this critical outset, we suggest an understanding of inclusion that derives from two related dimensions: horizontal and vertical inclusion (Qvortrup 2012; Engsig 2015). The horizontal dimension of inclusion involves a dynamic and multifaceted understanding of the notion of communities. As illustrated in Figure 3, there are several types of school communities in which students can be included or excluded:

Figure 3. Dimensions of inclusion: communities and depths.

Policy communities can be both formal and informal and exist on different levels from national education policy all the way down to classroom policies that are both explicit and implicit. Policies are a statement of values with societal, professional, and resource implications (e.g. Rizvi and Lingard 2010). Formal and professionally-led teaching and learning communities are structured, have educational purposes, and led by teachers in which students participate. Adult–child communities occur in less formal settings. This could be interpersonal interaction between a student and a teacher in the school hallway or during recess. Informal and adult organised communities do not entail an explicit and formulated purpose or aim. This could be a community where there are no explicit learning aims. Self-organised communities are organised and managed by the students without any interference from teachers or other adults. This could be, for example, self-organised play, interactions on social media, and so forth. Finally, child–child communities are characterised by interpersonal interaction between two students – for example, best friend constellations (Qvortrup 2012). The vertical dimension of inclusion is concerned with the degree, or perhaps more precisely, the depth of inclusion (Engsig 2015). The notion of vertical inclusion entails a critique of more traditional understandings of inclusion due to the understanding that a student can be included in school communities on very different levels. Physical inclusion is a consequence of the student’s mere presence. Social inclusion involves the student’s active participation. Experienced inclusion is the distinction between a student’s subjective experience of being included (or not) in a given community or, in other words, a student’s sense of belonging. From this understanding of inclusion, it is possible to be included in one community and excluded from others. Furthermore, the notion of vertical inclusion establishes the analytical possibility that it is possible to be physically and socially included and not included in the understanding of inclusion as a subjective experience. In an empirical study in several Danish schools, the multidimensional understanding of inclusion was operationalised into a set of indicators of ‘good’ inclusion (Engsig, Naesby, and Qvortrup 2016). These indicators were empirically validated and used by teachers to gain systematised knowledge of the different types of inclusion. Teachers could use this tool in relation to establishing knowledge of whether a student was included in different types of communities, and this could lead to the conclusion that students, whom teachers had assumed to be included, were not experiencing inclusion. The multidimensional understanding of inclusion, which encompasses a vertical and horizontal dimension of inclusion, can potentially overcome the analytical shortcomings we might encounter when trying to understand inclusive educational practices as these are situated in complex and dynamic socio-cultural systems.

The educational attributes dimension (access, quality, utility)

As we have argued above, the CESA framework invokes teleological questions of education, and frames these questions within the notion that education prima facie should be inclusive, rather than treat ‘inclusive education’ as an add-on feature or evolved form of ‘special’ education. To this, we separate educational values into three attributes for discussion and analysis: access, quality, and utility. We acknowledge our influence from the access, equity, and transition framework (Lewin 2007) that advanced similar ideas in slightly different terms. Once again, we remind the readers that we do not view these attributes as mutually-exclusive or isolated. There is a flow between and amongst these attributes in that they are both informed and predicated upon each other.

The first attribute that we will discuss within this dimension is the notion of Access. This is perhaps the most widely and globally discussed attribute, with strong discourses that have come out of the United Nations sphere-of-influence particularly since the Jomtien Education for All framework in 1990. In the most conventional of definitions, ‘access’ is often framed in terms of gross enrolment figures in comparison with ‘out of school’ children. However, Lewin (2007) has helpfully expanded this understanding into what he terms ‘full access’:

Full access is not secured unless enrolment is linked to high attendance rates and time on task, progression occurs with little or no repetition, indicators of learning outcomes confirm that basic skills are being mastered, and most if not all have opportunities to enter and complete lower secondary schooling. In addition some consideration must be given to equity. Full enrolment may conceal very large difference between schools and the public resources available per child to support learning. (21)

To this explanation, we would add that ‘access’ is completely enmeshed with all other aspects of the CESA³. The notion of access runs across communities, from legal frameworks that enshrine the right to access education down to individual access to peer-to-peer communities that foster a psychological sense of belonging. Access has various discursive and political implications across levels (Singal 2006) from micro to macro, and even becomes entangled with the other attributes within the dimension discussed in this section. There is a continuity of ideas here from the notion of vertical inclusion discussed in the communities dimension. In short, we define educational access as physical access to schools and learning materials, access to the curriculum and learning outcomes, access to diverse and quality pedagogical delivery, and conceptual access to school system values and inclusive ethos. Booth and Ainscow’s (2011) Index for Inclusion offers some helpful ideas in terms of understanding the multi-dimensionality of educational access.

The second attribute within the educational attributes dimension is the notion of Quality. Educational quality is a term that is difficult to define, and is often accompanied by a set of data-driven and quantifiable indicators that tend not to remain constant (UNESCO 2005). In fact, the term ‘educational quality’ itself has long been a bit nebulous, varies widely in definition and operationalisation, and may never have full consensus (Adams 1993). The Delors Commission in 1996 named four pillars of quality education for the twenty-first century, which we find helpful in framing ‘quality’ in education:

Learning to know acknowledges that learners build their own knowledge daily,

combining indigenous and ‘external’ elements.

Learning to do focuses on the practical application of what is learned.

Learning to live together addresses the critical skills for a life free from

discrimination, where all have equal opportunity to develop themselves, their

families and their communities.

Learning to be emphasizes the skills needed for individuals to develop their full

potential. (Delors et al. 1996, as cited in UNESCO 2005, 30)

To add to this conceptualisation of educational quality, we also turn back to Save the Children’s work in Laos, as mentioned earlier, because it offers a comprehensive set of indicators that not only speaks to inclusivity in education, but satisfyingly conflates it with educational quality. Numerous studies have shown that increasing educational quality also increases educational inclusion, and vice-versa (e.g. EASNIE 2017). For the purposes of this article, we have re-framed the larger indicator categories into a series of questions that educational systems can ask of themselves across all levels and communities:

• Do all pupils feel welcome in the school?

• Do all students support each other in their learning?

• Are all students well supported by school staff?

• Do teachers and parents cooperate well?

• Are all students treated equally as valued members of the school?

• Do all students feel that their opinions and views are valued?

• Can all students access learning in all lessons?

• Can all students access all parts of the school building?

• Do all students enjoy lessons?

• Are all students engaged in all lesson activities?

• Do all students achieve their learning in all subjects according to their individual ability?

• Do all students learn together?

• Do all students have access to appropriate health services as necessary?

• Does the school ensure that all students are admitted to the school?

• Are all vulnerable children successful in their learning?

• Does the school create a school environment which supports all students’ learning?

  (Grimes 2010, Appendix B, paraphrased from original)

Note that the above list of questions is not disability specific, nor is it specific to any other category of marginalisation or student characteristic. This is, of course, intentional both on the part of the Save the Children project and also for our argument.

We reiterate that the attribute of Quality is interdependent and integrated with the other two attributes, as well as across the other dimensions and related to questions of educational purpose. However educational quality is defined and operationalised, attributes of access and utility can influence quality in many ways. This is why we argue for a complex systems framework in acknowledging these effects. In a simplistic example, we point to the fairly successful campaign to get more and more children into school via a global discourse of ‘Education for All’. Many countries have responded to this discourse within legal frameworks, but also economic factors are increasingly pushing students into higher educational qualifications. However, the educational system has not responded uniformly or proportionally to this increase in enrolment, and in many cases, the inclusivity and quality of education suffers (UNESCO 2015). In other words, too much weight on the attribute of Access has not been countered by quality adaptation within the system elsewhere. There are examples of this from all over the world, from North (Pedersen et al. 2016) to South (Engelbrecht et al. 2016; Singal 2006).

The third attribute within the educational attributes dimension is the notion of Utility. As discussed in the introduction of this article, we find it fundamentally significant to ask teleological questions regarding education in general, but also specifically when analysing and striving for understanding (inclusive) education in complex socio-cultural systems. This focus is partly due to the fact that education per definition is a normative practice, and thus we need not only to ask whether or not educational practices are effective but also if they are desirable and what they are good for. Biesta (2015) writes:

I argue for the need to refocus the discussion on the normative question of good education, rather than on technical questions about effective education or competitive questions about excellent education. This requires that we focus above all on the question of the purpose of education and have an informed understanding of the particular character of how this manifests itself in education, i.e. as a multi-dimensional question. (75)

Biesta’s (2015) argument is rooted in what Roemer, Brinkmann, and Tanggaard (2011; 2014) characterise as an impure pedagogy. In other words, Biesta is arguing for a teleology of education that is impure in the sense that is must always be understood as being situated in complex socio-cultural contexts and is thus not pure, and socio-cultural neutral, per definition. Burbules (2004) makes a distinction between strong and weaker teleological views. Strong teleological views are transcendent and thus not tied to any particular socio-cultural norm or historic foundations. As an example, educational aims that are concerned with learning outcome, visible learning, competencies and character-building represent such strong teleological views. Weaker teleological views are more concerned with normative questions of education situated in specific socio-cultural settings as discussed by Biesta in the above. The strong teleological view entails the underlying assumption that educational aims are transcendent and thus not dependent on more socio-cultural norms. In other words, this understanding is an example of pure pedagogy. Our understanding of telos is in alignment with Burbules’s (2004) notion of teleology as something that can only be defined within societal and cultural contexts and assumptions, which, in Roemer, Brinkmann, and Tanggaard (2011, 2014) understanding, is impure pedagogy.

When analysing and understanding inclusive educational practices within complex social and cultural systems the teleological questions are central, and in this article these questions of purpose are threefold. As previously discussed, the questions of purpose, or utility of (inclusive) education, are concerned with the domains of qualifications, socialisation and subjectification (Biesta 2015). These domains or purposes of education can, to a certain extent, be understood as representing both strong and weaker teleological views. We are, however, applying them with a sensitivity to the socio-cultural educational foundations that exist in complex systems. The matter of qualifications is interlinked to questions regarding the usefulness of education in relation to student’s life trajectories and future employment. Therefore, when investigating (inclusive) education in socially and culturally complex systems we must address the question of qualifications in both an empirical and normative manner with an interest in what types of knowledge, skills and dispositions are both valued as well as necessary in an educational and societal context. The domain of socialisation is concerned with the ways in which we, through education, initiate students in communities, traditions, cultures, politics, etc. When investigating (inclusive) education, we must then ask questions of purpose regarding processes of socialisation, which can be framed through the multidimensional understanding of inclusion with a focus on the dimension of communities. Practices of socialisation, in particular in an inclusive educational perspective, entails a positioning of newcomers in such a manner that they can acquire the necessary knowledge, skills and tools to be able to participate in certain communities in school. Thus, when students are included in educational systems, they are so into systems were norms and values are defined by those already included (Osberg and Biesta 2010). Socialisation also encompasses a social justice perspective that not only prepares children to become adult members of society, but may also prepare children to new societal attributes such as greater inclusivity. The domain of subjectification may to some extent be connected to vertical inclusion with a sensibility of the connectedness between students’ subjective experiences of belonging to certain communities and the processes of becoming a subject. Biesta (2015) argues that subjectification encompasses the qualities of being, or becoming, a subject which entails independence, autonomy, responsibility and capabilities for judgement – akin to the German notion of bildung (Biesta 2002) and the Japanese notion of zenjin (Sakuma 2017), amongst others. When thinking about (inclusive) education in complex and dynamic systems, the notion of subjectification becomes an analytical entity that can contribute to the possibility of asking critically-informed questions to how (inclusive) education, in a given context, contributes (or not) to the processes of subjectification.

In a practical sense, what we mean here is that the reasons for children attending school matter, and have an effect on all of the other dimensions of an (inclusive) educational system. We also believe that the question of educational utility is both the most under-explored in terms of (inclusive) education, but at the same time is perhaps the most crucial piece of the puzzle. For example, the attributes of ‘access’ and ‘quality’ are connected to ‘utility’ in that we ask the questions: Access for what? Quality because why? The issues of secondary school transition for students with ‘disabilities’ are well-known and widely documented (e.g. Newman et al. 2011; Winn and Hay 2009), and yet there are not nearly enough teleological questions being asked in terms of whether the purposes and attributes of education are at least loosely aligned. All too often, marginalised children receive an education rooted in remedial work skills and routine, while ‘privileged’ children receive an education with depth, breadth, and with a diversity of experiences and cognitively-enriching activities (e.g. Kozol 2005; Rose 2009). Students with ‘disabilities’ are particularly saddled with ‘life skills’ curriculum that are often of poor quality and not enriching (e.g. Newman et al. 2011). This strikes at the heart of utility and purpose of schooling, in that the message of educational systems is qualification for all, socialisation for most, and subjectification for the elite few.

Another notion of educational utility that we fold into our understanding is the feeling of disjuncture when the purposes of education do not align themselves well with the outcomes of education. Indeed, there is a palpable sense of the breakdown of meritocratic myth of education for social and economic success – if it ever did truly exist in the first place. To this point, we turn briefly to the work of Demerath (1999) in Papua New Guinea, in which he explores the notion of how educational utility is shaped by resource availability, knowledge, identity, and power. Demerath (1999) goes on to write on how, ‘local conceptions of schooling can change when promises of links between education and modernization go unfulfilled and when mass education fails to create “productive” citizens’ (192). To turn this idea into our analytic framework, a sense of educational purpose and utility needs to be thought of as a continuum across communities, as well as across levels of society. The question is how educational systems are preparing children for a future that is not entirely theirs to choose. We believe that schooling and learned knowledge is narrowly defined and over-valued in many ways, which has serious implications for inclusion in education. The value, or utility, of education can only go so far as the educational system itself values the experiences and knowledges of each individual child.

Conclusion: applications of the CESA framework

We conclude this article with a few suggestions for a way forward in using this theoretical framework within practical research applications, as well as in expanded ways of understanding inclusivity in education.

The first application we suggest is to use the CESA framework as a theoretical basis for community asset mapping. Community asset mapping is an established practice, particularly in public health (e.g. Selamu et al. 2015), social work (e.g. Lightfoot, McCleary, and Lum 2014), and local government advocacy and community development (Green and Goetting 2010). However, we believe that its application to education has not been fully explored. We propose to innovate asset mapping through our CESA framework of novel dimensions and uniquely identified communities. There is also promise here is providing research that is solution-focused and design-driven, rather than deficit-focused and stuck on a formulaic ‘barriers to inclusion’ trope. By working with communities to identify existing structures of inclusion support – perhaps by framing them within the dimensions of the CESA³ – we can respond and work more positively on inclusive systems within local communities. This means that (inclusive) education development looks much less top-down or as a Global North neo-colonial project, and more like a ‘learning from each other’ model. In our own research work, we hope to expand upon this in exploring inclusion in isolated communities, where segregation and exclusion are not really viable options.

A second application that we suggest is to use the CESA framework within the already-existing comparative case study (CCS) methodology (Bartlett and Vavrus 2017; Schuelka 2018a). There is already an established structure in place with the CCS framework that examines phenomenon across multi-sited, multi-level, socio-cultural, and historical dynamics. We suggest that the CESA³ can neatly fit together with CCS in exploring (inclusive) education across communities and educational attributes in the same manner. Whether or not there is a complete merger of CCS and CESA, nonetheless there are a large range of methodological options that are already well-established by CCS that have application to CESA as well, including ethnography, discourse analysis, and network analysis – but even quantitative and statistical methods. The method used is not as important as to ‘follow the inquiry’ (Bartlett and Vavrus 2017). Just as CCS is ‘not a recipe or a set of rules’ (7), CESA is also a theoretical framework to aid in exploring a phenomenon or problem.

In conclusion, we propose the CESA framework not as a rejection and replacement of all that came before it, but as an enhancement that brings together many different ideas and hard work from other scholars. This is certainly not a ‘grand theory’ or attempt to reduce complex systems into a neat little box. Rather, like jazz, we welcome and encourage scholars to engage with the CESA³ by changing it, altering it, contesting it, playing with it, and ultimately making it your own.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Matthew J. Schuelka

Matthew J. Schuelka is Lecturer of Inclusive Education at the University of Birmingham School of Education. His primary area of scholarship concerns sociocultural understandings of disability and education, and a focus on design and systems of schooling for all students. Dr Schuelka has been involved in education, research and development projects all over the world, including Zambia, Serbia, Malaysia, Japan, Denmark, India, the United States, the United Kingdom and particularly in the Himalayan country of Bhutan.

Thomas Thyrring Engsig

Thomas Thyrring Engsig is Associate Professor (Docent) at the UC of Northern Denmark’s research programme for Children and Youth at Risk and Inequalities in Life Opportunities. Dr Engsig’s research interests are inclusive and supportive education, teacher education, international and comparative education, disability studies, and equity and social justice in education.