Schema Theory


Having spent some time musing over the ideas of cognitive information processing theorists and having found them far too mechanistic and limiting, I looked forward to my introduction to schema theory with optimism. Hadn't I been hearing about the virtues of schema theory since I started this program three semesters ago? I felt confident that schema theory would go a long toward addressing the underlying weaknesses in the other theories that we have discussed. Unfortunately my hopes have not been realized. I agree that schema theory has enhanced cognitive information process theories in its effort to identify a construct which acknowledges the role of prior knowledge on learning. Upon more careful analysis I found schema theory also to be overly mechanistic, finite, and simplistic in accounting for learning. It is in what schema theory does not deal with that I find the weakness. Moreover, I think that schema theory is based on underlying assumptions which limit its application in my view of instruction.

In schema theory a schema is a packet of knowledge; a data structure that represents generic concepts. Schema-based processing occurs when an incoming stimulus activates a schema. The activated schema sets up certain expectations which if met result in the instantiation of the schema and understanding is achieved. If the stimulus presents offers variables not in the activated schema, then the current schema is either modified or a different schema is activated. Learning occurs through the modification of existing schema by adding to the variables of the schema (tuning), filling in existing variable slots (accretion), or reconfiguring an existing schema to form a new one (restructuring).

In the discussion that follows I use several examples to highlight weaknesses in the theoretical constructs of schema and schema processing:
Scenario 1: Not long ago I was meeting a friend in her office to go to lunch. While finishing things up to go she asked me a question related to the side effects of an antibiotic she was taking. I replied that indeed, the side effect she mentioned had been reported for that drug, and I added, "Too bad you don't have a Facts, I could tell you the incidence." Giving me a puzzled look, she replied, "Of course I have a fax, it's right over there."
Scenario 2: On another recent occasion while sitting in my office at the hospital a technician came in and asked, "Do you have a Facts in here?" I replied, puzzled, "No, why do you need a fax?"

Scenario 1 apparently supports schema theory and the role of prior knowledge in activating a schema when encountering a stimulus. My friend who has no background in pharmacy would probably not have a schema for searching for answers to drug questions. The Facts I was referring to is a common reference book for pharmacists, Facts and Comparisons. For my friend an alternate schema was activated and apparently instantiated, a different resource for information but quite familiar to her as public relations director at a radio station, the facsimile machine.

In the second scenario, I was presented with a question in the context of my workplace requiring recall of a piece of knowledge well known to me. Yet I, too, responded to the stimulus with a question which indicated that, despite the contextual nature of the stimulus and my prior knowledge, the wrong schema had been instantiated.

How can that be explained? Why hadn't I just reached up on my reference shelf and grabbed the Facts. I had just used it moment before.
Scenario 3: Somewhere along the line as a child I learned the definition of divorce. Also, as a child and a young adult, probably through church and family, I learned that divorce was a bad thing; that it caused irreparable harm. Then I experienced divorce first hand. Everything I had learned previously came true. It was a bad thing. I felt irreparably harmed. There was pain, disappointment, and anger. Whenever anyone asked I said that divorce was a terrible, anguishing, detrimental experience. A schema theorist might say that during that time my divorce schema underwent accretion and tuning, that is I added other variables but my original schema remained unchanged. Now, six years later, what do I say about my divorce? I say that it is an opportunity, no matter how unwanted, for incredible growth and positive change. How does schema theory account for this change, this learning? Perhaps one could say that my schema has been tuned or even restructured. Yet these explanations don't seem consistent with the definitions of those processes. Seemingly for a schema to reconfigure to such a degree repeated experiences or stimuli would be required activating the schema in question and consistently suggesting the need for reconfiguration. In this case I did not have more than one personal experience with divorce nor did I have experience with others during that the last six years undergoing divorce. Likewise I did not read or study alternative perspectives of divorce. Still divorce to me today represents a different entity than did the original schema. It seems that the reasons for the alternate view resulted from knowledge and experience outside the presumed divorce schema. How then was I able to construct a new and very different meaning from what was originally learned? What is the connection and interaction between what is stored in one schema with that stored in another? My understanding of schema theory would not account for the construction of the meaning as was done here.

Scenario 4: A friend of mine who emigrated here from Colombia brought with him certain ideas related to social class structure. A schema theorist would those ideas or pieces of knowledge represent my friend's social class structure schema. The schema includes the subschema of peasant in a decidedly nonegalitarian and negative sense. Despite our long relationship and studies in Latin American culture which have helped me gain some knowledge of this cultural difference, rarely can I withhold a reactionary defensiveness to such comments from him as "Oh, she's nice but she's just a peasant." Upon his reference to peasant I immediately think he is judging that person to be uneducated, uninspired, uninteresting, and most definitely, unequal to him, and I rise to defend the peasants of the world.

On the other hand, my friend frequently will attribute certain characteristics or qualities of my behavior or nature to my "peasant" origins. On these occasions I find myself flattered not defensive. On these occasions the concept of peasant becomes positive and I am pleased to be included.

How can the instantiation of a social class schema with a subschema of peasants account for two very different reactions potentially in a matter of minutes? If all that happening is a sort process and the filling of variables, how can I have alternate perspectives? Is it possible that I have two separate subschemas for the concept of peasant? Anything is possible but it doesn't seem plausible. I find it very difficult to imagine that every single take on every single interpretation of a concept, etc. could be packaged as an independent packet of knowledge.

So what do these examples lead me to believe about schema theory. Schema theory as defined by the presence of data structures representing generic concepts in memory do not sufficiently account for the wide range of meanings for any given piece of knowledge for one individual;schema-based processing does not account for the complex and highly variable application of knowledge for a given stimulus. The parsimony of schema theory minimizes its plausibility to me. A theory that looked at schema as one type of representation or processing might be more palatable.

Furthermore when I look at schema theory for applications to instruction I am not convinced that I can subscribe to its constructs and create a rich learning environment. Driscoll mentions several areas in which schema theory has been successfully applied: reading comprehension, textbook design, arithmetic problem-solving, and understanding cultural knowledge. In each of these cases it seems to me that the underlying assumption is that learning is about packaging instruction. Presumably, theorists' efforts to focus on the role of prior knowledge in the schema makes the instruction "package" more meaningful and hence, more learnable. I do believe that prior knowledge plays a role in learning, I'm not convinced that its primary role is to enhance further learning, or that teachers necessarily affect learning by identifying prior knowledge.

Perhaps the emphasis on the representation of specific pieces of knowledge is what is most troublesome to me. The fixed nature of schemata automatically limits the possibilities of what actually occurs when learning takes place and even further, later applications of particular learning. Frankly I find it difficult to understand how anything new, i.e., inconsistent with an existing data representation, is ever learned. Schema theorists themselves seem to find this problematic.

In one sense I find my skepticism of schema theory difficult to maintain in spite of all the questions I have raised. On at least several occasions since I began my graduate study in education schema theory has been brought up in support of other ideas that I more enthusiastically endorse. I find myself asking what am I missing? Why don't I see the magic or he secret? Sometimes I think the term schema is being used loosely to imply a collection of views or a world perspective. If I am right about that the implications of the term are quite different and more useful to me. If I am wrong and the term is being used literally than I need further convincing before I could be persuaded to accept schema theory as my theory of learning.

A couple of weeks ago I was trying out an assessment tool with a second grader that involved the oral retelling of a story she had just read. This particular story was a folktale about a young girl with phenomenal strength and stamina who performed heroic feats on every page. When K. retold the story to me she spoke of the young girl's many courageous acts culminating in killing a bear the size of Montana; however, she also vividly described an act that the girl had, in fact, not done in the story, that being saving people from a burning building. Where did this bit of comprehension come from? Was it an inference drawn from a generic schema for girls who do heroic things? Or was it another part of her world that helped her make sense of this story? How did it interact with the stimulus of the story? If it were an inference from a generic schema, where then does the detailed description come from? Obviously, I have lingering questions.