Understanding your power as an educator and how it makes your students behave
My career as an educational researcher has been steeped in understanding student and teacher behaviour. When I was a doctoral student, I was fascinated by the unspoken expectations of behavioural norms that students and teachers display in universities.
What interested me was that universities are supposed to be more liberating. They are heralded for spaces to explore your passions and creativity, question knowledge, and take responsibility for yourself as a lifelong learner.
And yet.
My research demonstrated a remarkable reliance on what I call the ‘traditional’ power relationship (Symonds, 2019; 2020; 2021a; 2021b). The dynamic is constituted through the roles of the ‘traditional’ learner and the ‘traditional’ teacher. These roles are socially constructed and each has a different amount of power granted to them; I call it dispositional power.
When someone is performing in the ‘teacher’ role, they are automatically granted a certain amount of dispositional power through the systemic construction of the role they are performing within. According to Hayward:
“When agents act, they act within limits that are set, in part, by the actions of other agents. At the same time, they act in contexts that are structured by rules and laws and norms: social boundaries to action, which — not unlike the actions of other agents — limit what they can do and what they can be” (2008, p. 14).
Systemic power, then, dictates which social roles have which capacities to act. This is further established through what Foucault calls the '“regime of truth” (1979, p. 47). Kreisberg elaborates on this by arguing:
“There is, in fact, a dominant discourse of power in modern Western culture, which is reflected in our popular culture, in our institutions, throughout our social relationships, and within the social sciences. This dominant discourse is intricately enmeshed in and reflective of a wider ‘regime of truth’ that has both constrained and produced modern societies” (1992, p. 35).
This ‘regime of truth’ emphasises the naturalness or normativity of the ‘traditional’ learner and teacher roles, and their associated powers and behaviours, in educational contexts.
So social systems construct these roles and prescribe certain powers and expected behaviours onto them. Isaac argues that power is “the capacities to act possessed by social agents in virtue of the enduring relations in which they participate” (1987, p. 22). They become “enduring relations” through their repeated enactment by individuals.
This enactment is often unconscious. We don’t really think about why we should behave this way, we just know we should.
In other words, we don’t actively choose to adhere to these social roles because we like the associated powers they have or the behaviours they are associated with. We adhere to them because they are associated with educational contexts and thus, we naturally assume the positions without thinking much about it.
Whenever you enter a social context, there are certain roles that have been created to exist and perform within that context. Let’s take the church, for example. The role of a priest is a socially constructed one (what I mean is that the church, as a social system, made the role and prescribed guidelines for how to perform as one a very long time ago); when someone becomes a priest, they are expected to behave like a priest, and when we interact with a priest we have the same expectations about their behaviour. There aren’t actually written guidelines for the behaviour per se, we just have (what appears to be) an ‘instinctive’ understanding of how a person in that role should behave. That is because social roles are constructed for us by social systems, and we perform in them in our interpersonal relationships. The roles become second nature because they are performed over and over again; the longer they are enacted, the more naturalised they become. Education is the same. Like the church, education is a very established social system. The roles, then, are equally established.
The problem with this is that the social roles of the ‘traditional’ learner and the ‘traditional’ teacher elicit behaviours that are not particularly useful for the kind of learning we’re trying to encourage.
When I was collecting data from interviews with students and academics, as well as observations of lectures and seminars, there were a number of characteristics that defined the ‘traditional’ power relationship and dictated the behaviours of the teacher and learner roles that constitute it:
Authority of knowledge
Deference
Affirmation and self-esteem
AUTHORITY OF KNOWLEDGE
The ‘traditional’ power relationship dictates that the learner consumes the authoritative knowledge held by the teacher. Despite attempts by universities to encourage more collaborative partnerships with students (Little, 2010; Bovill, 2017), there is still a reliance from students to accept the teacher’s authority of knowledge (Symonds, 2021). The dispositional power granted to the social role of the teacher awards them the ability to “tell [students] what things mean, what to do” (Shor, 1996, p. 11-2). Students expect this; they have been socialised into understanding their role as learners is to listen to the teacher, and accept the knowledge being given as authoritative.
Universities and academics are not forcing this ideology onto students, but the deep-seated establishment of the ‘traditional’ power relationship dictates the expectations of behaviour for students. Many academics attempt to go against this ideology of power by employing more democratic teaching practices, but as Kreber tells us, “a teacher whose intent it is to encourage students to think for themselves, by employing learning journals, electronic discussion forums, face to face discussions or portfolios, might in fact inadvertently promote students’ dependence on authority. It is not that these practices are inherently bad, or less desirable than those where the expert is clearly visible (as is the case in a lecture); the point is rather that we should not assume that power has gone away in these situations” (2013, p. 135).
This can be difficult for educators in higher education. Many are trying to get their students to question authority, to think critically, to move outside of their normal thinking patterns. Today’s problems need this kind of thinking. But, the strength of the traditional power relationship is a massive barrier in trying to get students to behave in different ways (Symonds, 2021).
DEFERENCE
The authority of knowledge held by the teacher necessitates a sense of deference from students. Universities are characteristic of more equal relationship dynamics between students and teachers. Many academics prefer to be called by their first names, as opposed to Sir or Professor (this is true of the UK, at least). But, students are still deferent; they may learn that they don’t need to use academic titles, and they don’t need to put their hands up like in compulsory schooling, but their instinct is still to defer to their teachers. Throughout schooling, the teacher role has the dispositional power to punish students; as Nixon et al., point out “like parents, lecturers have a double nature to their students; they can provide pleasure and gratification, though their capacity is not unlimited, and inflict pain and suffering in their role as judge and disciplinarian” (2016, p. 13-4). The dispositional power to punish granted to the social role of teacher is brought forward into higher education, despite the removal of disciplinary methods that are present in compulsory education.
Again, this is difficult in today’s higher education because it can prevent students from wanting to speak up in class for fear of looking stupid or getting it wrong. They do not want to be judged as incompetent or stupid by academics. They can also be reluctant to accept their peers’ responses until academics have confirmed their validity, which is detrimental to fostering a learning community. And, despite many academics emphasising that students can disagree with them, ultimately they still have the power to dictate what knowledge is correct and what knowledge is incorrect. Added to this is the simple fact that higher education uses teaching methods that promote deference. The lecture is the ultimate display of deference: Listen to what I say because I have knowledge and you do not. Of course I’m generalising here, and some institutions have tried very hard to redesign their lecture formats to move away from this model. But the point I’m making is that the lecture in its original and more established design (and therefore the associated image we get when we think of a lecture) is one that promotes passive deference.
AFFIRMATION AND SELF-ESTEEM
Students are conditioned to seek affirmation from teachers to boost their self-esteem. The authority bestowed upon the teacher role means they have the ability to validate a students’ intelligence, their capability, and even their sense of self. After all, students are used to being affirmed throughout their compulsory schooling: when they do well, they are rewarded with praise; when they don’t do well, they are provided criticism or punishment. Hargreaves argues that “the majority of pupils become addicted to the teacher’s approval during the process of formal schooling. When they learn, it tends to be as a means of obtaining approval rather than as an end in itself’”(1972, p. 200). Despite emphasis on students’ taking responsibility for their own learning in higher education, this characteristic of being a traditional learner is still present because higher education is, after all, an educational context. Similar settings invoke similar behaviours (Symonds, 2021) and higher education is a setting in which students are formally assessed by teachers, just like school. As Kreber tells us, “when students feel that their work is being monitored, this can lead to a kind of self-disciplining which finds expression in the student’s desire to give the teacher what he or she wants to hear. Students then become expert performers. What appears as the students’ own voice may in reality be the voice the student thinks the teacher is waiting for” (2013, p. 136). This is the opposite of what we want to foster in our students: critical thinking, authenticity, and the ability to think for themselves.
The image below is an animated version of a drawing produced by one of the student participants in my doctoral research. The student was drawing their conceptualisation of a bad relationship with an academic. You can see the impact that the teacher’s lack of affirmation has on the student’s self-esteem — she physically shrinks (Symonds, 2019).
The need to be affirmed by teachers is a problem in higher education. We’re trying to create individuals who can think for themselves, but how can we do that when students are hardwired to seek approval? Why would they risk thinking differently from their teachers when there is a risk of damage to their self-esteem?
So what do we do?
Social roles and their associated behaviours can be incredibly difficult to break. They are so well established, so well known that they become second nature. We don’t need to think too much about how to be a student or a teacher, it’s almost instinctive. But, of course, it’s not a natural instinct. It’s a socially constructed one. This is good because if it’s constructed, it can be deconstructed. But, only if we’re aware of it.
As educators, we need to be aware of how our students are likely to behave around us. Why they act the way they do, and how they are likely to respond to our actions. When we understand this, we can begin to reframe it. But, here’s the issue. Most interventions in higher education happen to students, rather than with them. Collaboration policies or partnership approaches are designed by institutions and then thrust upon students. This is likely to be met with resistance.
Instead, we need to talk to students. We need them to understand their behaviours and why they may feel inclined to act in a certain way. We need them to understand why we’re trying to break the mould. For what purpose? It’s no good just telling students that this is how it is; if we really want them to change behaviour, they need to understand the behaviour themselves.
Likewise, when we tell students ‘It’s okay if you’re wrong’, or ‘There’s no right answers, just give us your thoughts’ it’s not enough. We need to repeatedly reinforce the notion that knowledge is fallible, that just because you’re teaching a subject does not mean you know everything. We need to reinforce the necessity of failing. We can’t just tell students that it’s okay to fail (they will assume that whilst it’s okay, it’s certainly not wanted), we need to tell them that we want them to fail. We want them to try something new, mess up, and then improve. We need them to understand that this is what we did.
If we want students to become critical thinkers who can push boundaries, question authority and ways of being and doing, and use innovative solutions to solve today’s problems, we need to dismantle the ‘traditional’ power relationship. To dismantle it, we need both parties (not just academics and researchers) to understand it, and to recognise why it’s not helpful. Critical thinking is being able to “identify the core presuppositions underlying [our] interpretations of particular situations, subject these to critical scrutiny, and explore alternatives” (Kreber, 2013, p. 58). Is it not fitting, then, that we begin by critically scrutinising the core presuppositions that underlie our own behaviours in higher education?
REFERENCES
Bovill, C., 2017. A Framework to Explore Roles Within Student-Staff Partnerships in Higher Education: Which Students are Partners, When, and in What Ways? International Journal for Students as Partners, 1(1), pp.1–5.
Foucault, M., 1979. Truth and power: An interview with Alessandro Fontano and Pasquale Pasquino. Translated by P. Patton. and Translated by M. Morris. In: M. Morris and P. Patton, eds. Michel Foucault: power, truth, strategy, Working papers collection ; 2. Sydney, Australia: Feral Publications.pp.29–48.
Hargreaves, D. H. 1972. Interpersonal Relations and Education. London: Routledge and K. Paul.
Haugaard, M., 2012. Rethinking the four dimensions of power: domination and empowerment. Journal of Political Power, 5(1), pp.33–54.
Hayward, C., and S. Lukes. 2008. Nobody to Shoot? Power, Structure, and Agency: A Dialogue. Journal of Power 1 (1): 5–20.
Isaac, J. C. 1987. Beyond the Three Faces of Power: A Realist Critique. Polity 20 (1): 4–31. doi:10.2307/3234935.
Kreber, C. (2013). Authenticity in and through Teaching in Higher Education. London: Routledge.
Kreisberg, S., 1992. Transforming power: domination, empowerment, and education. SUNY series, teacher empowerment and school reform. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Little, S. ed., 2010. Staff-Student Partnerships in Higher Education. [online] London: Bloomsbury Publishing PLC.
Nixon, E., Scullion, R. and Hearn, R., 2016. Her majesty the student: marketised higher education and the narcissistic (dis)satisfactions of the student-consumer. Studies in Higher Education, pp.1–21.
Shor, I., 1996. When students have power: negotiating authority in a critical pedagogy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Symonds, E. (2019). Reframing power relationships in higher education: An integrated understanding of conflicting power relationships and undergraduate subjectivities in the current university climate. PhD Thesis. Lancaster University.
Symonds, E. (2020). Reframing power relationships between undergraduates and academics in the current university climate. British Journal of Sociology of Education.
Symonds, E. (2021a). An unavoidable dynamic? Understanding the 'traditional' learner-teacher power relationship within a higher education context. British Journal of Sociology of Education, 42(7), 1070-1085.
Symonds, E. (2021b). ‘Chapter 9: Reframing the 'traditional learner' into the 'partner' in higher education’. In Brooks, R. and O'Shea, S. (Eds.). (2021). Reimagining the Higher Education Student. Routledge.
