Wayne Koblynski

Social Constructionism, Authority and Consensus and Dissent

"Conceptions of knowledge and the management of social relations are inextricable from issues of authority," writes Maria Holt in an essay on collaborative learning (CCC 44, 1993, p. 546). Based on the corpus of work on social constructivism and the comments made in this class, her statement seems to hold true. One of the main tenets of social construction theory is that authority lies in the hands of a "community of knowledgeable peers" (Bruffee 1, 199) instead of an abstract "truth" or a single person. Since this theory has been to some extent applied to the guidelines for English 11, a large majority of the students in English 131 this semester have demonstrated at least a twinge of misgiving or doubt at the prospect of teaching a class based largely on collaboration and peer review. There is nothing strange in such a reaction. "After all, we are the (in-the-process-of-being-)trained (quasi-)professionals who have paid our dues to earn the right to stand in front of a classroom, and our students are young, largely inexperienced people just out of high school, yet they are given primary control of the class," a disgruntled 131 student might say. At the root of this turmoil is the role of authority in social constructivist/collaborative learning theory, which manifests itself in two general (but related) areas: consensus/dissent and the position of the teacher.

A brief overview of social constructivist theory will show how these two issues arise and relate. The basis for social constructivism is the belief that "entities we normally call reality, knowledge, thought, facts, texts, selves, and so on are constructs, generated by communities of like-minded peers" (Bruffee 1, 196). Some philosophers, like Richard Rorty, extrapolate this theory and apply it to all knowledge. Hence, knowledge is defined by Rorty as "socially justified belief." Since there is no universal ground of truth or knowledge from which to speak, the authority of knowledge resides in "an agreement, a consensus arrived at for the time being by communities of knowledgeable peers" (Bruffee 1, 199). This view of knowledge, social constructivists claim, is applicable to all spheres of thought. Thomas Kuhn focuses on the "for the time being" aspect of this consensus in the scientific community, and describes the process by which groups of scientists change their beliefs until a new consensus is formed, resulting in a new conception of scientific truth or even a large-scale "paradigm shift." Applied to composition, social construction theory emphasizes that "writing is primarily social act," and that "we use language primarily to join communities we do not yet belong to and to cement our membership in communities we already belong to" (Bruffee 1, 207). The practical application of this theoretical framework is most often some form of collaborative learning, which assumes that "learning occurs among persons rather than between a person and a thing" (Bruffee 1, 210). In this approach, students work together in groups frequently and assume part of the responsibility for editing and assessing each other's writing. As a result, the teacher is placed in the role of a guide/facilitator/manager rather than a total authority figure.

Clearly, such a view of knowledge construction stresses consensus in a community of peers and calls into question the traditional role of the teacher. A closer look at the aspects of this theory that apply to composition, however, may cast the situation in a new light. Kenneth Bruffee, following an image employed by Michael Oakeshott, argues that all humans inherit a conversation that began with our earliest ancestors. The entire history of human thought is actually an ongoing conversation. This notion follows Lev Vygotsky's idea that "reflective thought is public or social conversation internalized" (Bruffee 2, 639). Language, according this view, precedes thought. One hears the conversation of society, then internalizes it, so that social conversation and personal thought are essentially similar. The implications of this idea support collaborative learning and social construction, for "To think well as individuals we must learn to think well collectively—that is, we must learn to converse well" (Bruffee 2, 640). In terms of composition, this concept emphasizes social interaction and conversation among peers about their writing, since writing can be defined as "internalized social talk made public and social again" (Bruffee 2, 641). Thus good conversation leads to good writing: "The way they [students] talk with each other determines the way they will think and the way they will write" (Bruffee 2, 642).

Bruffee acknowledges that there are two problems with the application of this "conversation theory," once again bringing in issues of teaching authority and consensus: 1) most college composition teachers are professors or graduate students who have been taught that "collaboration and community activity is inappropriate and foreign to work in humanistic disciplines such as English" (Bruffee 2, 645), and 2) there will always be a certain degree of "abnormal discourse" that "challenges…the authority of the community which that knowledge constitutes" (Bruffee 2, 648). Bruffee attempts to solve problem number one by claiming that in the collaborative scheme, teachers act as ordained ministers of the community of composition conversation. They know best how that community speaks, and so they are its guides and emissaries. Problem number two, on the other hand, ceases to be a problem when viewed in the right way. Abnormal discourse can be an agent for necessary change, and is beneficial in its challenging of the consensus. On the first point about the role of teachers, I will reserve judgment for a short time. The second point, on the importance of abnormal discourse, seems to me to be crucial to the question of authority in the composition classroom, as I will now endeavor to demonstrate.

With all the talk about consensus in the collaborative classroom, it is easy to forget that not all of the participants in the conversation are "like-minded peers." Students come from varying places and have varying backgrounds. Though they have come together in the college composition classroom, they still belong to different discourse communities. As Joseph Harris puts it, "one does not step cleanly and wholly from one community to another, but is caught instead in an always changing mix of dominant, residual, and emerging discourses" (Harris, 17). There is always a danger that certain discourses will overpower others, for "even with considerable planning collaboration can quickly become an exercise in social reproduction, a rehearsal for a drama of tacit control" (Stevens, 2). This was the case in one collaborative class described by Carrie Shively Leverenz, in which one student, a white senior English major and trained peer tutor, dominated her group with her notions of "correct" writing style and emphasis on textual evidence, despite the teacher's openness to non-traditional forms of discourse (Leverenz, JAC 14.1, 1994). In this case, consensus was determined by one student who asserted her authority and was not challenged by peers who saw themselves in a position of less authority (an African-American woman and a Korean-American woman, neither English majors). Abnormal discourse played virtually no role in this group, leaving authority in the hands of one person speaking from a traditional vantage of respected knowledge.

It seems to me that abnormal discourse is essential to the generation of knowledge in a collaborative classroom. I agree with people like John Trimbur, who point to the dangers of stressing consensus and instead emphasize the role of "dissensus" (Trimbur, 608) and difference (though I do not necessarily agree with some of his Marxist readings about the "division of labor," "production of knowledge," and "fund of cultural capital" in the college classroom). The consensus of the collaborative classroom should not be merely a compromise or the adoption of a view perceived as more authoritative than others; rather, there should be a consensus of difference. Students should learn to see the differences in their views, as Trimbur describes: "One of the benefits of emphasizing the dissensus…is that it poses consensus not as the goal of the conversation but rather as a critical measure to help students identify the structures of power that inhibit communication among readers (and between teachers and students) by authorizing certain styles of reading [or writing] while excluding others" (Trimbur, 614).

When thinking about how I would run my own collaborative classroom, it is helpful for me to consider the work of literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin on dialogism and heteroglossia (see Bakhtin's The Dialogic Imagination). Bakhtin claimed that all utterances are manifestations or condensations of many linguistic and social forces present at the time of utterance. In other words, a word uttered at one time will have a different meaning from that same word uttered at any other time, for there are different pressures and conditions surrounding its utterance. Hence there is no such thing as a single meaning for an utterance, or as Bakhtin puts it, there is no such thing as "authoritative discourse." Any person claiming to speak "authoritative discourse" is simply attempting to claim a control that he or she has no right to claim. The basic condition of all utterances is what he calls heteroglossia, literally "many tongues." Any utterance is comprised of several voices speaking at once, and each of those voices pulls on the utterance in a different direction. Some of these forces are centripetal, he claims, meaning that they attempt to center the utterance and ground it in an authoritative and definitive meaning, while others are centrifugal, and pull the other way, towards a decentered and anti-authoritative meaning. These ideas are particularly useful for me to consider because I applied this theory of heteroglossia to the speeches of Joseph Stalin in an essay for a Soviet History class. I alleged that Stalin attempted to use language in a "monolithic" and "concretized" way that allowed for only one meaning and resisted any centrifugal forces that may pull on his words. When I think about myself as a teacher, I am therefore always trying to evade the specter of Stalin—the authoritative voice that does not allow for dissenting opinions. That study of Stalin's speech helped me to see the importance of heteroglossia and dissent in the formation of meaning, and I intend to implement these ideas in the classroom as much as possible. As one essay on difference in the classroom puts it, "If, as linguists assure us, the site of difference is also the point at which meaning is negotiated and understanding occurs, then we have a unique opportunity in our often conflicted classrooms" (Gergits and Schramer, JAC 14.1, 1994, p. 9).

Though several writers on the subject of dissensus and difference in the collaborative classroom agree with my valorization of heteroglossia, pointing to the importance of "a heterotopia of voices—a heterogeneity without hierarchy" (Trimbur, 615), "an ensembled individualism" (C. Stewart, JAC 12.2, 1992, p. 6), and "a kind of polyphony" (Harris, 17), these heteroglot and musical images do not help me in actual preparation for teaching a class. It is easy to say to myself, "Don't be Stalin." Actually not being Stalin is another matter. For assistance on this matter, I turned to the comments of my classmates, in true collaborative fashion. In the discussion forum for the article on Jardine, Laura Mielke said, "Jardine's emphasis on respect for the student and down-playing the authority of the teacher might prove effective in the UNC classroom but could stand some examination before application." In another discussion, Robin Kidd noted, "We all live within and among very different—even contradictory—communities and respond differently in different environments. Why should the classroom ignore this? I'll admit, though, encouraging assimilation and reaching it are no easy tasks." Both of these comments show that my classmates are thinking about the same issues that I am considering, but both also treat practical application as a question or a danger. Austin Fairfield's comment, "The key is to make students aware that they do switch between discourses, and the cultures that are implicit in them," is more prescriptive, but still does not enter into the nitty-gritty of how to enact this prescription. I was left as unsure as before how to make my classroom a forum for heteroglossia.

With further reflection, however, I have come to believe that the most important element in promoting heteroglossia in the classroom is the attitude and openness of the teacher to abnormal discourse and dissensus. The musical metaphors used by various writers led me to devise yet another extended metaphor for the composition teacher: the conductor of an orchestra. As a conductor, the teacher guides the students to some extent in subject matter—choosing the song, if you will. He or she also deals with the logistics of the group, making sure that the various sections in the orchestra show up for rehearsal and enforcing punishments for absence or apathy. This conductor chooses the songs to be played, but the performance is up to the musicians. The conductor gives them a certain leeway for interpretation of the music, and even allows for the rewriting of the score. In this way, the musicians take part in composing the music they play. Various musicians can choose to play a phrase softly, loudly, harshly, sweetly, etc. All he or she asks is that the musicians listen to each other and analyze how their varying interpretations of the music affect each other and differ from each other. Some musicians may even change the way they play the piece after listening to others play it. If nothing else, the musicians should be encouraged to ask why they play it differently and to see that their way is not the only way. The conductor does not play the piece at all, so that his or her interpretation of the music does not affect the musicians' views. He or she does, however, have greater experience in the field and can give helpful advice and can judge how well the musicians learn from themselves and others. Eventually, after a few group rehearsals, each musician will have to give a solo performance, and the conductor can see the progression of the individual musician. What is important in the end is not the harmony of the final product in the group, but the recognition of the various voices, and the recognition that even the individual musician has several voices and factors behind his or her voice.

Any metaphor is inherently artificial, and translating this metaphor to the reality of teaching a composition class is no simple task. Part of the trouble is getting students to realize that they have a voice, and that their voices may not be the same as other peoples' voices. Along those lines, a useful assignment might be a perspective-oriented experiment. Say, for example, that the students are presented with an advertisement and told to write down their initial reactions. Then they are told to write down the reactions to the ad that their mothers might have to the ad, then their grandmothers, then their fathers, grandfathers, roommates, professors, friends of different races, etc. It is a simple but possibly helpful assignment that can help students remember that their views do not make consensus. That is not to say, of course, that their views are wrong or unimportant. A larger assignment can reproduce the same effects. For instance, the students can watch a production of Shakespeare's Othello (or maybe a few different productions) while pondering the proposed question: "How is Shakespeare a universal writer?" After watching the play, they are presented with an opposing question, such as, "How might a woman object to this play?" or "How might an African American object to this play?" or even "How might an Elizabethan Englishman or Englishwoman object to this play?" (Othello seems like a good choice for such an assignment because of its involvement with gender and race issues, and several very different versions have been produced. Take, for example, the recent race-reversal production in which only Othello is white, or the South African production in which Othello "goes native" as the play progresses, donning tribal clothes and jewelry.) Having students compare their own reasons for claiming Shakespeare is a universal and very human writer with the problems they find that other people might have with him can reinforce the idea of multivocality while presenting them with an engaging work that they can recognize is itself merely another work of composition.

Some might raise the objection that inviting abnormal discourse is a dangerous thing. They argue that there may be a point at which the discourse becomes too abnormal. I can only say that there is always a possibility that something strange or difficult may happen, and one can only deal with problems as they arise. I do not feel, however, that the average college class will express "dangerously abnormal" views, and I do not feel threatened by a class composed of twenty-two different opinions. If there is no consensus at all, so be it. Learning composition is not dependent on agreement. In fact, the recognition of differing viewpoints should be beneficial in helping students find their own voices. Therefore, however much my academic training might push me toward assertions of authority and consensus, it is important for me to remember to be a good conductor who encourages polyphony and heteroglossia, always steering clear of the shadow of Stalin.

Bruffee, Kenneth. "Social Construction, Language, and the Authority of Knowledge: A

Bibliographical Essay." Class handout—source unknown.

Bruffee, Kenneth. "Collaborative Learning and the 'Conversation of Mankind'." College

English 46 (November 1984): 635-52.

Gergits, Julia M. and Schramer, James J. "The Collaborative Classroom as a Site of

Harris, Joseph. "The Idea of Community in the Study of Writing." College Composition

and Communication 40 (February 1989): 11-22.

Holt, Maria. "Knowledge, Social Relations, and Authority in Collaborative Practices."

College Composition and Communication 44 (December 1993): 538-555.

Leverenz, Carrie Shively. "Peer Response in the Multicultural Composition Classroom:

Stevens, Scott. "Serious Work: Students Learning from Students." JAC Online 16.2

(1996): http://www.cas.usf.edu/JAC/162/stevens.html.

Trimbur, John. "Consensus and Difference in Collaborative Learning." College English

51 (October 1989): 602-616.