Last week I wrote about some of the principles of Ecological Dynamics Theory (EDT). I talked about trying to see the wood for the trees, with the aim of clarifying what is useful to know about EDT as a teacher or coach. The post was in response to the growing, but often imprecise, use of the term ‘eco’ in movement coaching and martial arts.
This week I want to take this a little further by exploring how knowledge of EDT might manifest usefully (and simply) in approaches to training, learning and practising movement.
To begin, I think it’s helpful to be reminded of the following ideas:
EDT proposes knowledge as an emergent phenomenon. In EDT, knowledge isn’t stored in the brain and retrieved when we need it. Instead, it emerges in the dialogue between the individual and their environment.
In EDT, knowledge isn’t abstract. It is situated - shaped and defined by the context from which it emerges.
EDT frames learning as the process of exploring and testing behaviour in relation to specific environmental conditions.
Taking these points as a foundation, it’s clear that applying knowledge of EDT in your own practice begins by recognising learning as a process of active inquiry - where knowledge is not something transmitted from teacher to learner, but something created in the interplay between teacher, student, learning activity and environment.
This means that to arrive at skill we must attend to the relationships between outcome, behaviour and context. Skilled behaviour does not depend on the ability to imitate or reproduce predetermined patterns of action - even if doing so might work sometimes. Consistently arriving at skilled behaviour depends on the ability to be surprised by the differences and variations that emerge during practice and to respond creatively. Effective learning depends on being able to recognise, process and integrate variation - rather than consistently performing an action as you’ve been instructed.
This analysis makes practical sense of the distinction EDT makes between exposure and repetition during learning. Rather than being a point of semantics, this distinction recognises skill as contextual. The distinction between repetition and exposure suggests a different orientation for the learner. In repetition-based pedagogy, the learner is tasked with arriving at consistency (often defined by the teacher). In exposure-based pedagogy the learner is tasked with interrogating differences - with the aim of arriving at an understanding of what needs to remain consistent across varied contexts. In essence, exposure-based pedagogy centres the student and their inquiry, while repetition-based pedagogy centres the teacher’s understanding.
This leads us on to the idea of constraints as tools for facilitating learning in EDT. A learner can’t be expected to process all the variations that potentially exist in a practice, sport or art. Such a task would be overwhelming. Accordingly, constraints are used to limit contextual variation. To take a random example from life-drawing: Rather than asking a student to draw the person in front of them in whatever way they choose, the teacher might create exercises where the student has specific limitations. These might include: drawing the figure using one continuous line; drawing the figure using only variation in light and shade (instead of lines); drawing the figure with the non-dominant hand; drawing the figure without looking at the paper; drawing the figure in only 30 seconds. Each of these constraints serves to illuminate different aspects of how a figure might be represented on paper - encouraging the learner to reflect on the affordances of different techniques and approaches. The use of constraint speaks directly to Nikolai Bernstein’s focus on dexterity.
Perhaps the simplest way of thinking about how to apply EDT to learning is to think about all learning as a process of orientation. EDT recognises skill as contextual and emergent. To be skilful is to be able to orient our bodies and our desires in relation to the ever-changing environment. To be skilful is to be able to recognise and act on the affordances that surround us.
So what should you do with all this in your learning and training?
I suggest the following:
Think about learning as process of orientation. Ask yourself how an activity provides you with information about where you are and what’s possible in that location or context.
Approach learning as a process of ‘detecting small differences’ (to borrow from Moshé Feldenkrais). Learning is recognising variant and invariant conditions and organising yourself accordingly to achieve a desired outcome. You can’t learn if you can’t detect differences in your experience of self and environment.
Recognise the value of constraints and limitations. Detecting small variations in a complex and chaotic situation is difficult. We need to scale our engagement with tasks. Find an orientation that allows you to learn and progress. If you can’t achieve your desired end result - break the activity into component parts and explore them in turn.
Allow novel information to act on you. Learning is about change and transformation. If your training only reinforces what you already know, you might benefit from trying something new. This means we need to prepare for the experience of learning to be occasionally frustrating and incomprehensible. Trial and error can be annoying. In my experience, the ability to perform a skill often (if not always) precedes my ability to explain and articulate that skill. I think learning depends on immersion in an activity. Explanations from a teacher rarely make much difference until we can do a skill. Before we can do a skill the explanation rarely makes sense - because we don’t have the sensory data that the explanation depends on. I’m not saying here that talking doesn’t help - but we do need to be mindful about how much talking is necessary.
More and more I come back to thinking about learning as play. The play theorist Stuart Brown talked about play as ‘exploring the possible in preparation for the unexpected’. This is a very ‘eco’ perspective. It’s an aphorism that should be taken into every classroom and every experience of learning.
I’m planning a few more posts over the summer, after what was a much longer break than I expected. (Work, life, spinal surgery.) But as most of my energy will be in writing my new book, these posts will focus on experiential anatomy and short Awareness Through Movement lessons - loosely centred on the theme of exploring the possible in preparation for the unexpected.