Whilst the choice might not be so great as the one on offer at this second hand bookshop in Eastbourne, I am fortunate to work in a well-resourced college and even more fortunate to be given near total freedom to use my own professional judgement in the selection of materials for use with my learners. This post, my contribution to the ever-running debate around the use or non-use of course books, refers to this context and recognises that for those working in government-funded institutions, under more controlling management structures or at different stages in their teaching career the issues are likely to differ. But for me, in my relatively free and easy context, what are the things to consider?

Production-line teaching 

First up, ‘deskilling‘, which is what happens to teachers when their decision making capabilities atrophy. Richards  ¹ warns of this and talks about the trivialisation of teachers’ roles that arises from the expectation that they should simply follow protocol as laid out in the teacher’s manual. Apple and Jungck ² call it ‘the separation of conception from execution‘.

“When complicated jobs are broken down into atomistic elements, the person doing the job loses sight of the whole process and loses control over his or her own labor because someone outside the immediate situation now has greater control over both the planning and what is actually to go on.”

This depressing quotation leaves me thinking of factory production lines, of the mass-produced nature of all the things I strive to avoid in my non-teaching life. But is it really all that bad?

It is easy to see how having mastered a very few basic skills and learnt some terminology a person could bake a cake by successfully following a well-written recipe despite having had no prior training in baking, possessing no understanding of the science involved and lacking entirely the skills to deviate from the recipe in any way without disaster. Translate this metaphor back to the classroom and for the new teacher, which in my context means the recent CELTA graduate, this is surely no bad thing. A non disaster-risking route through the lesson at hand, whilst far from ideal in many senses, is precisely what is required. I imagine this is what Allwright ³ is talking about when he refers, uncharitably, to the ‘deficiency view’ of course books. This raises further issues: the issue of whether a four week course can truly be said to qualify anyone for anything, or whether, in fact, deficient could arguably be an appropriate adjective for much of the teaching delivered by those holding such minimal qualifications.

Controversial questions that raise further questions of their own, but not the question at the heart of the matter here for me, which is summed up by Swan ⁴ when he said:

“Textbooks can seem to absolve teachers of responsibility…it is easy to just sit back and operate the system, secure in the belief that the wise and virtuous people who produced the textbook knew what was good for us” 

Assuming that we are thinking about experienced teachers now, is laziness too strong a word for what this suggests? If it is, then perhaps terming it the attitude easy-going or laissez-faire might seem less harsh. Less harsh perhaps but no less dangerous in my view. Where is the creativity? Where is the responsiveness to the needs of those in the room? For me personally, the biggest joy in teaching is the freedom I am given to use that creativity to meet those needs. And as the maxim goes, in reference to languages itself as well as, I would argue, the skill needed to teach them well, use it or lose it.

Time on my hands 

Having said all of those things, what follows might seem like a contradiction. However, just because teachers arguably should be able to create materials and in many cases possess great skill in this doesn’t mean they have time to do so. I don’t need to list all the things a teacher has to do every week to make the point that I would not argue with anyone who feels that by the time you add those duties required by the school (complete this online training course about what to do if you suspect one of your learners of terrorist activity) to those not required by anyone but necessary to doing a good job (teacher, I know it’s break time but I need help with my ___) to the actual hours spent in the classroom, the working day is full. As Richards says, a good textbook can free up the teacher’s time and attention for the business of teaching, in Harmer’s ⁵ terms ‘relieving the pressure’ which would otherwise stem from the pressing necessity for originality in every lesson.

This question of time is taken a step further in Allwright’s ‘difference view’. The point he makes is that the skills involved in teaching and those in materials writing are not the same. Whilst I would argue that materials writers should be teachers – like Nick Robinson, who in his recent webinar talked about the position of privilege teachers-turned-materials designers have, I imagine it must be hard to know what makes good materials for English language learners having never taught English language learners. It doesn’t follow, though, that classroom experience, even of the extensive sort, constitutes expertise as a writer of materials. As Richards points out, specific training in this would be necessary. And with so much to learn in the way of linguistic awareness, pedagogy, classroom management and the rest it’s no wonder that Maley’s ⁶ description of the situation as one of delegation to specialists is one which is familiar in my context. Matsuhara ⁷ uses the word ‘alienating’ and points to heavy workloads in ‘under-resourced teaching contexts’ as the reasons for this exclusion of teachers from the world of materials writing. The word ‘homegrown’, to describe the teachers own offerings, is contrasted with the ‘eye-catching’ nature of ‘colourful and glossy’ commercial course books, implies that their efforts struggle to compare in any case.

3. On control 

McGrath’s ⁸ research into metaphors for course books is fascinating in that it demonstrates how very differently they are perceived. This is particularly pertinent with regard to the degree of authority a course book should be permitted to exert and the extent to which it is acceptable to flout its stipulations. Maley describes the situation as one in which “the materials can pre-empt all the important decisions which teachers themselves might otherwise be expected to make”. It is not only the content, but the order of the content, the rate of progression through and procedures for using of the content which are predetermined. The way that course books prevent or discourage teachers from utilising their pedagogical reasoning is problematic in that it contributes to the deskilling discussed above. But for some, the same control is a positive. Harmer speaks out in support of course books: “Good textbooks… provide a sensible progression of language items, clearly showing what has to be learnt”. McGrath makes the point that the learners as well as the teacher benefit from knowing what is to be learned, a point which is surely based on two fairly sizeable assumptions. Firstly, the belief that it is possible to articulate with any degree of specificity what is on that ‘must be learnt’ list and secondly, the faith that the producers of course books are primarily motivated by the desire to facilitate language learning. The thus-far cloudy findings of SLA research coupled with the recognition that publishing houses lie at the heart of the ELT industry which, as an industry, is primarily motivated by profit are two very good reasons for discounting this point.

Acklam ⁹ points out that the teacher ultimately has responsibility for what happens in the classroom:

“The course book should never be allowed to assume an authority it does not merit and consequently be blamed for failing to ‘work’…. but always open to manipulation by the teacher who ultimately will… ‘know’ his / her students and their particular needs.”

To make an obvious statement, all learners are different. Consequently, teachers need to develop the skills involved in ensuring learning moves at a sufficiently rapid pace to maintain the focus and motivation of the most able whilst also making sure no-one gets left behind. In my context, there is a further everyday reality to be considered, that of the administrative system known as continuous enrolment. The needs of different learners who start from different places, often at different times must be met.  A final thought is the arguable necessity of recognising the lack of agreement on methods in language teaching and on the basis of this, taking a critical approach to the method implied in any given course book.

These combine into a rather tall order, the demands of which an inexperienced teacher is going to struggle to fulfil with even the best course book at hand. With growing experience comes the ability to make a success of the worst. Perhaps the presence or absence of a course book is not the true issue at hand but rather, what can be done to help teachers avoid an unquestioning, one-sided view of course books, to understand the scope of the demands made of them and to develop the skills they need to meet those demands.