What is the Science of Reading?

And why the definition matters....

What is the “science of reading?”

There is some recognition that this term is being used in different ways by different people, and that doesn’t seem like a great idea. Here’s why I think it’s a problem.

• A. There are many lenses through which to understand the world. Science is just one lens, and it can’t be applied to all aspects of our world. When it can, it’s exceptionally powerful as a way of understanding, predicting, and controlling what happens. Saying that something “is supported by science” is seen as a strong argument for whatever interpretation of the world is being offered.

• B. A is only true when science is properly deployed. I don’t just mean that experiments are well conducted, data properly analyzed and so on. Education can draw on science by different methods, and those different methods justify different conclusions.

So…what are the different ways that science can be used (specifically as it applies to reading), and what sorts of conclusions are justified?

To start, there’s an important distinction between basic science and applied science. Basic science seeks to describe the world as it is. Applied science tries to change the world, not just describe it. It entails some goal. For example, physics is a basic science that describes how things move and interact in the physical world. Civil engineering is an applied science that uses physics (and other basic sciences) in dealing with the design and construction of the built environment.

“The science of reading” can refer to:

1. the basic scientific effort to describe what is happening in the mind and brain of a proficient reader when they are reading or when they are learning to read. For example, we might note that there is abundant research on the characteristics of word representations that support reading comprehension, and conclude that we should try to build those representations in students; we take a basic science finding and use it to inspire an applied science goal.
That’s a fine idea, but it’s obviously incomplete. The research revealed something about the mental architecture of good readers, but not other components of that architecture that might interact with word representations, nor how those word representations came to be. In this scenario, basic research can be useful for inspiring goals or methods in an applied setting that we might not otherwise have considered, but there’s no guarantee those methods will work or even that the goal is useful.

2. Using scientific methods to compare the efficacy of different methods of teaching decoding, motivating students to read, improving comprehension, etc. For example, both the Pizza Hut Book It program and Accelerated Reader claim that their program boost reading motivation. These claims were not inspired by any finding from basic science—someone just thought the program was a good idea. We can evaluate the claim using experimental methods from science: we can compare the reading motivation of students who undergo Book It, Accelerated Reader, or neither.

In general, a sound conclusion from method #1 is very broad, but it’s uncertain. Basic scientific findings might (eventually) persuade you that, to be a good reader you must have robust word representations. That’s an important conclusion because it applies to all children. But it tells you nothing about what practices get you those representations.

A sound conclusion from #2 is narrow but certain. It can tell you that Book It doesn’t shift students’ reading motivation. That’s highly practical, but it applies to one use of one program.

David Daniel and I introduced another way to think about these two applications of science. Method #1 can lead to “must haves.” These are principles of learning, motivation, emotion, etc., that are so foundational you can’t ignore them. We compared these to vitamins, minerals, etc. that make up a healthy diet. Examples of “must haves” in education might be “practice is necessary for proficiency of mental processes,” or “domain knowledge is necessary for critical thinking.”

Method #2 leads to “could dos.” To continue the analogy, these might be foods that are rich in important vitamins and minerals. Nothing says you have to eat them, but they are known, proven ways to get something important. Examples in education might be using retrieval practice to commit domain knowledge to memory, or cycling between concrete and abstract examples to more quickly understand deep concepts.

So when we talk about the science of reading, it’s important to consider why a finding or claim is considered scientific. If we’re talking about basic science, it might be a “must have” but only if we’re convinced of its centrality to reading. Otherwise, the finding might be an inspiration for something to try that we hope will improve instruction.

If the scientific finding under discussion is an application—something we’re testing to see if it improves some aspect of reading—then it might tell us whether a particular practice is more useful than some comparator, in a certain context. With enough research we might be convinced that it could take the status of a “could do,” that is, a generally useful tactic for a particular purpose.

To close, let’s briefly consider what the science of reading is supposed to make people do. I’ve noted that, in my opinion, scientific findings have lead to some “must haves”—things that, given some goal, you really can’t forgo. Those must-haves typically leave flexibility of teaching practice. The “must have” is in the student’s mind, not in the teacher’s actions. For example, fluency is a “must have” for reading, and reading is essential to develop fluency. That says nothing about how to get kids to do a lot of reading, just as knowing that calcium is needed for health doesn’t commit you to eating any particular food.

At the same time, the “could dos” could be relevant here. If there is a type of teaching practice that’s been shown to be effective in moving towards a goal, then using one that has not been shown effective with the same goal in mind might be defended, but I think it would call for some justification. You don’t have to drink milk to get your calcium, but if your replacement is cotton candy, you have some explaining to do.