Scholarship in the field of instructional design and technology has traditionally emphasized theory. Theories are viewed as the principal mechanisms for advancing research and understanding; and to the extent that a well-supported (though evolving) theoretical base is achieved, the field can put forward terms and concepts for clear communication, provide taxonomies and organizational schemes, promote new lines of thought and inquiry, advance knowledge, and generate ideas that inform practice—all crucial aspects of a scholarly undertaking in education (Driscoll 2000; Reigeluth 1999; Seels 1997).

Much discussion about theory has focused on different kinds of theory and the roles that various forms of theorizing might play. For example, Reigeluth’s distinction between descriptive and prescriptive theory (1983, 1999), and similar conceptions such as Richey’s (1986) distinction between conceptual and procedural theory, have become nearly axiomatic and tend to inform discussions of what theory is and what various types look like. More recent analyses, such as Gibbons and Rogers’ (2009) distinction among instructional theory, design theory, and instructional design theory, compare the functions of various types of theoretical resources and clarify the kinds needed to advance work in the field. Over time, such efforts have yielded a host of theories and principles for designing instruction in various domains (e.g., Driscoll 2000; Jonassen and Land 2000; Reigeluth 1983, 1999). This body of work stands as an important contribution to scholarship in the field.

A closely related topic that has received less disciplinary attention, however, concerns actual applications of theory by practitioners. Although a primary purpose of theory construction is to provide conceptual tools for improving instructional design practice, this aspect of work in the field is often overlooked in favor of less applied concerns such as creating more theories or discussing the kinds that should be made available. Thus, while there is no dearth of discussion regarding what different theories might look like and what functions they might perform, there is relatively little research reporting what practicing instructional designers actually do (and don’t do) with theories of various types and how these conceptual tools are viewed by those who are expected to use them. More specifically, there is little exploration of how designers actually view formal theories and use them for various design tasks in context—such as organizing content, providing learner structure, and evaluating learning outcomes—either fully or partially, purely or eclectically, explicitly or implicitly, and so on. Perhaps just as important, there is little if any empirical exploration of why practicing instructional designers actually use (or don’t use) theories in a particular manner.

Extant studies of actual design practice have tended to focus on the ways that instructional designers spend their time in general (Cox and Osguthorpe 2003; Kenny et al. 2005) and make decisions in the design process (Nelson et al. 1988; Wedman and Tessmer 1993)—for example, studying novice problem solving (Kerr 1983) or comparing novices and expert problem solving strategies (Rowland 1992). In a related study, Visscher-Voerman and Gustafson (2004) qualitatively examined the variability with which traditional models involving analysis, design, development, implementation, and evaluation (ADDIE) were used, but did not expand to other models or to theories in general. While this developing area of research has offered useful insight and helped clarify the nature of design work, none of these studies offered a detailed examination of how designers actually view theory in general and apply particular theories in their work.

One exception to this trend in the literature was provided by Christensen and Osguthorpe (2004) who, in a survey of practicing designers, showed that certain well-known instructional design theories or models were reported to be used with greater frequency than others (three most frequently cited were Gagne’s instructional events model, Merrill’s component display theory, and the Dick and Carey model); and that certain kinds of learning theories (i.e., constructivist) were reported to be more widely used or endorsed than others (cognitive and behavioral). While this research provided some indication of how often certain theories are used, it did not broach the more complex topics of why and how theories are used. A more detailed understanding of designers’ practical involvement with theories—that is, how designers tend to view and use theories (if at all) is still not available in the literature.

Although theory utilization has not received substantial attention, there is reason to believe that this topic is no less important than theory construction, theory testing, and other traditional academic concerns. Theories—sometimes referred to as “soft” technologies—are often seen as aids for explaining the world and taking appropriate action to solve problems and design solutions. Indeed, we refer in this report to theories functioning as conceptual tools, highlighting their role in guiding practice and aiding solutions to problems encountered in design work. It is questionable, however, whether practitioners appropriate theories in that instrumental fashion—is their power under-utilized in design situations?

According to some observers, instructional designers often find formal theories of learning and instruction to be irrelevant, too difficult and abstract to apply, or only occasionally useful. Rowland (1992), for instance, contended that theory, being “impractical and unrealistic” (p. 67), actually lags behind practice and the continued development of expert practitioner knowledge. Wedman and Tessmer (1993) argued that many assumptions underlying current ID models are incompatible with the demands of real-world work situations, and decried the “inflexibility of such models in adapting to design practice” (p. 53). Bichelmeyer et al. (2006) asserted that “practitioners face struggles that result from the lack of congruity between theory, research, and practice in IDT” (p. 34). And Reigeluth expressed concern that “many people avoid and denigrate theories” (1997, p. 42) even though theories, models, and principles seem inescapable in design work.

Although these informal observations regarding theory and practice (among many others in the literature) have not been substantiated by research into designers’ practical involvement and lived experience with theories of learning and instruction, there is clearly an uneasiness about the applicability of theories and other conceptual tools in everyday design work. Resolving this concern in one way or another—for example, demonstrating that theorizing is not beset with these difficulties after all, showing how theory could be better integrated into practice, or identifying areas where theorizing can be improved—would seem important in a discipline that aims to link the basic study of learning and cognition with educational applications. Without such resolution, the field is unlikely to offer theories that contribute to practice; even the most insightful theorizing will be of limited value if it cannot be made to do so.

In some ways, this subject is complex and challenging to study. As we stated earlier, intensively exploring views and actual uses of theory in context is not the same thing as counting the number of times practitioners report using different theories in some way or another. Our question regarding theory use points to highly situational thought and action on the part of designers, and calls for an inquiry approach capable of providing detailed, contextual investigations of designers’ experiences and activities as they attempt to use these conceptual tools. The products of their design work should also figure into such investigation, since they are, in a sense, the instantiation of the ways practitioners think about and engage in their craft. Design-based research strategies (Design-based Research Collective 2003) offer useful resources for iteratively studying theory-driven design processes in context, but they do not explore everyday design practices as they naturally unfold. A more authentic means of studying this topic comes in the form of “naturalistic inquiry” (Lincoln and Guba 1985), which emphasizes the qualitative study of phenomena as they exist naturally in the world, without intervention on the part of theorist-researchers—in essence, providing a study of everyday theory use.

Given our interest in designers’ practical involvement with conceptual tools such as theories, and given our commitment to a “naturalistic” examination of this phenomenon, we frame our general research question as follows: What is the nature of instructional designers’ practical involvement with formalized theories? This general question encompasses a set of sub-questions we sought to specifically address, including: (a) How do theories tend to be viewed by designers? (b) What functions are theories commonly used to perform? and (c) What (if anything) hinders the use of theory in design work?

Answers to these questions can help facilitate practice by describing how designers view and apply (or don’t apply) theories and by possibly identifying potential problems with formalized theories in the contexts of practice—that is, problems with the very manner in which formal theories are constructed and disseminated. Such research can lead to better understandings of practice, facilitate the use of formal theories of learning and instruction, provide a deeper understanding of the limits of formal theories, foster the development of more applicable theory, and possibly help inform the training of instructional designers.

Method

Study overview

Our study was designed to yield an interpretive understanding of instructional designers’ views of theory and experiences using it. We utilized an inquiry strategy informed by hermeneutic (Fleming et al. 2003; Kvale 1996; Westerman 2004), phenomenological (Giorgi and Giorgi 2003), and ethnographic (Spradley 1979) approaches. Our primarily hermeneutic framework led us to a research procedure emphasizing practices (i.e., everyday experiences with work activities, equipment, and conceptual tools) and meanings associated with them (reflections on matters of significance, concerns, values, etc.). In this vein, we employed a set of semi-structured interviews, including discussions of artifacts (i.e., examining actual online courses, learning modules, etc.), to explore the way designers go about their practical duties, use tools, and think about their work. We used specific interview and data-analysis techniques from phenomenology and ethnography (some interviewing and data analysis techniques) to facilitate our effort to engage participants in thoughtful reflection and to analyze data in a careful and consistent manner. Together, these related approaches enabled us to address our specific questions while working within institutional constraints (e.g., limited time on site and limited access to artifacts and participants disallowed a more traditional ethnographic investigation).

Our inquiry approach was intended to provide interpretive and negotiated accounts, based partly on participants’ involvement in the study and partly on our own involvement with participants. In this regard, our results and conclusions constitute a shared understanding between researchers and participants (for more on shared understandings in research, see Kvale 1996). Given our methodological framework, we sought to identify evocative themes and generate useful insights regarding practical involvement with theory. Inquiry of this sort strives toward “transferability” (Lincoln and Guba 1985, p. 124), or more specifically, the formulation of data-based interpretations that can be transferred by others into new situations and applied in contextually sensitive ways. In a similar vein, inquiry of this sort seeks to foster “naturalistic generalization” (Stake 1995)—that is, insight into the activities and situations of life (including design work) through an examination of one’s own experience and the experiences of others. Both transferability and naturalistic generalization are facilitated by in-depth descriptions that allow readers to gain a vicarious sense of the experiences investigated. Thus, we strived to generate an experiential data set and from that data set, identify themes and meta-themes that are particularly relevant to our research purposes.

Participants

We attempted to represent some of the diversity of the field through purposive sampling. Our sample included seven participants—three women and four men—drawn from three states in the western United States. One participant worked in a high-volume design organization, two worked in a custom design company, one worked in a university instructional design center, two produced highly technical training (as well as other types) as in-house designers for a laboratory-based organization, and one worked as an in-house designer for a technology corporation. Our focus on thick description and intensive analysis prohibited a more expansive sampling procedure and investigation. Other areas from which to sample (e.g., military, police, public schools, etc.) could also provide a wealth of relevant information. Nonetheless, we viewed our sampling strategy as providing a glimpse into major segments of the field of instructional design.

Because a practitioner’s training likely has a significant impact on their views and uses of theory, we included some participants who had formal training in instructional design and some who did not. Of our seven participants, four were formally trained (i.e., had master’s degrees) in instructional design (ID). Three were informally trained; two of these three had business or corporate education degrees with on-the-job ID training, and one had a master’s degree in organizational development with on-the-job ID training. One also had a Ph.D. in a natural science field. All participants indicated that they spend at least 75% of their time in design-related activities (designing, delivering, and evaluating instruction; meeting with clients; etc.).

Interview procedure

To gain an adequate understanding our participants’ work experiences, we conducted three semi-structured interviews with each participant (three interviews is fairly common in this type of research; e.g., Seidman 1998). While one interview would not offer sufficient exposure to our phenomena of interest, three allowed us to delve into topics fairly intensively and explore relevant issues. It became clear, through the data collection process, that participants would be unable to commit to additional intensive interviews beyond the three originally planned (though they agreed to participate in member checking). The three interviews were generally guided by our hermeneutic concern with practical involvement as well as reflection on it. From the ethnographic tradition (Spradley 1979), however, we employed the idea of broad questioning at first and then narrowing down to more specific topics in later stages.

Interviews were always conducted on separate days. The duration of the interviews varied, but most lasted approximately an hour. One exception to this schedule involved a participant who was interviewed only twice. In this case, the interviewer was still able to gain an adequate sense of the participant’s work experiences and obtain a satisfactory measure of insight regarding the participants’ views of theory and theory use. While we explored views of theory (and theory use) with participants, we explicitly avoided quizzing them on the breadth and depth of their theoretical knowledge. Not only was this topic somewhat afield from our primary research interest (though related), our pilot research suggested that questioning participants in this way could easily lead to defensiveness on their part (e.g., uncomfortable being “tested” by academic researchers) and invite them to appear more theoretically inclined or sophisticated than actually is the case. We audio recorded all interview sessions for each participant. After data collection, we transcribed interviews according to a pre-determined protocol that offered rules for conducting the transcription process, thereby providing a common format for all transcripts.

Not all participants were interviewed by the same person; five were interviewed by one member of the research team and two were interviewed by another. However, for each participant, all three interviews were conducted by the same interviewer. Our use of two interviewers who did not follow a well-ordered schedule of questions led to unstandardized (though semi-structured) interviews with somewhat different tone and content (only slightly different in some cases). This approach brought both limitations and benefits. While it did not lend itself to a systematic investigation of identical issues by both interviewers, it allowed for exploration of designer experiences in different ways, generating a richer data set to interpret.

In the first interview, we queried broadly into participants’ background, everyday work experiences, and practical involvement in the design process. We asked questions such as: “Why did you enter the field?” “How did you become an instructional designer?” “How long have you been doing instructional design and in what settings?” and “Tell me about a recent project you worked on; describe the experience from beginning to end.” The purpose of this interview was to gain a general sense of the designer’s lived work experience and context, from their own perspective. At the end of the first interview, we invited participants to send us instructional artifacts they had created (via e-mail) if possible, so we could examine them and prepare questions in advance of the following two interviews. Although the interviewers examined these artifacts prior to their next interview when possible, they did not analyze or categorize them according to a specified protocol or artifact analysis procedure.

In the second interview, we asked specific questions about the participants’ uses and views of formal theories. Since we were interested in any use of formal design theories and related resources (learning theories, instructional theories, process models, etc.), we defined this concept very broadly for participants. During this interview, we used the artifacts they sent us to prompt and query participants and to allow them to clarify how they used theory in their work. (If they did not send us artifacts in advance, we examined them during the interview.) Our intention, in using artifacts this way, was to have participants show us evidence of having used a theory and describe the process of applying it. To further prompt participants to think about their possible theory use, we invited them to discuss the project they provided us (i.e., the artifact requested in session one) by asking questions such as: “Tell me about this course, including why it was made, who the audience was, what stakeholders were involved, what situational constraints existed, etc.” We also asked “How indicative is this of your work as a designer?” We then tried to connect the participants’ project with theory use by asking questions such as: “Tell me why you designed the course this way. What procedures, processes, strategies, theories, or principles did you use? Why did you choose this combination of features? What guided your decision making?” Finally, we asked general questions regarding theory use such as, “What do you think of theory in general?” “What guides the selection of theories for certain tasks?” and “Could your training with theory have been more helpful?”

In the third interview we addressed unresolved issues and queried into relevant topics that emerged in the prior interviews. We also gave participants an opportunity to comment on the prior interviews, add anything they wanted to, and respond to tentative themes (in the form of short statements) that we identified earlier in the process. Our aim in the third interview was to ensure that we had obtained a rich description of participants’ work experience and views.

Data analysis procedure

As in many qualitative studies, our data analysis focused on the identification of key themes in participants’ responses. As stated earlier, we primarily employed a hermeneutic form of data condensation and thematic analysis (Fleming et al. 2003; Kvale 1996), supplemented by techniques from phenomenology (Giorgi and Giorgi 2003) and ethnography (Spradley 1979) that aided in the process of organizing data into meaningful units. This process entailed the following steps: (1) reading all transcripts for a sense of the whole and looking for preliminary topics of relevance; (2) refining these preliminary topics into more formal themes and meta-themes and then organizing them into an overall thematic structure; (3) selecting illustrative quotes from the transcripts to exemplify themes developed in step 2, while continuing to refine the overall thematic structure; (4) comparing and contrasting themes to look for connections among them; (5) considering each theme and meta-theme in light of the whole; (6) considering the whole in light of each theme and meta-theme; and (7) examining the coherence of the overall thematic structure. It is important to note that we did not rigidly follow these steps in sequence throughout the process and often backtracked or performed several steps simultaneously.

To offer a more expansive and informative set of themes and conclusions, we conducted a type of co-interpretation where two members of the research team separately analyzed the data (both according to the procedure described above). Through this initial data analysis, we noted some redundancies in the two analyses and some complementary or synergistic findings. We did not encounter any strong contradictions. One of the team members who analyzed the data (first author) integrated the two sets of themes into a single thematic structure and then received and incorporated feedback from other members of the research team, including the team member who performed the other initial data analysis.

Trustworthiness

Throughout the data collection and data analysis we sought to produce trustworthy results by utilizing well-accepted qualitative standards designed to ensure that we treated the data as fairly as possible (Lincoln and Guba 1985). These procedures included peer debriefing, persistent observation, triangulation, member checking, negative case analysis, progressive subjectivity checks, and dependability/confirmability audits.

Researcher background and positioning

Our research team was composed of four doctoral-level professionals in the field (all working in academic institutions at the time) and one graduate student (now graduated with a doctoral degree). One of the researchers was trained in psychology, one in evaluation, and three in instructional design. As a team, we saw this study as falling within the interpretive, hermeneutic tradition (e.g., Dreyfus and Dreyfus 1986; Heidegger 1962; Taylor 1985; Westerman 2004) which emphasizes the production of rich, yet perspectival and contextually bound, results regarding lived experience and practice in the form of themes and insights. As we framed our research questions, designed our method, and formulated our data analysis procedure, we made several related assumptions regarding our participants and the situations in which they work—in short, that participants (and designers qua people in general) are volitional agents, typically acting on the basis of tacit knowledge and pre-reflective awareness, engaged in meaningful contexts of work, and not, generally speaking, objects to be predicted and controlled, either through the inquiry process or in life in general. In light of these views, we see theory and technology as means to ends—that is, as tools that help fulfill human purposes, but also tools that should be carefully used, monitored, and critically examined in the process.

Results

Because of the richness of this data set, we identified a variety of potential themes. In determining themes to specifically address, we applied several guidelines. Those that related most directly to the research questions of the study received first priority. Of these, themes that appeared to have the greatest potential to cast new light on existing research were selected. Also, when justified by our interpretations of the data, we developed themes in ways that contradicted some of our preconceptions. Illustrative quotes were selected on the basis of their clarity and representativeness of the themes in question. Pseudonyms were used for all participants whose quotes were included in this report. We slightly revised some quotes to create smoother flow and grammatical correctness, and to keep responses as anonymous as possible; none of these changes altered participants’ meanings, as suggested by our member checks. Ultimately, our results included ten themes regarding practitioners’ views of theory and theory use organized according to three meta-themes.

Meta-theme 1: Using theory

Participants shared their overall view of theory as an aid to their design work, identified how they tended to use theories in general, and described ways that particular theories were helpful in certain circumstances. Discussing and analyzing actual courses and other learning resources designed by participants offered a useful means of understanding the ways that theory was used. Although participants did not endorse all aspects of the theories they referenced, they generally viewed theory as helpful (or potentially helpful). This meta-theme suggests that theories were not widely condemned as irrelevant or worthless, and thus provides some counter-evidence to the claim that theory is of little value or widely ignored by practitioners.

Theme 1: Theory as a decision making tool or source of ideas

Practitioners expressed a wide range of responses to formal theories of learning and instruction. Some were strong advocates of particular theoretical approaches. Others were skeptical of the quality of research that supports theoretical assertions in the field of education. Some felt that theory could, at times, actually interfere with good instructional design. But even our most critical participants said that generating and testing theory were useful activities; and they commonly affirmed the notion that theories can help guide decision making and be a source of ideas in the design process. Consider Camille, who reported using theory every day:

Interviewer::

So what do you think of theory in general? Do you find it useful?

Camille::

Incredibly useful, yeah, absolutely.

Interviewer::

Do you feel like you use it every day?

Camille::

Absolutely, everyday. Theories are incredibly important and I couldn’t do this without the theories.

From participants’ comments about the sources of theories, it became clear that those from outside the field of instructional design were viewed as favorably as those from within the field. For example, Camille said that her background in marketing and technical writing help her significantly as an instructional designer, as do principles from related fields.

Camille::

…we do draw from different areas, different fields. You can use the learning theories, socio-cultural or constructivist, but there’s also gaming theories, graphic design, and web-design… So there’s a variety of fields you take from to make things interesting, palatable, and meaningful, so they sink in.

However, the influence of designer theory use was not always obvious in the surface features of instructional artifacts. That participants were trying to use theory (at least in some points in the design process) was obvious through our discussions with them; but the ways theory was used, and the difference it made in instruction, were not always clear upon initial inspection. When participants were asked to demonstrate how they incorporated certain theories into their instructional products, they could do so, which offered some support for their claim to be using theory in their work. However, it was clear, as we analyzed and discussed their artifacts, that design involved many factors beyond theory (e.g., templates, clients’ requests, expert guidance). We also observed that often participants were able to indicate how they used theory in a particular design artifact only after careful reflection; and sometimes participants had to change the artifact they presented to us in order to find a clear example of a theory being applied.

Theme 2: Theory as a form of sense making

Participants indicated that they use theory to make sense of complex design situations. Theory, used this way, provided a perspective for interpreting, categorizing, and explaining the intricacies of instructional design. Participants observed that a main contribution of theory is to provide an orderly account of disparate yet related phenomena, which then provides a scheme for understanding a given situation and taking action. When queried as to whether and why theory underlies good instruction, Chris stated:

…usually theory is a series of thoughts sort of strung together that makes something logical and make it sensible. Without that, it’s kind of hard to do anything. It seems logical in many ways.

Participants also reported that these theory-based understandings are helpful in determining future steps. In a sense, theory provided a frame of reference (sometimes implicit) for understanding and making decisions. Yvette, for example, spoke of using theory to help break content down into strategically useful parts, once she has gained an overall understanding of the situation.

Yvette::

If I’m analyzing the content, what I’m thinking after I read the content is ‘Okay what kind of knowledge is this?’ Then I start kind of separating the knowledge. Those are the principles, those are the concepts and based on how I categorized them, then I can come up with my strategies. Okay how do you teach these concepts? How do you teach principles? That’s the theory, basically. I try to use the theory to help me understand better, to help me come up with better strategies.

As we interviewed participants it became apparent that they could, to some degree, reconstruct their process of using theory to help make sense of situations and decide upon further action. Participants named theoretical resources such as Bloom’s Taxonomy, Merrill’s Component Display Theory, and Reigeluth’s Elaboration Theory as helpful in performing this function. From this perspective, theory—when understood well enough to be applied—offers a practical guide for interpreting situations before design decisions are made.

Theme 3: Theory as an argumentative device

This theme involved designers’ use of theories to defend decisions and justify use of certain pedagogical approaches. As participants suggested, theories can lend a type of legitimacy to design decisions. Matt articulated this use of theory as follows:

Matt::

I think theory comes in handy as sort of a credential (laughs). Like if you have a feeling that this should be done this way, but if you have trouble convincing people, then you bring up the theory and it sounds more valid and you can convince them. And people who don’t have the theory background may not be able to do that.

However, designers reporting this type of theory use would usually do so only when challenged in some way; referencing theory for every design decision was not a routine part of their work. Eric, for example, stated the following:

Interviewer::

… Do you ever pull out your theory books and review…?

Eric::

You know, the one theory book that I really, really like, I can’t find (Laughs)…

Interviewer::

So that’s the one book where if you had it—

Eric::

Well, yeah. (Laughs) Because I keep wanting to go back to defend decisions I’ve made, ‘Look at this,’ Somebody calls me on something, ‘Well look, this says that.’

When we asked other participants if they explained or defended their work with theory, not every designer concurred. Michelle, for example, did not remember being challenged in this way and did not mention using to theory to defend design decisions. So, while participants differed somewhat on the importance of this strategic use of theory, it suggests, at least, an interesting possibility for some designers.

Theme 4: Theoretical eclecticism

Participants felt free to use whatever theories seemed appropriate or helpful in a given situation. Theoretical consistency was rarely a concern; rather, theory selection and uses were based on the unique circumstances and constraints encountered within the design process. Parts of different theories could be applied in the same situation in ways that fit the context and allowed participants to achieve desirable outcomes, suggesting a “toolbox” approach to theory use. A remark by Camille was typical in this regard:

Interviewer::

How do you view theories? Like, do you sort of stick to one theory?

Camille::

No, no, no. It’s a toolbox. For whatever you’re doing, you use the tool that works. And so I use different theories for this [course designed for children] than I did for other courses. I definitely think there are some generalities that apply no matter what you’re doing, but you use the tool that works best for that job and use it to get the ideas across.

Other participants agreed that any single theory is limited and offers more or less help than others in a given situation, which creates a need for a diversity of conceptual tools. As Michelle stated:

Interviewer::

Are there limitations to these theories? Or could [they] be improved?

Michelle::

Oh yeah, I definitely think that’s probably one of the reasons why we use a toolbox and we pull from the best of each from different theories. Whatever fits best, because they all have, I think, room for improvement.

Participants also mentioned that knowing about multiple theories helps free them to think creatively about design and avoid rigid use of certain approaches that may not always be helpful. When referring to designers who are not familiar with different theories, Matt asserted:

But it could also be a handicap, too, because the people without the theoretical background tend to fall back exclusively on the way things have been done in traditional—like, ‘Well, I’ve seen training and it always has these pieces. So I always just fill in the blanks.’ And they might not think about different approaches.

With this eclectic thrust came a lack of differentiation among theory types, most notably, between descriptive and prescriptive theorizing commonly recognized in the scholarly literature. Participants did not spontaneously draw this or similar distinctions and tended to present a view of theory use not particularly sensitive to the categorizations, taxonomies, and nuanced distinctions of academic researchers. From our participants’ perspectives, virtually all theory seems abstract and thus useable only in the eclectic ways that they have described, irrespective of type.

Across participants, then, eclecticism appeared to be the obvious way to use the wide array of theories available. And when queried about the influence of multiple theories in their specific design artifacts, designers could show us how and why they incorporated parts of different theories into their work to some degree; but, as indicated above, it usually took some effort on their part to do so. Thus, claims of being eclectic were supported by our examinations and discussions of design artifacts.

Meta-theme 2: Struggling with theory

Participants also mentioned difficulties they encountered when using, attempting to use, or learning about formal theories. This meta-theme points not only to possible shortcomings of the theories available, but also to situational obstacles that can hinder the wider implementation of theories in practice. Specific themes suggested some basis for the claim that theories are often too academic and not used as widely as they could be.

Theme 5: Theory too abstract and inapplicable

Participants observed that theories tend to be abstract, complex, and often inapplicable for instructional design. They often struggled to see how abstract representations provided by theories fit contextual design problems and offer practical assistance. As Richard argued:

Richard::

I love theories. I love to hear the theories. But then I always want—’Give me an application. Tell me how your theory is applied’…I need to create a training—a learning experience. And if I can’t figure out how to get your theory applied to my classroom or my lab or my on-the-job training, then it does me no good.

At times, participants straightforwardly described theory as abstract and disconnected from actual design work:

Interviewer::

So, did you feel like your lack of seeing places to apply the theory is a weakness of the theory itself? Do you think the theory didn’t anticipate the practicalities of the world enough? Or—what’s the issue?

Matt::

Um, somewhat, I guess—I mean, I think a lot of theories kind of go off into Never-neverland and are just totally unrelated to the real world… But yeah, when I read ID theory now…it’s like, ‘Ok, that’s kind of interesting, but it really just exists in its own abstract universe.’

Not surprisingly, then, participants suggested that theories are valuable to the extent that they make a practical difference in actual design work. Richard mentioned that he often failed to see how theories result in a different process than what is already in place or how they lead to different outcomes. When discussing a seminar led by a scholar in the field, he stated:

Richard::

He was trying to use his theory, and I kept saying, I don’t see how—I couldn’t see how his theory stood out from anything else that I was familiar with. When you have a new theory and you want to apply it, I say, ‘Give me an example so I can see the difference.’

A dominant issue for participants, then, was that theories must be distinguishable from one another in a practical sense and be able to implement with relative ease. If these goals are not met, then—from the perspective of these practitioners at least—the promise of theory in general is very limited or non-existent. (Interestingly, this theme appears to contradict our earlier themes regarding uses of theory, an issue we address in our discussion.)

Theme 6: Against unexamined or rigid theory use

Participants generally resisted the idea that theories should be used automatically or unreflectively; and in conjunction with comments regarding eclecticism (reported in theme 4 above), participants thought that rigid theory use would lead to inferior products and outcomes. As Eric noted: “Strict adherence to some theory isn’t going to necessarily improve the learning.”

Another participant suggested that theory can be an obstacle to good instructional design, especially when rigid adherence to a single theory characterizes the design process:

Matt::

I think there’s a certain amount of just doing what’s appropriate for the content and being flexible. And I think that—taking the content and molding it around a theory often doesn’t work that well.

Interviewer::

Have you seen situations where people become enamored with a theory and put it above—?

Matt::

Well, maybe in the extreme, somebody, like in my training [names a particular theorist-researcher]…I think his theory kind of just warped everything into this one mold.

Rigid theory use was rejected because specific situations often demand flexible and nuanced tailoring of process, and no single theory or perspective offers all of the ideas and techniques needed. Good design practice demands at least some knowledge of various theories and how they can be strategically used in context. Indeed, as we suggested in theme 4 (regarding eclectic use of theory), practitioners tend to see little if any basis for a single theoretical orientation and view a “toolbox” approach as more likely to produce effective instruction.

Theme 7: Situational constraints on theory use

Participants indicated that deadlines and other factors often limited the amount of time they spent learning and using theories. Matt related a story about planning to use a certain theoretical approach on a project, but was later told that the approach was not feasible given time and other constraints. Similarly, Richard suggested that he was unable to use strategies associated with certain theoretical approaches, or parts of certain theories, because others—clients or learners—did not favor what the approach entailed or had difficulty learning in ways afforded by the approach. He described one example of this resistance as follows:

Richard::

They don’t really even want to endure the experiential thing. What they tell me is, ‘Just show me on a piece of paper what I need to know and I’ll learn it. And don’t give me anything more and give me the test.’…Music is supposed to be helpful to get people to relax, to be expressive and certain groups will say, ‘Hey, that’s a good idea.’ And other groups will say, ‘No music. No games. Give me a PowerPoint presentation. Make it black and white, and can you do it tomorrow?’

Examples such as this suggest that resistance from learners (or gatekeepers to learners) can have a powerful influence on the final instructional product and lead to alterations in design approach, including the theoretical ideas applied.

Another designer pointed to lack of vision on the part of other company employees as a hindrance to innovation and effectiveness in general. When discussing this hindrance, he stated

Chris::

… there are people in the way…something that I call root-guarding. That’s where people guard the roots of tradition, you know, ‘It’s been this way.’… And there are short-sighted people who continue to be rewarded for short-term thinking…

Throughout his interviews Chris viewed innovation and progress as tied to free theoretical thinking, even though he claimed he was given little of this freedom in his everyday work. For example, he stated that some people need in organizations need to cultivate new ideas, even if they are not immediately applicable.

Chris::

It might be better to have this continuum of people who are on the far right…who don’t even think about theory, who are purely tactical…And then in the far left, you have people who are so theoretical, they couldn’t apply what they have to business…There are some people [at certain organizations] who are so theoretical and out there—and someone is protecting them. Someone’s valuing that.

For a variety of reasons—including time and budget constraints—designers also reported not keeping apprised of theoretical developments in the field. In contrast to most of the other participants, however, Richard’s organization has a vigorous professional development program. His organization pays full tuition for employees to seek advanced degrees in instructional design at universities in the area. They have also introduced an internal professional development program. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that this time is spent on learning about theory. Their program emphasizes practical competencies such as those provided by organizations like the American Society for Training and Development.

In summary, constraints on theory use, from the perspective of our participants, appeared to include factors that go beyond the typical cost and efficiency concerns. In this sense, innovating new forms of practice—including those driven by theory—can be curtailed by a lack of resources, but may also be hampered by others’ perceptions of the risk associated with new or untried theoretical ideas and related practices, or may be limited by the simple fact that practitioners have not been able to, or have not chosen to, keep apprised of theoretical innovations in the field.

Meta-theme 3: Intuition, craftwork, and theory use

Participants saw a need to develop their sense of the craft in instructional design work and not depend solely on technical processes, templates, and techniques. The sentiment seemed to be that good designers can adapt to situations and apply the skills and intuition they have developed over time to produce what is needed for clients and learners. Theory can facilitate this process in that it offers potentially useful ideas and helps shape intuition, tacit knowledge, and practical wisdom brought to bear on specific instructional problems.

Theme 8: The importance of intuition and judgment

Participants valued their own sense of what would work best in a given situation, even if this meant disregarding certain theoretical precepts. Among other things, participants referred to this sense as “intuition”—a type of useful tacit knowledge. As Yvette stated:

…it is great if you know the theories and you know how to apply them, but the other thing is kind of the intuition that you have to have. I don’t know how to teach that to people because you have to have that intuition—what to do in the situation…

Yvette went on to say that intuition can override theoretical concerns in an effort to create engaging instruction.

Yvette::

I know you have what we call the prescriptive theory of instructional design…but, at the same time, you need to have a feel—Okay what would work here, how can I design in a way that is, you know, don’t forget about motivation here, it should be engaging…

Whereas participants expressed a general reliance on intuitive sensitivity throughout the design process, Camille reported relying on it most heavily at the beginning of projects in order to understand what clients and learners need, how to select content, and so on. She suggested that intuition helps her understand how to select and present what will be most helpful to learners. As she stated, “…when I start defining the project, it’s maybe more intuitive, just trying to …draw from the client what they want. And what the goals are or should be.”

These quotes provide some illustration that designers in our study relied on personal judgment and intuition-like sense to help guide decisions in various stages of the design process. This theme suggests that participants did not see their work as following formulaically from scientific rationality or technical rules and logic. Indeed, participants tended to view instructional design as a type of craftwork that draws heavily on “intuition” and judgment.

Theme 9: The relationship between theory and intuition in craftwork

Participants suggested that, from their perspective, intuition and judgment often develop through experience, as they use theories in actual design projects. For these designers, theoretical ideas often become part of their tacit knowledge and practical wisdom, and are thus not explicitly recognized or considered when used; in a sense, the theoretical ideas become “internalized” and later drawn upon to make sense of situations and take action. Although most participants acknowledged this interplay between theory and intuition, the following comments by Camille offered perhaps the clearest indication:

Interviewer::

Are there some principles of instructional design that you use regularly?

Camille::

Yeah, just um, (sighs). You know, I can’t name things off (laughs) anymore. Interviewer: (laughs) And I don’t expect you to—

Camille::

And it’s kind of, I’m almost to the point where it’s more in my head. It’s not as accessible. When you become more—I don’t want to say I’m an expert, but when you become more expert than novice, you forget. It becomes just an intuitive process versus something you have to think about. I know there’s a word for that. (Laughs)

Interviewer::

Yeah, maybe internalize?

Camille::

Yeah, it’s much more internalized.

From this perspective, theories might be viewed as neither prescriptive instructions to be carefully followed nor descriptions of how things are, but as conceptual resources that facilitate practice in this less direct way. This connection between theory and intuition in practice also arose when Yvette stated that training should not be expected to teach all that is needed in unique and complex design situations and that much of what designers do needs to be learned on the job through experience with projects and involvement with co-workers. This is true of theory use as well, in that designers will need to learn how to apply theories on the job. However, it seems reasonable that formal training should provide at least some foundation for on-the-job skill learning. One exchange with Eric suggested that although it may be difficult to train designers for all aspects of professional work, some advances could be made, for example, teaching a course that introduces instructional design students to problems often encountered on the job and that suggests skills for handling them

As another participant noted, a background in theory can help designers be more flexible and creative in their attempts to solve problems and make decisions:

Chris::

If you teach the theory and then follow it up with the application, then you have power. If you could teach one or the other, to a lesser degree than you should, you don’t have power. Because if you just teach application, they can’t apply it next time. They’ve got to have the background, the thinking behind it so that they can take it to the next situation they come into or so that they can tweak it in a different way and not lose the impact and the power of the theories behind it.

Comments of this sort appear to contradict the earlier point made by Richard regarding the strong need for application. However, Richard also agreed that theory per se was important, given that theory informs applications in the first place. In this sense, Richard’s view supports the notion that theory training combined with study of applications and practical experience offers a formula for effective design work.

Theme 10: Theory and the role of templates

Participants tended to favor template use, in that it helps increase efficiency, but also saw templates as limiting. As one participant observed:

Yvette::

Some courses are more templatized. They use a lot of templates. Of course, we tried to design them up front [to be] instructionally sound, but still, any template has limitations. So you are kind of limited with what you can do with a template.

However, participants also suggested that templates often need to be modified or disregarded so they do not constrain creative design processes and squelch intuition and practical wisdom. Interpreted in the context of other comments about the value of theory and intuition, there appears to be an interaction between templates and these non-technical aspects of designer skill. For example, Yvette went on to state:

We can just slightly change a function and you can kind of get a different type of a template. So as a designer as I was working with those templates, my goal was with every course to create something that would be different, that would be creative. How can I change this template to make it work the way I want it to? …We were kind of playing games here with my peers. ‘Do you know which template this is?’ ‘No, I can’t even recognize this template.’

Another participant also suggested that template use does not rule out creative design:

Michelle::

The templates create kind of a–they’re actually called [a certain name]. But there’s HTML code behind that. So all the creativity is not out, because you can create your new pages and you can bring a little video clip in there if you want to…You can bring in different things. So the creativity is not all gone.

As evidenced from these quotes, participants did not talk about templates as the primary mechanism driving design, and they did not appear to use them in an overly standard or rigid way. According to participants, templates can be used flexibly in the process of instructional design, particularly when operating under time constraints, but should not be relied on exclusively or unreflectively. As explicitly suggested by some participants, there can be no technical, efficiency-based solution to many instructional problems; designers often need to use intuition, judgment, and creativity as they proceed. Understandings of theory, then, can then be used flexibly to aid in this process.

Discussion

This study shed some light on designer views and reported uses of theory. As suggested by our first meta-theme (“Using Theory”), participants reported that they value and try to apply, at least to some degree, learning and instructional design theories in their work. They seemed to appreciate theory as a means of sense-making, a collection of useful ideas, a rhetorical device, or a mental checklist to consider as they work. Put briefly, our participants desire to use theory and report that they often do. When asked to demonstrate how they actually used these conceptual tools in everyday practice, they were generally able to provide instances. That it took some effort on the part of designers to reconstruct a design process and identify how a certain theory contributed to the final product may be related to the other factors influencing design. In the end, however, the influence of theories in design could be identified by participants. This finding seems inconsistent with previous observations that there is little interest in formal theory by practicing designers (e.g., Reigeluth 1997).

Nonetheless, some or much of the potential of theory appears to have gone unfulfilled for designers in our study. As suggested by our second meta-theme (“Struggling with Theory”), theories are often viewed as overly abstract, rigid, or complex, and come with relatively little guidance regarding application. As a result, our participants expressed ambivalence toward theory. They were generally favorable toward it and saw some uses, but were either disappointed or frustrated when they could not apply it more readily. The tendency of participants to reject theories that seem impractical may offer insight into the origin of the view that practitioners ignore or reject theory. Participants in our study clearly expressed a struggle in this regard.

While theory can have a significant impact on the design approach of practitioners, the range of theories they choose to apply are likely to be limited to those that practitioners know about, understand how to apply, and find useful in their work. Each of these conditions leads to a restricted set of candidate theories. With the set of candidate theories thus restricted, practitioners may seldom identify theories that are actually useful in their specific setting, even if a helpful theory exists. Further research into the training of instructional designers could explore ways that theories are taught and not only describe possible limitations of such training, but also suggest ways it might be enhanced to help designers attain a greater awareness of theory and its uses.

Interestingly, only one participant in our study distinguished between descriptive and prescriptive theories (Yvette), and did so not to emphasize the value and utility of prescriptive theories per se, but to underscore the importance of ignoring them, at least at times, on the basis of intuition and contextual factors. Moreover, participants did not distinguish between theories, models, and design processes in descriptions of their work, possibly suggesting that—given the abstractness and complexity of many of these conceptual tools—practicing designers are offered little basis for differentiating them and may lack the ability to select ones most suitable for their purposes. In this regard, further inquiry into the value of different kinds of theorizing (descriptive vs. prescriptive, etc.), ways that various conceptual tools may be used, and ways of improving these resources seems justified. Additional evidence regarding the usability of theory is needed to draw strong conclusions regarding how theorizing in the field should evolve (if at all). Ultimately, however, the general observation that theory is too abstract and detached from experience to be applicable—if corroborated—may serve as a call to theorists to develop more “user-friendly” theories that designers can more readily apply in practical situations.

There was also a fairly clear connection between the abstractness and inapplicability of theory on the one hand (theme 5), and the leaning away from theoretical purity toward eclecticism on the other (themes 4 and 6). In the case of our participants, it appears that when theories are viewed as too abstract, complex, or rigid to be usefully applied, the only practical alternative is choosing “what works” from various theories as situations seem to dictate. If this is so, then theory use would seem to be accompanied by the assumption that theories are inevitably this way (abstract, complex, rigid, etc.), and that there is little other recourse if theories are to be used at all. Given the abstractness of most theory, the stage seems to be set for eclecticism as a default strategy (see also Christensen and Osguthorpe 2004; Reigeluth 1997; Visscher-Voerman and Gustafson 2004) We also wish to note, however, that eclecticism is not a universally advocated position and has been questioned by some in the literature (e.g., Bednar et al. 1992; Hannafin et al. 1997; Yanchar and South 2009).

Some of the reported uses of theory offered new insight into the theory-practice connection. Using theory as an argumentative device (theme 3)—that is, as a means of defending, and perhaps persuading others to accept, certain practical decisions—is not currently addressed in the literature. But this finding suggests that at least some background in theory can bring a measure of legitimacy and professionalism to design decisions. Referencing theory, in this sense, can demonstrate an understanding of applicable ideas and plausible strategies that help guide the development of higher-quality instruction. Depending on the circumstances, referencing theory may or may not persuade clients or other members of a design team to take certain action, but having a rationale for design decisions based on theoretical knowledge, in conjunction with practical wisdom and accepted organizational processes, appears to offer a more complete basis for sound professional judgment. In this respect, however, the finding that theory use was sometimes hindered by others who did not see its value (clients or managers) or who did not like applications stemming from it (learners) was somewhat surprising (theme 7), and suggests that appeal to theory may not always be successful or advisable. The connection between these themes—theory as an argumentative device and resistance to theory—points to an interesting and often tension-filled aspect of instructional design work, namely, the process of negotiation whereby designers, developers, clients, and others arrive at an agreed upon and workable design plan. Further inquiry could offer insight into the role that theory might play in these negotiations and suggest how it tends to facilitate and/or hinder the process.

Treating theory as a means of sense-making (theme 4) is also yet to be addressed in the instructional design literature, but offers a compelling view of the role of theory in the design process, particularly when practitioners are adept at understanding how theories offer a vision for learner achievement in a given domain. From the perspective of practice theory (e.g., Taylor 1985; Yanchar and South 2009), for example, there is no strong distinction between practice and theory in the first place—both offer guidance for interpreting experience, taking action, and evaluating outcomes; thus, theory could offer helpful understandings of what has occurred in a given situation and suggest possible future action. Understanding why a certain learning environment was not successful, for instance, can be informed not only by practical wisdom and various types of empirical data, but also by theoretical knowledge that offers categories, concepts, and a frame of reference for interpreting the episode in question. While careful discussions of theoretical sense-making are not available in the literature, this concept offers an apparently important role for theory and a compelling area of study.

Participants also remarked that their decisions are often made on the basis of intuitive judgment and practical wisdom. This finding resonates with the observation by Rowland (1993) that “instructional design clearly involves rational and creative or intuitive thought processes” (p. 88) and is supported in the literature reviewed by Pieters and Bergman (1995) who found that expert instructional designers “rarely follow some specific pre-determined model, but instead design intuitively, reflectively, by considering alternative solutions in tandem” (p. 119). Perhaps not surprisingly, much of this judgment was not easily explicated. As others have noted (Polanyi 1962; Taylor 1985), people typically know more than they can articulate, and this inarticulate knowing provides much of the basis for skilled action (Dreyfus and Dreyfus 1986) and creativity (Root-Bernstein and Root-Bernstein 1999). Moreover, this tacit aspect of design practice was not a concern for participants; indeed, they valued their sense of what would be effective in a given situation, even if this meant violating a theoretical principle.

The relatively strong emphasis on intuitive judgment and practical wisdom, however, did not substantially reduce the value of theory for these designers. From many of their comments, it appears that a background in theory enlarged their wealth of practical wisdom, offered them a flexible array of ideas and techniques, and facilitated intuitive judgment, especially as theoretical precepts became integrated into “subsidiary awareness” (Polanyi 1962, p. 55)—that is, as they became part of tacit knowledge—and were used eclectically. In this regard, it might be hypothesized that intuition develops through experience over time, and that theory, as implicitly understood and used, contributes to a designer’s creative vision, mode of operation, and decision making ability. For example, as we already noted, most participants in our study tended not to think about their work in explicitly theoretical ways, and did not formally reference theory as a normal part of their duties, but would appeal to theory in order to defend design decisions and persuade others in favor of certain alternatives.

Theory cast in this role does not involve the use of well-defined techniques, processes, and models. Rather, it points to the relevance of theory in an additional, and indeed, perhaps less direct way: theory as a resource for facilitating professional growth, tacit knowledge, and identity development over time (i.e., what designers do, how they do it, how they think about design, etc.). Future research into designer intuition, including the ways it develops, is related to theory, and facilitates design work, could expand the field’s knowledge of everyday practice and possibly aid in the training of practitioners who possess a greater sensitivity to learner needs and optimal instruction in context. In this respect, designer training may also be facilitated by an exposure to theoretical resources in ways that allows students to learn about the affordances of specific theories in context and foster professional identity development based on persuasive theorizing of all sorts (e.g., theories of learning, cognition, instruction, human development, human nature, ethics) in addition to theoretical precepts in a more academic sense.

Limitations of the study

One limitation of this study involves our decision not to query participants regarding their theoretical knowledge in general. Because our research focus was on views and reported uses of theory, based on participant experience, we did not allocate time and energy to an intensive exploration of their knowledge base in this regard. As we stated above, quizzing them in this way was likely to create barriers to a genuine discussion of their experiences and possible struggles with theory. However, it seems sensible to assume a connection between what practitioners know about theory and how they are able to use it. Thus, future research may benefit from careful exploration of how practitioners learned about theories, how much they know about the theories they use and don’t use, and so forth, in order to better contextualize the findings accrued, and in order to draw connections between theory training and theory use.

Another limitation involves the basic inquiry approach we employed. Design practices marked by intuitive judgment and practical wisdom—although very practical and, perhaps, inescapable—are not easily researched. Professionals steeped in the practices of their field and standing on a foundation of extensive experience will rely on intuitive judgment and strategic shortcuts when possible; yet such practices render the basis of the decision-making process partially or entirely opaque to an observer and, in many cases, to the practitioners themselves. This opacity makes it difficult to know whether decisions made by intuition shortchange theory, rise above it, tacitly enact it, or something else. This is particularly problematic for researchers if intuition-based decisions characterize the majority of activities in everyday design work. Although we were able to formulate a number of themes regarding views and reported uses of theory based on our interviews and artifact analyses, our research strategy is only a first attempt at this subject matter and did not penetrate into the actual practices of theory use per se. Thus, we could not answer the important question of what designers actually do and think at the moment of decision as they use various theories. Although we believe that participant reflections on theory are a reasonable starting point for understanding this aspect of design work, the important task of corroborating these results and probing deeper into theory use in situ remains to be done.

In light of this concern, researchers studying practitioner decision making will require means beyond survey items and reflective interviews to understand the dynamics of design practice. Although our review of artifacts helped to contextualize and substantiate accounts, this approach was somewhat limited. Observing contrived cases of design work (e.g., Perez and Emery 1995; Rowland 1992) using methods like think-aloud protocols may create more immediacy in the observation, but this approach is also limited in that it imposes an artificiality that can distort or exclude the external influences and complex relationships that operate in the practitioner’s work environment.

Investigators could attempt to provide a more immediate and holistic account of instructional design practice using more naturalistic and ethnographic methods. Additionally, an intensive study of formal training environments and interviews with current instructional design students and their instructors could also provide triangulation and insight regarding the impact of training on the views and use of theory by practitioners. Lastly, theorists also deserve a voice in this discussion and future research could review accounts of their theories against practical criteria and attempt to interview the theorists themselves regarding practical applications of their work. Studying theory use in these ways can provide a glimpse into practice and offer insight, raise important issues, and generate questions not likely to be gained through other forms of inquiry. Addressing questions pertaining to practical involvement with conceptual tools, and explicating practitioner wisdom and skill, can facilitate efforts to move past the traditional dilemmas surrounding theory and practice and open new vistas for related research.