Reviewer’s Introduction
This is a collection of essays about “theoretical perspectives” of Intensive Interaction, a practice and a “method” for communicating, primarily with people with autism and Learning Difficulties.There is a lack of cohesion in the theoretical perspectives presented. This is probably because Intensive Interaction is actually simply a practice. The attempt to locate it in theory seems to have come after the development of the practice. Even “how it works”, (it does about 99% of the time according to Phoebe Caldwell’s experience [1]) cannot be answered since that would, in turn, depend on an explanation of what is or what causes “autism” and there is no scientific consensus on this. For the record, while there is no biological test for autism and it thus remains a condition which cannot be separated from social context, this reviewer is satisfied that there is some regularly occurring issue which leads to very characteristic autistic behaviours, and therefore it is meaningful to talk about autism as something which exists. Most of the theory in this collection of essays is concerned with the social and institutional contexts in which Intensive Interaction can be ‘used’ and how it can be introduced into these contexts. There is an attempt to explain Intensive Interaction in terms of a range of theories but the leading focus is on the educational value of Intensive Interaction as improving the ability to communicate, though, interestingly, one author sees that as a result of releasing innate abilities rather than fostering the development of new skills.
Two, or three, of the contributors appear to be connected with the Intensive Interaction Institute, a business which is seeking to formalise training in and dissemination of Intensive interaction on a commercial basis.
Chapter 1 – Blind frogs: the nature of human communication and Intensive Interaction
This essay is by the editor of the volume, Dave Hewett. Hewett proposes a simple division of conversations into goal orientated and pleasurable. The latter are when people converse for purely social reasons and the enjoyment of shared interactions. People ‘with’ autism or LD may miss out on these pleasurable conversations. In some institutional settings the focus is on goal oriented communication. Intensive Interaction can restore this gap as it is a practice which is about social communication for its own sake. Hewett suggests that Intensive Interaction could become the norm of communication in organisational contexts and could cease to exist as a distinct practice. He argues that Intensive Interaction can lead to developmental outcomes. In as much as this idea is promoted, as it clearly is by other contributors to this volume, it seems to be at odds with discussing Intensive Interaction as a purely social activity. That said, Hewett can perhaps be forgiven since he seeks to promote the practice in institutions and that will inevitably require talk of “developmental”, (or educational), outcomes.
The author notes that much of what goes on in special schools is related to functional interaction rather than social action. Staff direct students rather than chat to them. Or they teach students how to request things. But; this is still functional.
Chapter 2 – Intensive Interaction, emotional development and emotional well-being
This essay is intellectually speaking extremely weak. The model of practice proposed is one which harms people by diminishing them. The author attempts to frame Intensive Interaction as something like circle time* for autistic people. It is beneficial because it helps with “emotional well-being”, a nebulous concept of the kind that can mean whatever its proponents want it to mean.
Intensive Interaction is in fact (and I am talking about the practice, not the theory), a form of communication. It is the pathology of psychotherapy to reduce communication to emotionalism. Hewett is on the mark with his use of the word “communing”. The over-prioritisation of the emotions and their expansion to rational domains, is what Ecclestone and Hayes [2] call “bestialism”. As Phoebe Caldwell notes when you practice Intensive Interaction a connection can be established between two people, which is enduring. (I would say that this connection is “spiritual”, which is why Hewett’s use of the word “communing” appeals to me, though I recognise that “spiritual” has connotations which may not appeal to everyone).. To reduce this connection to emotionalism is a monstrosity. It is bestial because it treats people as if they are, for example, cats – beings who have emotions but do not have ideas, reasoning and semantic apprehensions of the world. By framing Intensive Interaction as “emotional education” the author of this chapter is dragging a practice about “communing” into the pit of her senseless bestialism.
The author teases at the beginning that she will “later discuss” Ecclestone. However at the end of her essay she simply says that Ecclestone (2004) “places academic needs and emotional well-being in a mutually exclusive relationship”. I have not read the 2004 paper referred to but I have read Ecclestone’s 2009 critique of therapeutic education. In this book Ecclestone and Hayes [2] accept that emotion has a part to play in learning; in intention, but not in content. A good example of their argument is about adults attending a crafts course. The adults are learning a craft skill. If, in addition, this is presented and sold as the adults “boosting their self-esteem”, that actually demeans the adults. It is enough that they are learning a skill. Thus, we see that Ecclestone does not, in fact, “place academic needs and emotional well-being in a mutually exclusive relationship”. (At least not in her major 2009 work; written before this essay was written). An adult might have an emotional motivation in attending a craft class. That is not denied. But it is unnecessary to present “boosting self-esteem” as part of the content of the curriculum.
At the end of her essay, the author then says simply “This [Eccletone’s arguments from the 2004 paper] does not concur with the theories and arguments in this chapter”. Far from being a discussion that is simply an attempt to shame Ecclestone. The author is attempting a sleight of hand; I will discuss Ecclestone at the end. But, at the end, she does not discuss Ecclestone. She simply says, “so, Ecclestone is wrong because her ideas do not ‘concur’ with mine”. There is no intellectual engagement with the arguments of Ecclestone. Ecclestone is wrong because her ideas do not “concur with” those of the author. This shabby and elitist manoeuvre should itself stand as a critique of the “emotional well being” movement. Not only do they practice emotionalism but in constructing their theory they demonstrate the prioritisation of emotions over reasoning. This is also a circular argument.
I really hope that the kind of weak and dishonest thinking on display here does not manage to harm Intensive Interaction and diminish it. It is concerning that the organisation in the UK which is trying to take a lead on establishing Intensive Interaction as a professional practice should associate itself with the emotional education movement.
* circle time is the name of a state supported practice in Primary Schools in the UK based on therapeutic ideas of the benefits of pressuring people into confessing their emotional states to others
Chapter 3 – Interactive approaches to teaching and learning
This chapter concerns “interactive approaches to teaching and learning”. The author emphasises the importance of a student being active and “taking control of their own learning”. Basic agency in learning is a requirement for the development of thinking and communication with others. This latter seems to this reviewer intuitively true.
This author, like the author of Chapter 7, refers to a USSR educationalist called Vygotsky. (I have come across Vygotsky’s ideas about learning in a book about vocabulary in EFL teaching, though I have not read Vygotsky directly [3]). Vygotsky seems to, in line with Bolshevik ideology. have asserted that learning is a social matter and that all knowledge is acquired by learners by exposure to knowledge-holders (the same model as how propaganda was disseminated in the USSR) via the “zone of proximal development”, the area where a student lacks the knowledge of the superior practitioner (member of society / the Party) but has sufficient knowledge to be able to access it. The key idea seems to be that knowledge is thus not an individual endeavour but is always a collective process. This model does not seem to be able to explain breakthroughs in knowledge and seems ideally suited to a society where ideological obedience is central. I am really surprised to see that this theory apparently is so prevalent even today amongst academics in the field of education. Are they not aware that “knowledge” and academic ideas in the USSR were controlled by and subordinate to the interests of the Communist Party hierarchy? In Chapter 7 in this volume Vygotsky’s ideas are as saying that knowledge can only be developed in a social and collective context. This is an abhorrent idea. I don’t disagree with the idea that teachers should present material which is just outside what their students currently know – but that is nothing more than an obvious truism of educational practice. I accept it it is also a particularly useful concept to bear in mind when working with people with severe LD who, as the author points out, may have a very limited current base and so new experiences will have to be carefully targeted if they are to be meaningful for that student.
The author very briefly discusses how language is learned and emphasises the importance of interaction.
The overall theme of this chapter is to emphasise how interactive approaches to teaching, which involve and engage the student based on their own interests, are likely to be more successful than behavioural approaches which focus on an adult agenda of skills to be learned. Interactive approaches work for all young people and for those with profound learning difficulties alike.
Chapter 4 – Wired for communication: how the neuroscience of infancy helps in understanding the effectiveness of Intensive Interaction
This is quite a feisty chapter. The author’s main contention is that people with autism do not lack the capacity for communication as is sometimes thought. Imitative activity is hard-wired and observable from birth. Despite my tendency to reject emotional interpretations which cannot be grounded in empirical evidence I find the story that imitation is about emotional connection attractive:
There is an intimacy associated with two people acknowledging, through the mirroring of their actions, that they are jointly focused on one another (Zeedyk, 2006). Imitative exchanges are not acts of copying, but moments of sharing.
The author claims empirical support for her view. Apparently, neuroscience has discovered “mirror neurons”. These are neural networks which fire when a person sees another person (or, I would assume, any representation of), performing an action:
So, the neurons that fire when I move my arm downwards also fire when I see someone else moving their arm downwards.
Based on this the author advances a theory of why Intensive Interaction can lead to calmness and joy. The person is not used to “being heard”. “They live lives of emotional isolation”. When they see their actions “imitated” they feel heard and this creates an emotional connection. By “being heard” I think we can understand something like “being recognised by another person”. With this in mind:
Intensive Interaction can begin to be understood not so much as a means of teaching communicative fundamentals, but as creating a context in which existing capacities can flourish.
It follows from this, that:
My contention is that Intensive Interaction has much more to do with being human than it has to do with impairment. Seeing it in this way allows us to reverse the standard conceptual hierarchy, in which those of us who are not disabled see ourselves as somehow boosting the humanity of those who are. Instead, ‘disabled’ people reveal something to the rest of us about our sense of our selves.
The argument seems to be that “being heard” is very important to people. It is a hard-wired need. When a practitioner “imitates” or “echoes” (with feeling and understanding) the actions or vocalisations or rhythms of another person, that other person feels “heard”. They see or hear their actions being “performed”, and this fires off the same mirror neurons that fire when they perform these actions alone. But now, this is a dyadic experience, and not a solitary one. They understand, (and this must be an act of cognition), that they are in a conversation. Thus this experience is a joyous one for them.
What causes autism?
The author says that current thinking is that autism is caused by a cognitive impairment. The alternative theory, which is also mentioned by the author, is espoused for example, by Phoebe Caldwell. This is the idea that autism is caused by a problem with perceptual or sensory processing; the information is correctly recorded by the senses but the systems which process those signals and pass on the information to the cognitive processing areas are damaged and they distort the perceptual signals. According to Zeedyk, the author of this chapter, sensory accounts of autism are no longer popular and the leading theory is that of cognitive deficits with sensory issues playing a secondary role.
The author mentions a theory that the impairment is with the mirror neurons. (This would be a view that said that autistic people cannot feel empathy). The authors say that the evidence from Intensive Interaction sessions where we see mirroring triggering a response refutes this.
The author follows Caldwell and argues for a sensory explanation of autism. She precisely follows Caldwell in suggesting that Intensive Interaction works by reducing sensory distress. Once sensory distress is reduced existing and not impaired cognitive capabilities, including, turn-taking and even speech, can manifest.
This reviewer does not completely follow Zeedyk’s argument about how Intensive Interaction demonstrates that the causes of autism are sensory problems. The argument seems to be: there are two leading theories of the causes of autism; cognitive deficits and sensory deficits. Because, under certain conditions, (Intensive Interaction), the person demonstrates that they have more cognitive capabilities than assumed, the cause cannot be cognitive deficits and the other theory must therefore apply; that is a sensory deficit. In addition, a lot of people with autism do have sensory problems. (Caldwell is especially strong on this and reports good results with e.g. lenses which filter out certain wavelengths of light). If this is the argument it is an argument based on deductive reasoning. There is no direct evidence (just some anecdotal evidence) that autism is caused by sensory issues. In addition; it is not completely clear how Intensive Interaction bypasses the sensory processing issues. On the other hand; one can see how “mirroring”, (with empathy) someone’s actions could resonate for them cognitively.
The author argues, based on the material presented in her chapter about how the brain develops rapidly during childhood, that it is critical to develop modes of communication with young people with autism which mean that, despite their (supposed) sensory deficits, they can still develop effective neural pathways.
The author emphasises the role of free play in the development of neural synapses.
My doubt about the sensory explanation for autism is as follows. We can imagine a pathway. Light strikes the eye, (to take the example of one sense). The light is converted into electrical signals by photoreceptors in the retina. This electrically encoded information is sent along the optic nerve to a signal processing unit in the brain. This unit builds the picture. This picture is now read by cognitive functions in the brain. There are a range of different cognitive processing units. Which one or ones will be engaged to handle the picture (a tiger moving towards one, or a care-giver apparently giving instructions, for example) and provide the response? The response could be organised by a rational cognitive unit, a limbic one or a flight or flight response or other units connected with socialisation. Here we can see how sometimes the same signal may be handled by higher-level rational areas of the brain or more fight-or-flight controllers, depending perhaps on overall stress level and some putative ‘super dispatcher’, (which may not actually exist; it may be that which area provides the response is dependent on established patterns rather than a single overall dispatcher). My problem with the sensory explanation is that it seems to imply problems with the signal processing unit in the above schema. However, based on my observations of autistic people they do not have problems seeing or hearing. They effectively construct visual representations of their surroundings. They hear spoken input and decode the words. They often show that they have understood the words, (even if they are non-verbal). They show that they are aware of the particular rules of cause and effect that apply in their immediate spatial surroundings. All this suggests to me that there are no deficits in the initial encoding of light or sound into electric signals nor in the subsequent decoding of these into models such as images or language. And, further, that they are successfully conducting at least a preliminary and basic cognitive processing of the sensory data. How else would they clearly understand input such as “use two hands on the swing please” or know that if they kick the door just at this moment they will get it to hit the teacher in the head? I theorise that the issue is with aspects of cognitive processing, especially with those features of cognitive processing that are to do with building up social maps, such as roles and expectations, understanding the intentions of other people and aspects of empathy. It is clear that my hypothesis assumes such a distinct brain function, though, not necessarily, associated with a distinct area. (However see note: [4]).My hypothesis is that people with autism have limited capacity in these areas. This deficit is then compounded by the way in which care-givers, not understanding, continue to relate to the child as if they did not have these deficits. This causes cognitive, not sensory, overloading and the child then switches off and retreats into their own world. In this model Intensive Interaction works because the socio-interactive input is at a very simple level and attuned to the person’s own abilities and specific vocabulary. Thus there is no cognitive overloading. The person with autism is thus able to engage fully using the level of cognitive abilities available to them. An analogy from language teaching may illustrate the idea; I can ask a student who has A2 level English a complicated B2 level question. They will simply gape. They will not and cannot respond, because they don’t understand. An outside observer might conclude that they don’t speak English at all. But, if I give them input attuned to their actual capacity, A2, they can respond. If all they ever heard was B2 they would never respond and never develop. We can extend the language teaching metaphor further. Imagine a class of students learning English whose first language is Russian. The least stressful input for them is Russian, the second least stressful input is simple English attuned to their current level, the next level of stress is English pitched at just above their current level, (the Zone of proximal development), and the most stressful is English pitched significantly above their current level. If the situation concerns simply an ordinary classroom lesson then even English pitched at too high a level won’t be that stressful. They will just switch off and start day-dreaming. But, imagine that the situation is one of crisis and survival, for example the fire alarm is sounding. And now the teacher is giving them what appear to be critical instructions, in high-level English, and they don’t understand a word. Who would not panic in such a situation? It can be a life and death matter to be able to make sense of the input and be sure of being understood.
This hypothesis does not necessarily rule out issues with sensory signal processing but suggests that those are secondary. Thus it conforms to the current mainstream view as reported by Zeedyk. One can (wildly) speculate that cognitive overloading issues could feedback into the sensory processing system causing storms to arise there, (in the same way that muscle problems can cause pain in other parts of the body).
It would seem, based on material presented in the next chapter, that the hypothesis I outline above is loosely connected with a theory known as “theory of mind”. This positis a particular difficulty understanding the motives and actions of others as well as social cues and other signs from the social sphere including “body language”. A key skill here is to use the knowledge or guesses about how the other person is feeling or views a situation to modify the input (your output) which you provide for them. Clearly, someone who practices Intensive Interaction should be skilled in this area.
It is worth pointing out that the view that Intensive Interaction works because it finds a way of communicating with a person with autism which is accessible to them, wherein they feel recognised, and which does not overload them and which (in brain terms) travels along neural pathways which are familiar to them works whether the deficit is thought to be either sensory or cognitive.
Criticism
There is much that I find appealing in this essay though based on intuition rather than being convinced by rational arguments and empirical evidence. In particular the idea that the benefits of Intensive Interaction is that a person with autism feels heard resonates. The author argues that basic human connections are essential. That due to sensory issues and a lack of adaptive and empathetic input from care-givers young people with autism become isolated. Exploiting the mirror neuron system enables a conversation to be established. This conversation leads to reduced stress and in this state of relaxation cognitive capacities which are not in fact lacking can emerge.
Based on my own experience I find this an attractive account. I have practised Intensive Interaction with young people with autism and severe Learning Difficulties and have found that, very quickly, young people who seemed completely cut off can take part in turn-taking activities and one young person who I was told “is non verbal” started to speak – albeit simply repeating what was said to him.
Of course, there is a danger that one can encourage belief in miracles. Even if some cognitive capacities emerge it may be that there really are also cognitive deficits and there is a limit to what can actually emerge. A large proportion of autistic people also have some degree of learning difficulty.
My main problem with the view presented in this chapter that autism is caused by sensory issues is that thew view rests on a deductive argument. The supposed sensory processing deficits are not actually empirically established. (Though Caldwell tries to do this when she cites accounts by people with autism of sensory storms they suffered). I have discussed this question in the section above on the causes of autism.
Overall, this is a positive essay which is based on humanity. The author emphasises that Intensive Interaction is about communication, relationship and joy. These ideas stand in stark contrast to the grim presentation of Intensive Interaction as a method of producing educational outcomes, presented in Chapter 7 of this volume.
Chapter 5 – Intensive Interaction and its relationship with the triad of impairments in ASD
The author of this Chapter links the practice of Intensive Interaction to the well-known model of the “Triad of impairments” in autism; deficits in social interaction, communication skills and imaginative play. The author writes:
The impairment in communication and social skills within ASD therefore seems to stem from a difficulty in using, interpreting and understanding the social aspects of communication, rather than specific difficulty in understanding the functional purpose of communication (Baron-Cohen and Bolton, 1993; Halle and Meadan, 2007).
Anecdotally, we can note that this is consistent with my hypothesis about what causes autism, in the previous section. Autistic people do indeed receive the input and decode it to a basic level. The deficit occurs in subsequent “higher-level” processing. However; the following contradicts my hypothesis:
Deficits in communication include lack of understanding of linguistic communication (for example, speech sounds, grammatical information and word meanings), paralinguistic communication (intonation, gesture and facial expression) and pragmatics (topic initiation, communicative intention and presupposition)
Here, I think the mistake is to group learning difficulties with autism. Referring again to my own experience I can think of abundant examples of non-verbal or supposedly non-verbal young people with autism who clearly understood grammatical information and word meanings. One boy clearly understood an instruction to use two hands on the swing, even though he may have had no idea at all why I was so bothered by him flying through the air barely holding on to the swing. Another, who was thought to have virtually no agency immediately and without fuss understood my instruction that he was to hold onto a pound coin which he got back from a supermarket trolley docking system and give it back to his carer on the bus. (Who knows; he may even have understood why the pound coin was important; because you can buy things with it). Another, very volatile 5 year old boy with autism and significant distress behaviours, who was quite verbal, very amusingly responded to my comment, (made in exasperation after an afternoon of crises and dramas) that he was “oppositionally defiant” with “not really”. But, he probably didn’t have much understanding about the inconvenience he was causing or the pain he caused me when he deliberately smacked me in the eye.
The author’s report that it is easier to teach people with autism practical skills, such as how to make a cup of tea, than it is to teach social communication and interaction skills bears out the view that this is the area in which the deficit lies.
The author briefly introduces the concept of theory of mind. As we have discussed in the last section, this theory posits a particular difficulty understanding the motives and actions of others as well as social cues and other signs from the social sphere including “body language”. The author then links this to the theory to a supposed deficit in mirror neurons. However; we would agree with Zeedyk (Chapter 4); the fact that people with autism can take part in Intensive Interaction suggests that they do not have a problem with (supposed) mirror neurons, per se. If autistic people did have a deficit in mirror neurons it is unlikely that Intensive Interaction could even get off the ground. It works when the autistic partner sees and recognises their own actions or language being provided by the partner, which would appear to be precisely how mirror neurons are supposed to work. One can posit that a deficit in mirror neurons is causal in autism but it is hard to see how this view can be maintained once Intensive Interaction has been seen to work.
The author of this section, Swinton, sees Intensive Interaction as being a method for developing communication skills; “…the beneficial partnership between the processes of Intensive Interaction and its outcomes”. While that is one way of looking at it, this reviewer prefers the non-outcome focussed model more closely presented in this volume in Chapter 1; Intensive Interaction as a rewarding social conversation carried on for its own sake.
The author emphasises how in Intensive Interaction sessions it is important to let the student initiate most of the interactions. The process should be led by the student. Thus they develop a sense of agency, as someone who can have a conversation. This is a useful reminder. Despite her adherence to outcomes Swinton does fully recognise the value of the taskless nature of the exchange. She also explicitly states that the skills acquired through Intensive Interaction cannot be quantified; so she seems, on balance, to be on the side of those who value process for its own sake, and not measurable outcomes. She does point to the fact that establishing the basics of communication is a prerequisite for other learning to take place.
Swinton is a teacher and there exists a certain tension in this essay between needing to justify Intensive Interaction in terms of outcomes and valuing it for being a means of enjoying social interaction. However; it is clear her heart is in the right place and she focuses on the value of Intensive Interaction as a meaningful and unquantifiable process of social exchange, while noting that it does, potentially, address the impairment in communication skills common, by definition, to people with autism.
Chapter 6 – Promoting communication rather than generating data
This chapter is rather focussed on how Intensive Interaction is implemented in organisations. There is a powerful criticism of outcomes monitoring.
There is a subtle attraction for teachers and therapists to go about the business of promoting communication with people who have profound intellectual disabilities by following the conveniently linear hierarchies that characterise the predominantly assessment-based, commercially available resources. However by apparently simplifying a learning situation or communicative act by stripping it down to the level of what is observable, the meaning of the actions can be confused and the nature of the activity can easily be lost.
The author, Mark Barber, promotes the idea of recording what happens in an Intensive Interaction session, rather than determining if outcomes are met. A focus on planned outcomes does not allow for unplanned developments.
Barber notes that in recent years an increase in the use of “commercially packaged intervention resources” has led to a product management ethos to teaching – outcomes under the guise of accountability. Indeed this is the case. This reviewer recently attended an interview in the special needs department of an FE College. He was told that part of the job includes completing two online reporting tools after each session. Barber is based in Australia and New Zealand but the same applies in the UK.
Barber distinguishes between “providers” whose focus with young people is on meeting their needs and “meaning-makers” who are focused on trying to build meaningful relationships with their students/charges.
Teaching students how to make requests still plays an important part in most curricula despite a general move away from behaviouralism. In connection with this Barber criticises use of symbols (signs for objects) with learners who are not yet capable of understanding language i.e. symbols, or higher order interactions with caregivers where both parties are mutually focussed on an object.
Vygotsky makes another appearance. “Interaction between learner and adult is vital in leading to cognitive change”. This is more in line with the presentation of Vygotsky in Chapter 7 than in Chapter 3; the use of the word “vital” which means indispensable excludes the possibility that an individual can achieve “cognitive change” unaided, which, on the face of it, is simply implausible. Has he heard of reading and thinking? Or, if he would say that is a form of interaction albeit with an author; how about Newton and his apple? Where was the “adult” in that cognitive change? (Or Archimedes in his bath? Or the Buddha under the Bodi tree?). I just instinctually rebel against the materialist State Communist idea that learning can only happen in a collective.
A common idea in this volume as a whole is that Intensive Interaction should follow the lead of the student because, by having their interests valued, they will be more motivated. Barber also affirms this point.
In line with his idea of recording what happened rather than assessing progress against planned outcomes the author suggests the use of video recording. Videos are then used to determine interactive competence against a chart.
Barber concludes with a reminder that even if he is outlining a more sensitive system of measurement it is still not important not to lose sight of the fact that exchange and interaction is a value in itself.
Chapter 7 – Intensive Interaction for Inclusion and development
The author of this chapter, Graham Firth, proposes a two stage model for Intensive Interaction. The first stage of the practice promotes inclusion, the second allows development, especially of communication skills.
Firth seems to have bought heavily into the ideas of the Soviet educationalist, Vygotsky. Apparently, (because I have not read Vygotsky), Vygotsky proposed that knowledge can only be acquired from the social collective and thus learners acquire knowledge from “more experienced practitioners”. Knowledge is not “an individual matter”. I have already briefly touched on why I think this model of knowledge is wrong, in my discussion of Chapter 6. However, I accept, because it simply seems to be a truism, the model of the “Zone of proximal development”, which appears to be no more than stating the rather obvious idea that a teacher needs to present material which is a little beyond the students’ current knowledge so as to expand their knowledge, but close enough to be apprehendable. But, Firth does not simply accept the useful (if obvious) concept of Zone of proximal development. He accepts (uncritically) the whole theory of knowledge as being something which belongs to the collective:
Thus, from this perspective, knowledge is not seen as an individually acquired asset or skill, but instead it is viewed as socially distributed, with social action seen as inseparable from a collaborative process of knowledge creation.
and
“indeed Lave and Wenger (1991: 98) even suggest that a ‘community of practice’ is ‘an intrinsic condition for the existence of knowledge’.”
It is important not to misunderstand the “collaborative process” in the first quote above. The student in an Intensive Interaction engagement is not seen as a collaborator. They are being inducted or “encultured” into knowledge which has already been established by the collective by the more experienced practitioner. The idea of “social action seen as inseparable from a collaborative process of knowledge creation” is, in fact a Marxist idea of how knowledge must lead to socially liberating actions or it is not knowledge at all. These ideas are quite close to those of Paulo Freire, the Brazilian educator, who applied Marxist ideas to developing educational programmes to raise the political consciousness of peasant farmers in South America. It seems to this reviewer that theses ideas of Vygotsky, if correctly presented here, are being quite seriously misapplied to the field of special needs education in the UK. .
This idea of the “more experienced practitioner” contradicts the idea of Intensive Interaction as being an approach to communication which uses the language of the student, (the person with autism), as the basis for the communication. Looked at like this, the more experienced partner is in fact the student. This approach requires humility; we see this, for example, in the practice and writings of Phoebe Caldwell. The author of Chapter 4 in this volume, Zeedyk also speaks of the neurotypical learning from the “disabled”.
The theoretical weakness of this chapter is that Firth does not really argue for the ideas he presents. He simply says, for example, “Learning is seen as ‘a process of enculturation into a “community of practice”’. The essay is peppered with such phrases as “is seen”, “central tenets”, “Thus, from this perspective, knowledge is not seen as…” Stating a perspective or its “central tenets” does not establish the veracity of the proposed theory.
The author tries to incorporate elements of different theories into a single vision. In particular, he attempts to combine the theory of knowledge of one author, Sfard, who proposes two different kinds of knowledge, generalised and decontextualized, against contextualised and participatory, with the theory of knowledge of social constructivism and the “community of practitioners”, (Vygotsky); These latter are said to be interested in Sfard’s contextualised knowledge. It is not clear from the account given by Firth whether Sfard accepts the validity of “generalised” knowledge or not.
Firth writes:
In contrast, Sfard’s participation metaphor replaces the idea of acquired decontextualised knowledge with a more adaptive conceptualisation of learning, where ‘knowing’ replaces the idea of ‘having knowledge’ and participation in activities is seen as analytically more relevant than the acquisition and storage of knowledge through individualised cognitive structures.
This does look somewhat like behavioural theories of knowledge which focus on performance of tasks and are agnostic as to what might be going on in someone’s mind. It is not clear to the reviewer how much, in reality, Sfard’s metaphor of contextualised knowledge really is the same thing as the “knowledge of the community of practitioners” proposed by Vygotsky. Sometimes there can be a danger in simply mapping one author’s theory onto those of another when those authors may be coming from quite distinct theoretical foundations. It would seem that “contextualised” knowledge may simply be skills. One can open a door without articulating a theory of how door knobs work. Is this what Vygotsky was talking about? It is not clear. And; does Sfard’s decontextualised knowledge, (the general theory of how to open a door), exist or not? (In modern cognitive psychology a distinction is made between “representation”, which is about storing knowledge and “process”, which is about using knowledge to drive behaviour. From that viewpoint, Firth’s combined Vygotsky’s knowledge as that which exists and only exists within a community of practitioners and Sfard’s contextualised knowledge might be supposed to be “process”. But, does not process knowledge imply representation? This looks like the old positivist game of announcing that only the sense-empirical world is a valid domain for knowledge and then declaring that God does not exist).
The problem with the knowledge model presented here, which appears to be a ‘strict’ application of Vygotsky’s theory, as it is applied to Intensive Interaction, is obvious. The model was suited no doubt to the hierarchical conditions of the USSR where the Party at the top determined not only the actions of all members of society, but also knowledge and truth itself. Unfortunately, applying this model to Intensive Interaction moves us very far away from a conversation led by the young person or student and, inevitably. towards a model in which the “more experienced practitioner” controls the process. In this model, following Vygotsky, the experienced practitioner is the one who inducts the learner into the world of knowledge which the experienced practitioner (party worker) already has access to. It is really the opposite of Intensive Interaction. Given this frame it no longer becomes possible to talk, as some of the other authors represented in this volume do, about learning from the student.
This attitude of the superiority of the practitioner is evident throughout this essay. For example:
Such a process describes the guidance given by a more expert or experienced practitioner that is both supportive and encouraging of the attempts of a novice or less expert practitioner.
Compare the above with the emphasis on partnership in Chapter 3:
This is the point at which the intersection of Intensive Interaction and neuroscience becomes especially inviting; it allows us to comprehend the full meaning of ‘partnership’.
and
My contention is that Intensive Interaction has much more to do with being human than it has to do with impairment. Seeing it in this way allows us to reverse the standard conceptual hierarchy, in which those of us who are not disabled see ourselves as somehow boosting the humanity of those who are. Instead, ‘disabled’ people reveal something to the rest of us about our sense of our selves.
Firth wishes to create a model which is not focussed on the acquisition of skills by the individual. He is trying to find an alternative to a behaviourist model. But, instead of moving in the direction of interpersonal communication, as many of the other contributors to this volume do, he has adopted a “constructivist” model which is based around inducting the student, (person with autism), into the community of people who already have knowledge. The theory may include the word “community” but it is still oppressive to the individual and Mr Gradgrind like.
Perhaps keen not to totally lose sight of the individual, Firth talks about how Intensive Interaction can build “a sense of esteem and social agency”.
However, measurable outcomes make a re-appearance:
I also believe that greater clarity in articulating the primary aims of an Intensive Interaction intervention is beneficial, so that those being trained or supported in using the approach might be better able to conceptualise what is expected of them, and thus better able to make judgements on the effectiveness of the approach and on their own Intensive Interaction practice.
and
I formed the opinion that the measurable the measurable outcomes of outcomes of Intensive Interaction can accrue in two different, but complementary, ways:
Talk of measurable outcomes is very reminiscient of the behaviouralist approach. Firth proposes, again based on his participatory model, that “progress” be measured in terms of engagement and participation rather than acquisition of skills, by the individual. This does not seem to allow for the possibility that an individual might transfer her skills/ability to communicate to other contexts.
Firth wants to break free of a directed approach:
…fraught imposition of a directive pedagogy and an externally constructed curriculum.
But, in turning to this model of knowledge from the USSR he has only come full circle. The practitioner is still king even if the hierarchy of management has seemingly been replaced with the “community of practitioners”. Ironically, this is, simply put, what happened in the history of Soviet Communism. An ideal of a society in which each person participated fully and was equal became, quite quickly, an authoritarian state, with the party prescribing knowledge and determining truth into which everyone was to be inducted, while, at the same time, the myth of equal participation was maintained.
At a practical level, despite its unproven and anti-individualistic theoretical basis, a practice which is based on a theory of including a student into a community by adapting the communication repertoires of the practitioners to fit with those of the student, does, at least, imply a practice which engages with a student. The emphasis on a whole-school or whole-community approach is also a positive outcome of this way of looking at things.
It is outside the scope of this discussion but one can say that there must be some doubt about the idea of teaching communication skills to people with autism: “the successful learning of fundamental communication practices”. At this point it depends on which overall theory of autism one is basing interventions on. If autism is caused by sensory processing difficulties, (e.g. as proposed in Chapter 3 of this book), then perhaps it does make sense to talk about teaching communication skills. Once the sensory processing difficulties have been mitigated as much as possible, e.g. by environmental changes and changes in the behaviour of communicants, then the intact cognitive functions can “learn communication skills”. But if the overall model of autism called “theory of mind” is valid, then, perhaps, talk of teaching and learning communication skills becomes less relevant. In this model the person with autism has a critical deficit in the “module” of mind which is concerned with reading other people’s minds – a key component of communication.
This is a rather disappointing chapter. It relies on a theory of knowledge which is simply presented and not established. This model emphasises the pre-existence of a “community of practitioners” who possess the knowledge of the collective, and into which the student, (the person with autism in this case), is to be inducted. Inevitably, despite some signs of a wish to adopt a more equalizing approach, this means that an unequal relationship, and therefore not a partnership, is proposed. That said, the overall model, that Intensive Interaction can have some short-term benefits in promoting communication and some longer-term benefits in terms of promoting development is probably valid and a reasonable model for looking at the value of Intensive Interaction in an organisational context.
Chapter 8 – Intensive Interaction within models of organizational change
This chapter concerns the dissemination of the practice of Intensive Interaction.
The author suggests that initially there were cultural and institutional barriers to propagation of the practice. She seems to suggest that the fact that Intensive Interaction is useful for different groups; learning difficulties, autism, those with speech problems, perhaps meant that there were additional difficulties for dissemination. She also says, “Intensive Interaction was at first given away freely and openly with no support mechanisms or restrictions on use for practitioners.”. The author is a director of the Intensive Interaction Institute, an Essex based business which is seeking to monetise Intensive Interaction, so this perhaps explains her objection to it “being given away freely”.
Initially there was organisational resistance to Intensive Interaction because its free-flowing and seemingly equality based approach contradicted accepted institutional practice of the 1980s and 1990s. Even today dissemination is mainly carried forwards by practitioners not management. There are less barriers today in a culture which is more person centred but the apparent tasklessness of Intensive Interaction can be problematic in an outcomes focussed world. We can note that other contributors to this volume have explicitly tried to address this by linking Intensive Interaction to monitorable educational outcomes, albeit in the best cases, e.g. Chapter 6, Barber, and Chapter 9 Hewett, in a non-linear way.
It was in this spirit that Intensive Interaction was available, at no cost and with no restrictions, to whoever had the motivation to introduce it to their work place.
This is in fact like complaining that air, or talking, is available at no cost. In my view it is totally shameless.
Apart from this apparent money-grabbing this reviewer has other concerns with this author:
[Intensive Interaction] ….. standard of practice in that it reflects the best of parent/carer interactions with a young infant.
While there are clearly aspects of Intensive Interaction that reflect the communication praxis between infant and carer this is a reductive view. It reduces Intensive Interaction to career-infant fact communication. But it may be simply a question of unclear expression of ideas.
The author discusses training in Intensive Interaction:
Rather than imparting knowledge as an ‘expert’ a trainer would be prepared to have knowledge that is mutually constructed by the participants in a course.
I think I know what she means, but the sentence and therefore meaning is confused. (Either the trainer ‘has’ the knowledge a priori or it is “mutually constructed”, but not both).
While I am taken aback by the attempt to monetise the practice I note that this is inevitable. (I saw a quote somewhere about how all social movements at some point become industries, but I can’t locate the exact quote now). The author seems to have problems expressing herself. I am not even convinced she has a very solid grasp of the practice, (at one point, for example, she talks about ‘mirroring a young man banging on his chair’). On the positive side there is some useful discussion in this chapter about disseminating Intensive Interaction. The author introduces a model of participative change and directive change. Participative change is when change happens “from the coal-face”; it is change driven in an ad hoc way by individual practitioners. Directive change is change which is ordered from the higher levels in a hierarchical organisation. It seems that the author thinks that the best model for introducing Intensive Interaction is participative change helped along by some directive change, a view I agree with entirely.
Chapter 9 – What is Intensive Interaction? Curriculum, process and approach
In this Chapter Hewett, who is also the author of Chapter 1, takes a more outcomes focussed approach. Recall, that in Chapter 1 he focussed on Intensive Interaction as an example of social interaction for its own sake.
Now Hewett is talking about “learning outcomes” emerging over time as a result of repeated practice of Intensive Interaction. He does, however, make a distinction between emergent learning outcomes, and driven learning outcomes. Intensive Interaction is associated with the former. While there is an overall set of learning outcomes, these are allowed to arise naturally through the activities rather than the activities being designed to produce the outcomes in a linear way. Hewett notes that this approach is similar to that proposed by the Uk government for early years learning. Hewett is keen to embed Intensive Interaction into the government framework of education.
Once again, Vygotsky makes an appearance! This Soviet educationalist seems to have made a deep impression on theoreticians of Intensive Interaction.
Anecdotally here is a lovely example of academese, quoted by Hewett:
Thus, to understand the complexity of ZPD [Zone of Proximal Development], it is necessary to take into account such concepts as tool mediation, social mediation of learning, internalisation, intersubjectivity and the active position of the child in learning. When we talk about working in the zone of proximal development, we look at the way that a child’s performance is mediated socially, that is, how shared understanding or intersubjectivity has been achieved. [Verenikina 2003]
One wonders; what is the “active position of the child”? Upright? Supine? What does it mean for “child’s performance to be mediated socially?” Realised in a social context and influenced by that context, perhaps? Isn’t the concept of “the child’s performance” simply some kind of idea from the Victorian schoolroom? And what is “intersubjectivity”? That sounds, horribly like, the “child” has aligned herself with the understanding of the practitioner, as every good young Pioneer should.
There follows a rather extravagant and flowery presentation of the idea that the ZPD is fluid. It moves with the child. None of this is rocket science. It is, again, a truism of teaching, that the teacher will present material, (or actions, perhaps), that are just beyond the current place of the student, in order to move them forwards, and that this is an ongoing and dynamic process.
I am surprised to find the author of the Chapter on “blind frogs”, which emphasised the value of communication for its own sake saying:
Rather, the complex learning situation gradually makes available the transfer of everything the expert does know, and also provides the dynamic social ecology necessary for the development of the cognitive substructures for the learner.
and
When discussing Intensive Interaction, it is important never to stray too far from reference to the teaching intentions and outcomes.
This reviewer has practiced Intensive Interaction on multiple occasions with young people with autism and learning difficulties. He recognises the characterisation of this as being an enjoyable social exchange. While, it was not on his mind at the time of practice, he can understand that a case can be made for integrating Intensive Interaction into curricula as an approach which promotes learning of communication skills and as a basis for learning in general, (with the caveat discussed in Chapter 7 that “teaching communication skills” may not be applicable to young people with autism), but, this idea of the “expert” transferring “knowledge” is not something he recognises at all from his practice. I have never felt anything like an expert.
Refreshingly, Hewett does not seem fully on board with the social constructivist theory of learning which places learning in a social context.
The vast mass, the bulk of the learning takes place in, resides within, the learner’s brain.
Contrasts nicely with the constructivist (?) view expressed in this quote in Chapter 7:
with learning being seen as ‘a process that takes place in a participation framework, not in an individual mind’ [Hanks, 1991]
While approving of the ZPD model it does not seem that Hewett has fully drunk the Kool-Aid of asserting that all knowledge is social.
Hewett criticises linear and behavioural approaches to teaching. He suggests that one can still have learning outcomes in mind but that these can be allowed to emerge through more spontaneous and even play-like situations.
Hewett emphasises the importance of repetition in learning and not being afraid to return to themes already covered. He comments that teachers often feel under pressure “to get the learner urgently to the next stage”. This is an important practical intervention and applies in learning in general, not just in “teaching communication” in special schools. (I relate to it in English language teaching, which I am currently engaged in, where many teachers, obliged to follow a textbook curriculum, feel a need to rush from one complicated point of grammar to the next). The proposed model of a spiral rather than a linear line of progress is a useful contribution to learning theory in general.
Reviewer’s Conclusion
This collection of essays is a mixed bag. There is not much here which will help practitioners. For that; turn to the widely-available books and videos by Phoebe Caldwell. If there is an overall direction to the book it seems to be aimed at establishing Intensive Interaction as an institutional practice. There is an essay which links it (horribly) to the contemporary cult of emotionalism and bestialism in education. There is an essay providing a rather heavy justification of the practice as a method for achieving learning outcomes, based on an educational ideology from the Soviet Union. This ideology is presented as a fait accompli and no argument or evidence is made to support it.
On the more positive side, there is a positive account of the practice which emphasises its value as social communication for its own sake, (Hewett, Chapter 1). This theory is consistent with a presentation of Intensive Interaction as being about relationship and connection, (Zeedyk, Chapter 4). This approach is supported by a well-argued criticism of outcomes monitoring, (Barber, Chapter 6). (Chapter 5, Swinton) also addresses the question of outcomes and while proposing that intensive Interaction can address the communicative deficit in autism is careful to emphasise that the outcomes are actually unquantifiable. One essay situates Intensive Interaction in the broader contexts of interactive approaches to teaching, (Lacey, Chapter 3). There is an essay discussing how the practice can be disseminated in different organisational contexts which, while it seems somewhat shaky as regards the actual practice, does present a useful model for dissemination. (Irvine, Chapter 8). The idea of a spiral of “progress” is promoted in Chapter 9, Hewett which also talks about learning outcomes “emerging” rather than being produced.
The collection as a whole provides some insight into where an organised group of practitioners and their allies are trying to take Intensive Interaction. It shows how the practice appeals to people with a wide variety of theoretical perspectives. For those interested in the theory of autism and “why” or how Intensive Interaction works, there is a very little material to be gleaned; this is not the topic of this book. Some of the material is organizational and may be relevant to people trying to persuade management to adopt the practice within their organisations. There are attempts to link Intensive Interaction to the UK government curriculum and to show that it does produce “measurable outcomes” especially if a more flexible approach to measuring outcomes is adopted than is currently the practice in schools.
Hewett, Dave. Intensive Interaction: Theoretical Perspectives SAGE Publications. Kindle Edition. 201
Hewett Intenstive Interaction A Theorectical Perspective
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Notes
1. Learning the Language. Phoebe Caldwell. Video. Pavilion.
2. The Dangerous Rise of Therapeutic Education 2009. Ecclestone and Hayes.
3. How languages are learned. Patsy M. Lightbrown and Nina Spada. Oxford
2013
This is a report from work at Bangor University from 2018 where researchers claim to have identified a specific part of the brain which is to do with social interactions. IF this is so we can hypothesise that autism is linked to damage or deficits of this part of the brain in particular.
