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WHAT IS “CRITICAL THINKING”? IS IT GENERALIZABLE? Christine L. McCarthy

Department of Planning, Policy, and Leadership Studies University of Iowa

When a group of critical thinking theorists get together to examine an issue, what emerges is not so much an answer to the original question as an object lesson in how one might profitably set about answering the question. Any question? Well, that is the question raised in the first of these two volumes. Just how “generalizable” is this thing that we have been pleased to call “critical thinking?”

The set of essays gathered together in The Generalizability of Critical Thinking, edited by Steven Norris, represent the outcome of a 1989 conference devoted to the exploration of the title issue, an issue that is surely one of the most controversial among those interested in promoting “critical thinking” in an educational context.’

The topics taken up, though all linked in some manner with the theme of the “generalizability,” or perhaps the “generality,” of critical thinking, are quite diverse. Clearly care has been taken to represent radically different positions on the theme. Each participant, too, has had a chance to refer and respond to the other authors. This collection is particularly valuable in that it is thoroughly interdisciplinary; insights from psychologists, reading specialists, philosophers of science, and feminists find a niche. In some cases these insights cut right at the foundations of the usual, if not yet the “received,” views on critical thinking. The theorists represented are cogni- zant of the dual problems of finding conceptual clarity and in gathering empirical data, and of the significance of reestablishing a linkage between philosophy and psychology. Valuable, too, are the many ”calls for further research,” both empirical and philosophical, that are sent out. Not only is this stimulating for the reader, it suggests that this text will play a large part in establishing the shape of the discourse in critical thinking.

With fourteen authors represented, there is a great variability in the theses presented. I will discuss here (for want of space] a limited selection that, I hope, indicates the diversity of the topics represented.

In the opening essay, Norris sets out the significance of the basic issue of generalizability succinctly. There are a number of practical questions that hinge on this point. For instance: Whether critical thinking is a fundamental goal of education (only if it is generalizable); whether we can effectively test for critical thinking per se (only if it is abstractable from content); whether we should teach critical thinking

1. Stephen P. Norris, ed., The Generalizability of Critical Thinking: Multiple Perspectives on aii EducationalIdeal(New York: Teachers College Press, 1992). This book willbe referredto as GCTwith page numbers in the text for all subsequent references.

EDUCATIONAL THEORY / Spring 1996 / Volume 46 / Number 2 0 1996 Board of Trustees / University of Illinois

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per se in a separate course (only if it is both abstractable from specific content, and transferable); and, whether the development of dispositions or abilities (or both) is the most appropriate goal (which depends on the generalizability and transferability of each) (GCT, p. 2).

Norris begins the unpacking of the “generalizability question’’ by separating out conceptual and psychological questions. Two questions, whether “some common- ality exists in the critical thinking needed from field to field,” and, whether “critical thinking [conceived in some way] provides a significant fund of resources for dealing effectively with each of these various fields, are more difficult to categorize, Norris writes, and hence resist resolution. Are such questions epistemological? Empirical/ psychological? Or something else again? (GCT, p. 1).

Norris seeks to address this basic question by examining three potential interpretations of what sort of term “critical thinking” is, addressing fundamental philosophical questions regarding theories of meaning. He considers three options. We might understand the noun critical thinking as a nominal kind, in which the intension of the term, and hence its extension, is conventionally set, and hence modifiable at will by the community of language users; a strict natural kind, in which the extension is determined not by a (changeable) conventional intension, but by the presence or absence of certain underlying traits; or a non-strict natural kind, in which the extension is determined by both conventional usage and underlying traits. Norris argues that much of the controversy over the “generalizability” of critical thinking stems from the different decisions theorists have made, implicitly or explicitly, as to the categorization of the term itself. If the term is to be interpreted as anominal kind term, then our task is simply to decide, as a community, on a useful intension, based perhaps on the values we wish to see pursued in educational contexts. If, on the other hand, the term is interpreted as a strict natural kind, we must turn to science and psychology to discover the significant underlying traits that account for the more superficial identifying characteristics typically associated with persons (correctly) deemed critical thinkers. If, however, the term is, as Norris suggests, best interpreted as a non-strict natural kind, we must pursue both the conceptual and the scientific projects simultaneously. But, in any case, we can expect little progress on the question of generalizability until the fundamental philosophi- cal project, namely, analyzing the nature of the term itself, is resolved.

Norris’s piece is a particularly valuable contribution, suggesting as it does that the problem for educational philosophers is deeper than often recognized. For, before deciding among the three “options” for the categorization, the theorist must reach a conclusion as to what sort of basic theory of meaning to endorse. Recognizing explicitly this link between ”applied” problems in educational philosophy and fundamental issues in ”pure” philosophy seems a move in the right direction, expanding appropriately the scope of the educational philosopher.

CHRISTINE L. MCCARTHY is Assistant Professor in the Department of Planning, Policy, and Leadership Studies at the University of Iowa. Her preferred correspondence address is 32 Greenview Dr., West Branch, IA 52558. Her primary areas of scholarship are critical thinking and ethics.

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Robert Ennis moves the discussion from these deep underlying issues to the more immediately pressing problems of practice. Perhaps the most controversial issue, he writes, is the pedagogical: Whether critical thinking should be taught (a) via a separate course, in which the focus is explicitly on general principles of good thinking, with or without application to “content”; (b) via the “infusion” approach, in which the principles are explicitly set out, in the context of schooling’s traditional subject-matter coursework; (c) via the “immersion” approach, in which students are encouraged to think deeply and well about the traditional subject matter, without any explicit instruction in the principles of thought at work; or (d) via some combination of approaches. Ennis sets out clearly the differences in these ap- proaches, and then turns to the examination of ‘‘one significant unresolved theoreti- cal aspect [of the basic practical issue]. . .whether critical thinking is subject specific, i.e., specific to subjects” (GCT, p. 21). He identifies three current versions of the thesis that critical thinking is indeed “subject-specific,” one an empirical argument, one epistemological, and one conceptual; he sets out these positions, and critiques and evaluates each.

The empirically based argument for specificity (and Ennis uses the term “do- main” here, in place of “subject,” to avoid the possible confusion or equivocation between “topic” and “school subject”) incorporates three basic principles. The first two, (1) that some background knowledge is necessary for thinking in any domain, and (2) that transfer of learned dispositions or abilities to other domains is likely if and only if (a) the initial learning involves practice across various domains and (b) the instruction focuses on achieving such transfer, together constitute the position that Ennis terms “moderate domain specificity.”

The first principle Ennis finds noncontroversial, although he notes that “neces- sity for critical thinking must not be confused by the unwary with “sufficiency” for same. The second principle is more problematic. Ennis argues that one cannot say whether the ”transfer” principle is acceptable or not, since the central concept, “domain,” is vague. Given that we have no generally accepted means of deciding with confidence that we still are in, or have just left, the ‘‘same domain,’’ we cannot effectively test the hypothesis that critical thinking efficacy has “transferred” across domains. Ennis suggests a focus for further research, that “to avoid the severe vagueness of the term ’domain’ [we might use] empirically determined nontransfer as one criterion for separate domains.. .employ[ing] the concept domain as a summa- rizing concept, rather than an independent variable in the research” (GCT, p. 28). That is, wemight proceedby assumingat the outset that critical thinking ability does not transfer across “domains,” and that a discovered “transfer failure” is the sign that allows us to identify discrete domains. After extensive and detailed empirical research on the extent of transfer of abilities or dispositions from the learning context to other specifically identified contexts, we would be in a position to say what the boundaries of different “domains” actually are, and hence just how limited (or unlimited) in applicability critical thinking instruction actually is.

“Extensive” does not nearly capture the magnitude of the research apparently envisioned. For, in this scheme, it is nontransfer that must be demonstrated to

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establish the desired boundaries. But “belonging to the same domain” appears to stand merely as a necessary condition, not a sufficient condition, for transfer. Nontransfer could occur due to the absence of any other necessary condition for transfer. It is difficult to imagine research extensive and detailed enough to show that all other necessary conditions for transfer had bcen met, and hence, that, finding a lack of transfer, separate domains had been discovered. It would seem better simply to abandon the quixotic quest to remove vagueness from a vague term, and to focus instead on the more positive, albeit more piecemeal, project of showing the extent of improvement in thinking attributable to specific instructional programs, regard- less of whether that improvement is “across domains” or not.

In any case, the acceptance of the first two specificity principles leads only to the conclusion that abstract, content-free approaches to critical thinking instruction ought not to be used alone; such acceptance, the moderate domain specificity position, is compatible with any other of the approaches set out, provided only that instruction “focuses on transfer.” It is the third principle, the rejection of the efficacy of general instruction in principles, that, if accepted, would limit us to the infusion or immersion approaches. The difficulty barring the critical thinking proponent from easy acceptance of this third principle is the mixed results or flawed nature of the many rcscarch projects intended to shed light on this empirical question. Ennis therefore calls for further research on this question, specifically for “large scale, long- term use of each of the four major approaches [to instruction] sponsored and carried out by disinterested parties able to make a long-term commitment” (GCT, p. 29). This would be of great value to critical thinking theorists of all sorts.

Ennis also examines the epistemological argument for subject specificity in critical thinking, and takes issue with the principle that since “different things” constitute good reasons for belief in different fields, critical thinking must be different in different fields. The concept of “field,” like “domain,” is fatally vague; moreover, even if some differences in “good reasons” among fields were to exist, there scem also to exist a significant number uf “interfield commonalities,” a common core of basic principles that apply in most fields. Ennis calls for empirical research into the form of arguments typically set out in traditional “fields,” to discover more about the extent to which commonalities exist.

Finally, Ennis examines the conceptual argument for critical thinking specific- ity, the argument considered to play a prominent role in John McPeck‘s work, that “the idea, general critical thinking ability, is meaningless” (GCT, p. 32). Ennis finds no merit in this argument, for its conclusion - that no instruction in general principles of reasoning is possible- does not follow from the fact that thinking must always be “about” something. Further, Ennis points out that McPeck himself displays in his own arguments the supposedly “inconceivable” ability to use general principles of logic.

Ralph A. Johnson addresses the basic problem of finding the most appropriate definition of the term “critical thinking,’’ noting the crucial point that “at present, there is no substantive consensus about the nature of critical thinking” (GCT, p. 38).

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He begins, however, by setting out a significant distinction, between “being general” and “being generalizable.” The first term indicates a broad applicability in principle of the elements of critical thinking; the second, in marked contrast, indicates the h u m a n abili ty to apply what is learned in one context to problems arising in many other contexts. So, critical thinking might well turn out to be general, but not generalizable. Generalizability per se, the target issue of this volume, is thus seen to be a psychological or pedagogical issue, one that cannot properly come into play until after the logical or philosophical issue of critical thinking generality is resolved.

Johnson sets out several basic problems for critical thinking theorists. The network problem is to discover the relation between critical thinking and related concepts, namely, rationality, creative thinking, problemsolving, decisionmaking, and so on. The scope problem concerns the range of the term, that is, whether critical thinking is taken to extend to the moral realm, to apply to decisions on what actions to take, or to be limited to questions of belief.

Johnson sets out a positive thesis in answer to these questions. Critical thinking, contra Ennis and Harvey Siegel, ought not to be extended to the realm of action. Johnson argues that the activity of evaluating wine, for example, although requiring “wits and judgment in addition to taste buds,” as well as background knowledge and the bringing to bear of appropriate standards, does not require one to be ”essentially engaged” in thinking and hence ought not to be counted as an instance of “critical thinking.” To extend the scope of the term in this way, Johnson writes, “seems gratuitous and confusing.” Johnson here reveals the depth of the problem of defining critical thinking, for Johnson’s position turns on the rejection of this sort of quality evaluation as an instance of “thinking.” Clearly, we are not likely to reach much agreement on what counts as ”critical” thinking when we can find no such agreement with respect to “thinking” per se. For Johnson, ”evaluating wine” is emphatically outside the bounds. Yet I take it that many would hold that such an evaluation not only is an instance of “thinking,” but is even a paradigm case of thinking, and hence could certainly, were certain conditions to be met, be counted as “critical” thinking.

When I read and evaluate these texts, I do take myself to be engaged in a reasonable attempt a t “critical thinking.’’ Am I no longer thinking critically, because I am no longer thinking, when I break off to go fishing? In the first case, I am evaluating arguments, a mental product of some other thinker, looking for connec- tions between thoughts, for implications, for consistency, and so on. In the second, I am evaluating natural conditions, looking for connections between signs such as temperature, cover, structure, and things signified (fish). In the Peircean and Deweyan sense, the latter case is the very model of “thinking.” For it is in the course of just such an end-oriented activity that I make observations, formulate hypotheses, take action, evaluate the results, reformulate hypotheses, and take further action. A considerable background knowledge is required for a successful conclusion to the activity. It seems clear that certain character traits are required for success, such as patience, persistence, and an ability to deal peacefully with total frustration. Yet, it is apparently Johnson’s view that the close link of the required cognitive operations

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with physical action means that “thinking” is not occurring, or (if this is too strong) at least that the person fishing is not “essentially engaged” in thinking. Critical thinking, sensu Johnson, must involve thinking about thought. One thinks critically only when engaged in the evaluation of a line of reasoning, an “intellectual product.‘‘ This is a far more narrow interpretation than is commonly offered by Ennis, Siegel, and Richard Paul.

Additionally, Johnson would require of the critical thinker the ability to articulate the reasons behind his or her judgment. A critic, he writes, is “someone who criticizes, that is, produces critical commentary’’ (GCT, p. 44). This require- ment reflects the fact that, like Paul, Johnson places great weight on the ties between critical thinker and community. “Self-corrective” thinking is, in his view, only possible when the thinker has the opportunity to engage in social interaction with a community of fellow thinkers: “Although clearly people can to some degree monitor their own processes and occasionally discover error, in the final analysis it seems they are led to a recognition of their errors by the challenges and criticisms coming from other minds” (GCT, p. 46).

Johnson emphasizes what he terms “the ability to take criticism” as a “defining characteristic of a critical person” (GCT, p. 48). And the criticism that one must be willing to take, he points out, may be ”hostile, not just friendly, fire ... real and forceful (and sometimes pungent) criticism” (GCT, p. 51). A rather disturbing note, this. It does seem reasonable to require of the critical thinker that he or she be willing to engage in “real” arguments, namely, in the serious evaluation of the merits of deeply opposing positions, to avoid the trap Paul points to; of dogmatically seeing only the “strengths” of one’s favored position while seeing only the “weaknesses” of others’. It is not equally clear, though, why Johnson includes among the commu- nity of critical thinkers those offering “hostile fire.” While being “able to take it” bespeaks a strength of character that is (all too often) a necessary condition, in a practical sense, of effectively engaging in public discourse, it nonetheless seems a bit much to include this strength as one of the necessary conditions, in a logical sense, of the critical thinker. There might well be eminently reflective, reasonable, and valuable commentary, framed by expert ”critical thinkers,” that is not being heard simply because those particular critical thinkers are dsinclined by temperament to engage in hostile, rancorous, disputes. If such disinclination should be a gender- related, or even a sex-related trait, a political dimension arises with this proposed requirement. More likely, we would find such a requirement ruling out otherwise exemplary “critical thinkers” from across the genetic or cultural board - an unnecessary loss to the community.

While Ennis’s and Norrids essays are notable in their calls for further philosophi- cal and empirical research, Johnson, again striking a discordant note, closes his essay with a call for a “moratorium” on further attempts to define adequately critical thinking. Having set out briefly, and succinctly, the views of what he terms “The Group of Five” (complete with caps, “The Five” are Ennis, Paul, McPeck, Siegel and Matthew Lipman), having provided a cogent study of various shortcomings of each, and having set out his own view as to the most appropriate meaning of critical

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thinking, Johnson writes: “Finally, I propose a moratorium: Given that the field is already dialectically crowded, any further attempts must deal with the issue of burden of proof. No new conception of critical thinking should be tabled without its proponent having shown important defects in the extant definitions” (GCT, p. 53).

But given that he himself has just provided us with a plethora of potentially telling “important defects” in the definitions of the “Group of Five,” it would seem that the proposed moratorium cannot last very long. One could, for openers, simply cite Johnson. One must note, though, that The Five, by the end of this essay, has been transmuted into at least The Six, provided that one counts Johnson’s own significant substantive contribution to the issue.

Robert Lockhart moves the discussion away from the difficult question of whether critical thinking can be taught as a generalizable skill, to focus on a somewhat simpler question, whether “memory” can be taught as a generalizable skill. The similarities in the problems encountered are marked, in that there is much evidence that ability to memorize is strongly content-bound, yet there is also evidence that certain “general principles of memory processes” exist, which could profitably be taught in a free-standing course. The building of a strong memory in one area - for instance, an ability to recall a lengthy series of numbers - does not automatically give one a strong memory for, say, names. In this sense memory skills do not transfer. But, the processes, strategies, and principles useful in developing a powerful memory in one area are just as useful in other areas. Hence general instruction in those processes, strategies, and principles would be useful.

Lockhart believes that such parallels are instructive. But - this is his main point - “generalizability depends not only on the generality of the rules for rational thought, but hinges much more critically on factors that control access to those rules.” And psychological “access” to the applicable rules may be very much context-bound, even when the rules themselves are general. Lockhart uses the term ”abductive remembering’’ to indicate the mental move from observing particular data to accessing applicable rules, schema, and concepts to be applied to those data, and writes, ”[mlany of the observed failures to obtain generalization or transfer from the solving of one problem to the solving of novel, isomorphic problems can be thought of as a failure of abductive memory” (GCT, p. 58). Lockhart cites research in problem solving indicating that experimental subjects, even when initially exposed to the “solution-giving concept,” will tend not to make use of that concept unless the novel problem incorporates “retrieval cues” that facilitate access to the concept. “Transfer” of learning seems to depend not on whether the solution is available to the subject, but on whether usable cues for abductive remembering are available.

The pedagogical implication is that the student must be “trained in such a way that the data of experience are able to trigger rapidly the cognitive structures appropriate to the task” (GCT, p. 64). Lockhart concludes that students must be exposed to a wide range of the “specific contents” in which a general principle might apply, so as to learn to recognize the specific content as “an instance embodying that principle’’ (GCT, p. 64).

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Sharon Bailin argues that to become critical thinkers students need to gain an epistemological understanding, in other words, an understanding of the way that knowledge is developed. To do this, the students must be disabused of the notion that “creativity” is something that “has nothing to do with critical thinking” (GCT, p. 95). Bailin argues, contra McPeck, that logical evaluation is an integral part of creative process by which new ideas are generated.

The generation of new ideas, Bailin reasons, must be “constrained in some way by the same criteria and principles that constrain evaluation,” for if this were not the case, we would find our new ideas generated at random, without connection to the problem to be solved. Such a random generation of ideas would certainly seem indicative of a serious mental disfunction, and it seems clear that the normally functioning mind must be constrained in some way in its operation by existing beliefs, beliefs both about the subject matter and about reasoning norms, including logic.

This is an intriguing hypothesis that gives rise to a number of puzzling unaddressed questions. One question is, does a person have to consciously know any logic in order to be constrained by its norms, to perform feats of unconscious logical evaluation? It is an unconscious process of evaluation that must be at issue when one is concerned with the generation of ideas. The ideas that “occur” to one consciously are those that have already been vetted, and have passed muster, while the rejects are discarded without ever seeing the light of day. If “logic” is required as a constraint on this process, perhaps there is something to be said for the Platonic notion that the learning we do in logic class is a matter of remembering what we have unconsciously known from the start.

Though Bailin denies that the process of idea generation seems mysterious, provided one properly recognizes the historical, connected relation of each “new” idea to those that have gone before, the sense of wonder remains. It is safe to say that no psychologist can yet explain the neurophysiology of thought, the actual physical process by which new ideas are generated, though research is intense. Surely constraints there are; if these are the constraints of logic, then a Quinean naturalized view of logic seems required. The strictures of our logical systems then would be interpreted as simply the articulating of the processes by which our minds do and must work in reasoning. Or perhaps we should view “logic” in a Peircean fashion, as an integral part of the (unfolding) structure of the universe, the laws that the mind, itself a part of the universe, apprehends by il lume naturale. Logic, as we know it, is thus a discovered, not an invented, system. Indeed, on Bailin’s view, we must accept this fact of logic origination. For if we were on the contrary to take logic to be a human construction, how then could we take the mind’s very functioning to be dependent upon such a system? Yet, against this, we must recognize that various systems of logical rules can be, and have been, devised, as “human constructions.” Moreover, it is a very common occurrence that quite illogical ideas and systems of belief can be readily generated by the human mind. Such ideas can be quite robust, persisting even after the constraints of logic that prove them untenable have been clearly set forth. And, as every logic student knows, sequents which can be (more or less) readily

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proven correct in logic [by the professor) are often much less than intuitively obvious, and may be strongly counterintuitive, remaining so even after a most close and arduous scrutiny. Nevertheless, despite [or perhaps because of) the raising of these and other questions, Bailin’s linking of logical analysis and creative thought brings to the discourse a fascinating subject.

Harvey Siegel emphasizes again the importance of the prior question - what do we take critical thinking to mean? - to the question of generalizability. Siegel makes apoint that is too-often overlooked, namely, that we do indeed find significant areas of agreement among many theorists about this. Whatever their differences, most theorists take critical thinking to have two components - first, that of cognitive skills and abilities, the “reasons assessment” component, and second, that of attitude, the “spirit” component. With respect to the generalizability of reason assessment abilities, Siegel provides a welcome depolarization of the issue, for he sides with both the generalists and the specialists. He argues that at least some of the factors relevant to reason assessment are partly generalizable, a conclusion that would undoubtedly be acceptable to most (if not all) critical thinking theorists. Although polemics are more fun, Siegel’s moderate reading of the state of the field is no doubt the more accurate. It may well be that here, as so often, there is less dividing us than meets the eye.

However, Siegel argues that the critical spirit, that which leads one actually to take the trouble of engaging in critical thinking, is fully generalizable - though Siegel notes that it is actually conceptual “generality,” not generalizability, that is at issue. While it may be that the same spirit is a necessary condition for the initiation of and persistence in critical thinking in every problem, it may not be the case that acquiring the disposition necessary to engage in critical thinking in one field (however delineated) guarantees, or even increases the probability, that one will become similarly disposed in other fields. Whether this generalization occurs remains an empirical, and unanswered, question.

Siegel, like Ennis, gives much attention to the “research” problem of discovering the limits of the various fields. But this difficult question would become moot if we were simply to cease thinking of ”field” as referring to a natural kind. While the boundaries of any field are indeedvague, it seems that this is merely indicative of the fact that various “fields” are delineated merely for human convenience. One can indeed draw the boundaries in any way that suits one’s purpose - no amount of “research” can resolve the issue definitively. It is, however, clear that individual, concrete problem situations exist, and that these are more or less similar in their features to one another. It might be expected that whatever principles are not universally applicable would be quite variously applicable, their applicability de- pending on the specific features of the problem at hand and not on the “field” to which the problem is conventionally assigned. As Siegel notes, some research programs in archeology may demand recourse to statistical analyses, no matter how many others do not, and there may be problems in mathematics in which principles of induction become pertinent. What matters in critical thinking pedagogy is not whether certain principles are ”field-specific”; what matters is simply that a

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principle be applicable, and then generalizable, across a varied array of the specific problems that might be encountered in “real life.”

Siegel argues further that one ought not to conclude, merely because certain sorts of arguments and appeals to certain sorts of evidence may loosely characterize different fields, that those different fields should be considered to have different “epistemologies.” As he notes, in all fields, “a good reason is that which warrants a conclusion” (GCT, p. 102). An “epistemology,” a theory about the nature of the justification of the justified beliefs, must apply across the board, for it explains what it is to “warrant” a conclusion; it gives us “a theoretical understandmg of the nature of reasons” (GCT, p. 102).

Siegel appears to believe, however, that there is one, and only one, plausible candidate for that epistemology. Because, Siegel writes, critical thinking involves the assessing of reasons, the epistemology underlying it must “maintain a distinc- tion between rational justification and truth [having] a radically nonepistemic conception of truth”; “reject relativism, and hold that the goodness of reasons.. .is absolute in that it does not vary across persons, times, cultures, and so on”; and hold that “rational justification is a fallible indicator of truth” (GCT, p. 104): “This complex of epistemological theses is required for a coherent conception of critical thinking, at least if critical thinking is to be regarded as a defensible educational ideal” (GCT, p. 104). Siegel acknowledges that the “required” epistemology involves positions that would be “in some circles contentious.”

There is no doubt that Siegel can and does present very strong arguments, elsewhere, for these conclusions. But three problems arise with the argument given here. First, a “coherent conception of critical thinking” seems to be what we are groping our way toward, not something we presently possess. Lacking this, it seems a bit premature to say exactly what features an epistemological theory would have to have in order to “fit” with a conception currently under construction. Second, it seems that Siegel has the conceptual cart before the epistemological horse - surely it is our conception of critical thinking that must be built upon the foundation of our soundest epistemological theory, and not vice versa. Having identified and defended independently an epistemology, a theory of what is required for reasons to justify belief, one would then be in a position to say what counts, in practice, as an instantiation of good reasoning. If, instead, the epistemology is to be judged by its conformity to the strictures and requirements of critical thinking, we would need to assume that we somehow know how to recognize examples of good reasoning, of critical thinking, when we see them. Our epistemological task would then be largely descriptive, a matter of setting out the general features of those instances and the general principles implicit in them. But how are we to accomplish that necessary feat of recognition? Perhaps we are, as Bailin suggests, possessed of an intuition for this sort of thing. If one rejects this view, and if one also rejects (as it seems Siegel would) a pragmatic interpretation of the nature of “rational” evaluation, it seems that we are unable to take the necessary first step of identifying instances of excellent critical thinking, and so cannot build an epistemology on the foundation of “what critical thinking requires.’’

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A third problem lurks in the phrase “if it [critical thinking] is to be regarded as a defensible educational ideal” (GCT, p. 104). Is it, actually, a conceivable prospect among critical thinking theorists (excepting Jane Roland Martin, as shall be seen) that critical thinking, once fully understood, might turn out not to be an educational ideal? It seems that what most theorists are attempting to do in developing the concept of critical thinking is to capture, precisely, the nature of a certain fundamen- tal educational ideal. If we are certain at the outset that critical thinking when properly conceived is an educational ideal, then Siegel’s approach would find us attempting to build our epistemological theories on the groundwork of our educa- tional ideals. But this again is problematic, or, at least, it is problematic unless one begins by adopting a fundamentally pragmatic framework.

I believe that there is a great deal that can be said in support of just such a pragmatic framework, and I will take up some of the relevant issues a bit later on. Here it is enough to say that the pragmatic interpretation seems to be incompatible with Siegel’s approach to the conceptualization of critical thinking but that, at the same time, without the pragmatic basis, Siegel’s program of epistemological/critical thinking inquiry cannot get off the ground. One must be able to find an empirical, naturalistic justification or some independent means of testing and evaluating one’s proposed general principles of thought, and ultimately there is no such means, other than appeal to practice.

Anthony Blair addresses the generalizability question by focusing on one narrow aspect of critical thinking, the evaluation of one particular source of information, observation reports, as a model case of critical thinking. He concludes that, with respect to at least this one aspect of critical thinking, there do exist “general principles,” procedures to follow and questions to ask, that would be of value in any context.

Blair sets critical thinking in the context of good “doxastic management” practices. If one has the dual goal of having mostly true beliefs and engaging in mostly successful actions, one must undertake to examine critically the support for one’s beliefs, accepting or rejecting beliefs on the basis of good reasons, modifying the strength of beliefs in accordance with the strength of evidence, subjecting important beliefs to continuing inquiry, and maintaining a willingness to modify existing beliefs on the basis of that inquiry. Since much of our belief system is acquired ”second-hand,” the result of our accepting reports of others as evidence, the critical analysis of such reports becomes central. Blair sets out briefly what he terms “standard fare,” a series of points to be considered in evaluating such outside reports. The critical thinker must know what these are, and must also be able and disposed to consider them.

The question that arises in reading this essay [a question that applies more generally) is, When does a “good tip” deserve to be elevated to the status of ”general principle”? Blair, following Norris, sets out six “principles”: (1 J the observer must have suitable background knowledge; (2) he or she must have had sufficient time for the observation; ( 3 ) conditions must have been favorable during the observation; (4) a record of the observation must have been made promptly; (5) the record must have

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been made by the observer; (6) no leading questions can have elicited the report.2 Now, all of these are good points, consideration of which might lead one rightly to devalue a faulty report. But, to term these items “principles of good thinking” seems an excessively lofty characterization. On this model it would seem we will discover that there is an indefinitely large set of “general principles,” a set consisting of all the good things to do that pertain to thinking. Is any useful purpose served by couching our advice on thinking in such terms? Would not “pointers,” or “rules of thumb,” for thinkers be a sufficiently admirable product of our efforts? If we were to limit our rhetoric, and call our recommendations no more than that, we might doubt that our pieces of advice together constitute a “general theory” of good thinking; we will find ourselves left with nothing but a pragmatically justified set of recommended practices. Pragmatists among us, of course, will not find this too alarming.

Blair speaks of the requirement to motivate students actually to use the principles once acquired. The greatest educational difficulty, though, seems not to reside in instilling the tendency to ask appropriate questions, such as “I wonder whether my only source is biased in some way?“ but in inducing and, where necessary, enabling the potential critical thinker to find the energy and initiative to seek out the answers to such questions when facing a real (as opposed to a “practice”) problem. It is all too easy to see how the process of “critical thinking” can degenerate into the raising of purely idle questions. This is a useless practice to be sure, but one very likely to generate excellent scores on critical thinking tests. What can prevent this? Only the development in the student of a serious concern with the results of his or her thinking, associated with the belief that serious problems exist in the “real world,” and that what one thinks and then does about them will actually matter. ”False positives” on critical thinking tests are at least as great a problem as “false negatives. ”

This concludes the set of essays intended to advance the thesis of the generalizability of critical thinking. Our attention turns at this point to a consider- ation of the arguments against the thesis, presented in the four remaining essays by Martin, Olson and Nandita Babu, McPeck, and Charles Blatz.

McPeck returns us to the conceptual question of the generalizability, or gener- ality, of the set of skills called “critical thinking” skills. McPeck distinguishes, first, between what is “logically general” and what is “cognitively generalizable,” noting that the fact that a principle applies logically gives us no assurance that it will be applied in practice by a particular individual in a concrete problem situation: “[aln agent’s choice to apply some general principle such as conservation, reversibility, or a principle of logic seems more reasonably attributable to a direct acquaintance with the particular phenomena in question than it does to the application of a generic skill” (GCT, p. 203).

McPeck points out yet another significant term that is used quite variably by different theorists: “transfer.” The traditional sense of the question of the “transfer of training” was “whether learning a particular task helps or hinders the learning of

2. Stephen P. Norris, “Defining Observational Competence,” Science Educcition 68 [1984):129-142.

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another different kind of task.” Given this meaning it would seem (though McPeck does not suggest this) that even if we were to conclude with McPeck that critical thinking in physics is something quite different from critical thinking in art, we might still find that the teaching of critical thinking in one area “transfers” in the original sense, in that it assists the student in the learning of a different critical thinking in some other unrelated area. The question of “transfer,” in this sense, is quite separate from the question of the existence of “general” thinking skills, and also from the question of the “generalizability” of skills learned in one field to reasoning in another.

Martin, in striking contrast to all the other theorists collected here, emphatically rejects the common assumption that critical thinking is a thing that should be valued. Martin is concerned first about the wisdom of assuming that critical thinking - “however that notion is to be construed“ - should be considered a general aim of education(GCT, p. 163). Surely Martin is on strong ground here. One ought not to be able to find compelling justification for the general teaching of critical thinking in advance of any interpretation of the meaning of the term - unless, of course, the term is taken simply to refer to “that which is ideal,” in which case no justification is necessary. Martin does, however, have a particular idea in mind as to the construction to be associated with the term. She offers as an example of critical thinking a story of a person’s deplorable “distancing” of himself emotionally from the lives of a crowd protesting segregation. In another example, a “critical thinking’’ historian finds, in an incident of campus rape, occasion to rethink the history of the university. Each person, in Martin’s view, has used ”abstract critical thinking” to transform a real life problem into an “interesting intellectual question’’ (GCT, p. 163). Critical thinking, we are told, demands the establishment and maintenance of an emotional distance from the problem under consideration, a “radical separation of subject and object”(GCT, p. 164).

Martin condemns both critical thinking and the entire educational status quo, observing that ”a critical thinking premised on distance is consonant with the goals of education today not only because it cuts reason off from love and the 3 C’s [care, concern, and connection] and divorces self from other, but because it separates mind from body and thought from action” (GCT, p. 165). These effects, Martin writes, are “precisely what our schools and colleges are expected to do” (GCT, p. 171).

Expected to do, by whom? This was not, as Martin notes, the goal of Dewey. Nor would these be the goals of contemporary “Deweyan” educators. Nor would these be among the goals avowed by any critical thinking theorist that springs to mind. Among all the multifarious bits of reasoning advice now collected under the rubric of critical thinking, I would venture that no one will ever find written, “Be cold and unemotional, distant and uncaring. Never get involved, take no actions, avoid the experience of passion and energy at all costs.” As this packet is not to be found among the aims of advocates of critical thinking, it must be that Martin fears that these are the unintended effects of such instruction. What is it about “thinking,” even thinking very carefully and rigorously, guided by external standards and internal critique, that might tend to produce such appalling effects? Martin does not say.

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Martin chides a group of students who sit reading Plato while observing a protest action, and condemns their passive “spectatorship,” their failure to join the others in action. But Martin fails to condemn what would be a more egregious fault, namely, taking action without having first taken thought. Observing, and then thinking about what one has seen, is not in and of itself a moral failing (although it is pointless if it never issues in action of any kind). But that undramatic process of reflective thought too often is all that saves us from taking actions that would count as moral failings. Joining a crowd that is, say, chasing down a hatedperson, to stone him or her to death, is “participatory”; it involves a great deal of personal “passion.” But it would not be a good thing, as surely Martin would agree.

Apparently there is no way for those who would study “critical thinking” (or, for that matter, study anything) of escaping the descent into spectatorship. Martin asserts, “Even if analyses of critical thinking incorporated the care and connection, intimacy and love ... an education in critical thinking would still support spectatorship” (GCT, p. 173). Why? Because “the end [of such courses] is still understanding. The theories gained still serve as conceptual lenses through which to see the world” (GCT, p. 174). Martin believes that seeing the world through “lenses” creates ”distance”; moreover, any effort to understand what one sees, or experiences, has that negative distancing effect. The teaching of any discipline has this same effect, for such teaching “casts young people in the single role of spectator of life ... teach[es] our young to engage in a human activity - theoretical inquiry - (which] is itself a form of spectatorship” (GCT, p. 174). It matters not that education, as Martin acknowledges, can provide students with a wide and varied array of conceptual lenses. Any view of the world that is theoretically informed is thought to lead to spectatorship, and the teaching of critical thinking simply “teaches an especially sophisticated type of spectatorship” (GCT, p. 174). Martin recommends as an alternative, in a section called “Letting Life Happen,” that we simply live in the world, hoping to acquire “the kind of familiarity with it that we usually reserve for our friends and acquaintances” (GCT, p. 174).

Martin relies heavily on the metaphor of personal “distance.” She acknowledges that sometimes people arrive at conclusions and take actions that arenot so good, and may be horrific. But such moral lapses are not seen as resulting from any problem in the person’s thinking, from errors in judgment, or from failures in critical evaluation. No, the problem is, simply, too much distance - or, which can be just as bad, too little distance. For it seems that if one gets “too close” to one‘s subject one can have just as much trouble seeing what is right as one would if one were too far away. One is required to be at just the right emotional and interpersonal distance. Unfortu- nately, there seems to be no reliable way to assess the suitability of one‘s distance, no way to tell what distance would be just right, nor even what this metaphorical “distance” actually amounts to, in practice. Consider, for example, the sad case Martin cites of Robert Oppenheimer, the inventor of the atomic bomb, who, it seems, had to face up to a particularly difficult subject-to-object positioning problem. Martin tells us that “Oppenheimer, who was his own object of thought, needed to distance himself from himself and his project in order to decrease his distance from

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the bomb’s victims. Too little distance from the project prevented him from drawing into his circle of concern those whom it harmed” (GCT, p. 178). Clearly, the man had got his “distances” all wrong. But how was he to know? Perhaps even more puzzling - how does Martin know? Recall that ”thinking” has been ruled out as a viable approach to the solution of such a problem. Evidently, one just knows, and that is all.

As Martin’s examples certainly show, it is quite possible for a person who is abstract and theoretical to be also cool, unemotional, and “distant.” But, to exhibit by example the co-existence of traits is not to show a causal or necessary link between them. Surely most of us, to counter Martin’s examples, can think immedi- ately of persons who are highly abstract and theoretical in their reasoning, while also exhibiting an admirable affect of warmth, caring, and concern. And the absence of abstract, theoretical thinking by no means guarantees that the emotional reactions occurring will be instances of caring and concern - examples here are all too easy to come by. Moreover, even an affect of the most intense caring and concern, if it blindsoneto the possibility that one’s thinkingmight bein error, wouldnotbeagood thing in a person. It would seem that Martin should be demanding that both sorts of virtue, cognitive and affective, be taught.

But, even if one were to grant the desirability of achieving this dual goal, it does not follow that both cognitive and affective virtue should be subsumed under the heading “critical thinking.’’ We do, after all, already possess a charming term, ”education,” which would seem to cover in one fell swoop the fullest possible spectrum of desirable goals, both cognitive and affective. There seems no advantage to be achieved by requiring the term “critical thinking” to do precisely the same work.

In Martin’s proposed extension of the meaning of the term “critical thinking” to include intimacy and love, we see most clearly the problem that has followed us throughout. If critical thinking is to be interpreted as rationality, and if, as such, it is to serve as the comprehensive educational ideal, then everything that is desirable in education must somewhere find a secure lodging within the concept. Critical thinking must then be taken to include, not merely logic, both formal and informal, not merely problemsolving, not merely “everyday” reasoning, decisionmaking, probabilistic reasoning, abductive thinking, and moral thinking, it must also include the dispositions to act on what has been learned, as well as the ability and disposition to feel deeply, to empathize, and to care. There is no doubt that all of these are desirable in aperson; there is no doubt that all should, and do, find a place in the usual conceptions of education. But unless critical thinking is construed in a fashion that is more narrow than this, our labors result merely in having acquired an alternative term for education, and there seems little point in that exercise.

Olson and Babu announce that, indeed, there is such a thing as critical thinking, but - and this seems a decided understatement - that what critical thinking is taken to be “varies somewhat.“ Olson and Babu critique what they take to be common assumptions about the nature of critical thinking, specifically, that it is characterized by “abstractness, systematicity, appropriateness, and validity [and] consist[s] of a set of principles or rules which could be taught” (GCT, p. 181). The

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authors suggest instead that the word “critical” in ”critical thinking” functions merely as an emphasizer, indicating merely that the thinking in question is good, clear, or well done. Critical thinking is thus “good thinking.’’ If so, the problem for critical thinking theorists is to say precisely what it is that is laudable in thinking. It is not surprising that some very general points will emerge, while some of the recommended practices will have a much more narrow range of applicability. Olson and Babu’s view is thus consistent with a philosophically pragmatic view of both rationality and critical thinking.

Bringing a psychological perspective to bear on the issue, Olson and Babu discredit the widely accepted notion among critical thinking theorists that we can explain a person’s critical thinking performance by reference to that person’s possession of critical thinking skills, abilities, and dispositions. They offer the notion of the ”dispositional trait” as a prime example of the fundamental attribution error, that is, attributing causal efficacy to some essential traits of the person rather than to a collection of situational factors. Olson and Babu argue that “[tlo build a theory or a pedagogy of critical thinking on the development of skills, abilities, and dispositions is, then, to embrace an obsolete psychology” (GCT, p. 183).

Olson and Babu also point out that the much-sought-after ”rules” of critical thinking may turn out to be, like the rules of grammar, the sort of rules that, though useful in characterizing thinking, are not at all useful as a set of rules to be followed when setting out to think. Just as a fluent language-speaker does not proceed by deliberately following grammatical rules, Olson and Babu argue, neither can one practice effective thinking by learning and following good thinking rules. The traditional rule-based pedagogy (discover the rule, teach the rule, practice using the rule) that lends credence to this misconception is also, they maintain, “to a large extent, defunct” (GCT, p. 183).

Olson and Babu, like Johnson, see critical thinking as a matter of reflecting upon, interpreting, analyzing, and assessing thought. And since the spoken word is fleeting, it is the written word that is most appropriately the subject of that assessment; hence critical thinking is “essentially synonymous with literacy.” Critical thinking, they stipulate, is thus “[tlhe interpretation, analysis and criticism of written texts [and, further,] of everything else that may be treated as a text,” including nature itself (GCT, p. 184).

The conceptual “tools” required for this task are “the concepts expressed through speech act and mental state terms such as ‘say,‘ ‘mean,’ ‘intend,’ ‘infer,’ ‘assume,’ ‘understand’ and the like” (GCT, p. 185). A theory of critical thinking thus would involve the “semantic analysis” of such terms, while a theory of the development of critical thinking would involve “an account of the acquisition and use by children of these concepts” (GCT, p. 185). The practice of critical thinking involves recognizing such speech acts in a text, that is, recognizing an assumption as such, and understanding the import of such terms. Olson and Babu present research indicating that children as young as four-years-old can recognize an unwarranted assertion, and by the age of six may ”characterize an utterance from a theoretical point of view” (GCT, p. 188). Understanding more complex speech act

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verbs, such as infer, interpret, and remcrnber, is found to increase steadily during the junior high and high school years. Rather shocking is the authors’ finding, from “conversations with teachers,‘‘ that while some teachers use these concepts regu- larly as the language of instruction, others, wanting their students “to think rather than to learn words for talking about thinking,” actually avoid using this sort of language.

Blatz, in the final essay of the collection, advances an argument opposing the standardized testing of critical thinking, an argument which by this point seems a sure winner, given the radically different interpretations of critical thinking clearly extant. Blatz, in fact, offers yet another plausible interpretation of critical thinking. Critical thinking is “a constructive activity of pursuing well-supported beliefs, decisions, plans, and actions [which] requires care and effort of the thinker to meet certain expectations” (GCT, p. 207). It involves ”applying reason, in self-moderated ways and constrained by standards of various sorts, to questions we take seriously in some context’’ (GCT, p. 208). Blatz contends that there is a ”contextual variance” in the standards of reasoning the thinker is expected to meet, such standards being drawn up and maintained by particular communities of inquiry. The validity of a particular test can thus extend no further than the limits of the community using the standards on which the test is based. Moreover, the background knowledge of unwritten “givens“ brought to the test by each student, will vary with the individual, limiting the construct validity even more, at least down to the level of a particular class using a particular text, at a given time.

The lack of validity of critical thinking tests is not even the worst problem. Blatz argues that standardized critical thinking tests are not only unnecessary, but would, if used, actuallybe counterproductive. The teacher hoping for good test results would findit necessary to limit the innovative, nonconforming thoughts of the student, and hence would work to inhibit the “constructive and modifying functions“ of thought, leading to a “subtle political and intellectual repression” (GCT, p. 216).

While Blatz allows that one can effectively test for an understanding of straight- forward logical principles, he argues that this sort of test cannot serve as a test for critical thinking, since, for any community, logical norms constitute only a small part of the accepted standards of thought. Blatz concludes that if we are to test critical thinking, we must design tests that “elicit.. .students’ own descriptions of their thinking and assumptions,” allowing the teacher/evaluator to make an individual- ized assessment of the thinking of the particular student, in the particular problem, given his or her particular assumptions and background information (GCT, p. 220). Only such “localized testing” would be a true test of critical thinking.

Clearly, if individual teachers are to carry out effectively the crucial role Blatz describes, it is the teachers themselves, and prospective teachers, who are most urgently in need of critical thinking programs. (Assuming, that is, that there is a deficiency in current practice.) Yet perhaps a better, albeit long-term, approach to the problem would be to work toward a fundamental reevaluation, and reconceptualization, of the profession of teaching, both on the part of society at large,

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and on the part of teachers themselves. Teachers are seldom seen, and seldom see themselves, as “critical intellectuals,” as experts in critical thought, in.the critical, or at least thoughtful, evaluation of social, scientific, or aesthetic issues. Nor are they often seen as fulfilling a fundamental societal role, rife with political implications.

SOME CONCLUDING REMARKS Do we find out in this volume whether critical thinking is in fact generalizable?

No. We do find, however, a very forceful demonstration of the pertinence, and the difficulty, of the prior conceptual question, What do we mean to convey by the term “critical thinking?” Moreover, by the end of this collection, it becomes abundantly clear to the reader that the foundational issues Norris raises regarding the nature of this concept are of surpassing importance. Consider: If we take it that a “concept” is simply a set, the members of the set being the instantiations of the concept, how are we to proceed when attempting to determine the “marks” of the concept, and hence the meaning of the term? If we accept at the outset that the set members are clearly demarcated as “of one kind,” a natural kind, we may merely examine those members, the instantiations of the concept, until we believe we have reached an adequate, useful listing of the traits that determine set membership, and the differences that are permissible within the set. We proceed under the guidance of a preanalytical intuition as to set membership; that is, we must be able in some way to “pick out” those individuals or instances that belong to the set from those that do not. Taking this tack, we surely will admit that the resulting list of the marks of the concept may well be incomplete, or even erroneous in some respects, humans being the quite fallible investigators that we are. But, we will nevertheless be confident, and maintain that we are entitled tobe confident, about the fundamental descriptors we have identified. In this interpretation, there is a definite “truth” or ”falsity” to the claims we make as to the nature, the qualities, of “critical thinking.”” And, chief among these claims is the claim that critical thinking is, more or less, to some degree, “generalizable. ”

It appears that this view of the nature of the concept is driving much of the debate about the characteristics of critical thinking. The question “Is critical thinking generalizable?” itself seems to presuppose this conception. It seems to imply, or at least is easily interpreted as implying, that we already know what the instances of critical thinking are, but have yet to identify fully the range and nature of properties the instances all share.4 The project required is essentially empirical: we must examine closely all forms of critical thinking, and determine which are generaliz- able, and to, what extent. But, as so many of the contributors to this volume point out (or demonstrate), we do not yet have, except among limited communities, strong consensus as to what instances of thinking are to be counted as critical thinking. The problem cannot be resolved by more closely examining the “concept” of critical thinking, to clarify the existing boundaries. We cannot determine “what counts” as

3 . We may not be in a position to say with certainty whether any claim is actually true or false, of course. 4. Or, at least, the sorts of properties that tend to recur among those instances, providing them Wittgenstein’s overall ”family resemblence.”

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members of the set by examining the marks of the concept while, at the same time, attempting to determine the marks of the concept by examining the members of the set. This would only lead us to an endless circling.

We may, instead, interpret the concept as a set resulting from human acts of construction undertaken for the purpose of solving particular human problems, constrained by the factors constituting the problem situation. This is a route commonly taken. We might, to take an example from botany, be tempted to ask in a taxonomic problem, What is the “true nature,” what are the essential characteris- tics, of Mertensia viridis (the mountain bluebell)! Should a morphologically dispar- ate group of specimens be included within the species or be excluded from it? In such a case we cannot permit ourselves the luxury of reliance on an intuitive recognition of “sameness.“ That ”sameness” is precisely what is in question - whether two such apparently different individuals should be recognized as belonging “really” to the same group, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. We do, however, in such a problem have a criterion of overriding significance, which, though itself vague, can give us some guidance. Namely, we accept that by species we refer to a set of individuals sharing (to some degree, hence the vagueness) a common gene pool. The individuals must to some extent be able to interbreed, and perhaps actually do so. Note that in this example, the crucial decision, to include or to exclude, must still be made by the person investigating, in connection with an investigating commu- nity. But, given the existence of accepted standards of judgment, that decision is by no means arbitrary, and it is subject always to purview and revision by the relevant community. Note, too (and this is an important albeit rather dismaying point) that there is no clear-cut ”truth” or “falsity” to the decision. The most we can say is, for instance, “Jones classifies the specimens as two varieties of one species, while Smith has them as two separate species.” We can, of course, add that Jones’s (or Smith’s) treatment is superior in terms of, say, its parsimony, its usefulness, its consistency with other treatments, and so forth. But we do not trouble ourselves with the notion that there is some “real” truth of the matter about species membership that we are required to discover. It appears that this is the sort of concept Norris describes as a “non-strict natural kind” (while the elements of the periodic table would be examples of “strict” natural kinds).

This is a philosophically pragmatic approach to the interpretation of the concept of critical thinking. It recognizes the real, that is, mind-independent, existence of variation and of discontinuities in variation, and hence of “real” kinds, but it also recognizes that it is we ourselves who select the particular aspects of that variation which are to be emphasized, to be glorified as delimiting the particular “kinds” of things. In my view, this is the most suitable interpretation of the term “critical thinking.’’ First, it is consistent with a generally pragmatic outlook. (This reason will bear little weight for nonpragmatists.) Second, it is consistent with our actual practices of classification in other realms, as described above. Third, it is anotion that allows us egress from “the bottle” -we can simply abandon the endless search for the ”true” answer, the true conception of critical thinking, and turn instead to the business of trying to devise a conception that will aid in solving the serious educational and social problems we face.

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If, however, one adopts this account of the concept of critical thinking, an immediately pressing problem is clear. We must, to proceed in the determination as to whether any two cognitive practices “count” as critical thinking, identify the factor or factors of overriding significance that will serve as our criteria. Here we are brought up short, once again; we seem not to be possessed of consensus on such a factor. We would want, I believe, to avoid such a general criterion as “cognitive practices are counted as ’critical’ to the extent that they are praiseworthy,” this being rather too broad a conception to be helpful in designing a “critical thinking“ program. We would also want to avoid various narrow conceptions such as “cognitive practices are ’critical’ to the extent that they involve deductively valid or inductively strong arguments,” it being unlikely that any reasonably wide consensus could be found to accept this criterion. We could, of course, adopt a single general criterion for inclusion - for instance, a philosophically pragmatic requirement that a “critical” cognitive practice be a practice that furthers one‘s efforts to carry out successfully one‘s various projects. This would give us still a rather broad set, inclusive of a wide variety of practices; yet clarity would be served by recognizing the varieties of such practices. Or, alternatively, one could elect to restrict further the “projects” to epistemic projects, namely projects whose aim is to identify true statements. Given a pragmatic view of how such an epistemic project is best pursued, one still has a broadly inclusive concept - “critical thinking” practices would include attitudes that tend to widen the community of inquirers, that tend to facilitate discourse among persons, that lead to self-critical, reflective practices, as well as those that lead one to conform to strictures of inductive and deductive logic.

There is strong evidence in this collection of essays that critical thinking does not refer to a strict natural kind. The diversity in conceptions of critical thinking suggests either that there is not a particular “thing” out there that we are all seeking to describe, or, if there is, that we are remarkably unclear as to its character. The former conclusion, tentative though it must remain, seems preferable in that it focuses future attention on potentially answerable questions, such as, What various sorts of patterns or habits of thinking do we find worthy of being taught to the young? Of these, which do we find feasible to teach in a school setting? Of these, which are best taught directly, which indirectly? Which should be taught in context, which are successfully taught separately? There is, obviously, no simple answer to these questions; but we do not approach any nearer to an answer when we set out to determine what critical thinking “really” is.

The essays collected in The Generaliza bility of Critical Thinking clearly set out the three sorts of puzzles - conceptual, psychological, and pedagogical - that need to be resolved if progress in the teaching of critical thinking is to be made. The most frustrating is the conceptual, for there seems little prospect of achieving consensus on what critical thinking “really” means. Lacking this, we are reduced to, or perhaps inspired to, begin asking the more fruitful questions concerning which of the many possible conceptions wouldbe the most helpful given the problem-situations we face as a society. Here pedagogical and psychological research becomes pertinent. Rather than proceed by tackling the recondite conceptual question directly, we might do

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well to allow these seemingly secondary considerations to drive our decisions on the “meaning,” and hence the generality and generalizability, of critical thinking. That is, instead of asking such questions as, “Is critical thinking generalizable? Is critical thinking directly teachable? Is critical thinking an educational ideal?” we might ask instead, ”What valuable, directly teachable, and widely applicable sorts of lessons are there for young thinkers to learn?”

This volume provides a noteworthy and thought-provoking array of reflections on the nature, and meaning, of critical thinking, on our prospects for effectively teaching it, and, having done so, on evaluating the results. But the answer? Is critical thinking generalizable? Well, as is fitting, the proof (or disproof) of that has been left as an exercise for the reader.

To aid the reader in that endeavor, there is now available a very helpful work by Jeris Cassel and Robert Congleton, which collects in one volume a total of 930 citations of, and remarks on, various articles and books on critical thinking from 1980 through 1991.5

Cassel and Congleton’s review of the literature ranges widely, from the philo- sophical (articles on the conceptual issues of the meaning of critical thinking), to the psychological (research on problem solving strategies), to the pedagogical (advice on instructional methods, evaluations of commercial programs, and thoughts on how to integrate critical thinking into one’s curriculum). The chapter on “Testing and Evaluation,” for example, includes fifty-two works on evaluation, both of one’s students and of one’s program. Included, too, are articles on the history of the critical thinking movement, and on the growing trend in professional education toward including instruction in critical thinking. The articles reviewed are very clearly cross-referenced, so that published “Replies” to previous works can be easily located, and ongoing exchanges easily followed.

There are several aspects of the work that are likely to present problems for the user, however. First, the categorization of the cited articles and books seems rather idiosyncratic. For example, only eleven works are to be found in the opening collection of “General” works. Of these eleven, only three pieces are characterized as “literature reviews”; two of these reviews are by the same two authors, Anthony Blair and Ralph H. Johnson, and cover only the field of informal logic. Indeed, four of the eleven works cited in this short chapter are by Blair and Johnson, and are restricted to consideration of issues in informal logic. McPeck‘s two major books, Critical Thinking and Education and Teaching Critical Thinking: Dialogue and Dialectic, are cited here, alongside a three-page “reflective” piece by Richard Paul on the history of the critical thinking movement. Yet Paul’s 575 page work, Critical Thinking: What Every Person Needs to Survive in a Rapidly Changing World, a “collection of 39 theoretical and practical papers” which one might think would count as a nice general introduction to the subject, including as it does “an overview

5. Jeris F. Cassel and Robert J. Congleton, Critical Thinking: An Annotated Bibliography [Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1993), 137. This book will be referred to as CT with page numbers in the text for all subsequent references.

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and history of critical thinking [and] a glossary of critical thinking terms and concepts,” languishes in the midst of Chapter 4, “Theory,” where it is unlikely to be discovered by the casual reader looking for a “general” introduction (CT, pp. 137- 138). So, too, for Informal Reasoning and Education, a 498 page anthology of papers on informal reasoning. Nor is Siegel’s major work, Educating Reason, cited here; one must look for it, too, under “Theory.” A more propitious arrangement would have been to group in the opening chapter: bone fide literature reviews; major anthologies that collect in one volume important works by diverse authors; and major “land- mark” individual works that set out particular positions and critique others’ views. As the collection is actually arranged, the reader must know in advance the names of the major authors whose work it might be profitable to pursue, or must simply launch in and read the entire bibliography, a rather daunting prospect, especially for the beginner.

Under “Definitions and Concepts,” Chapter 2, Cassel and Congleton cite 68 works, and 182 works under “Theory,” Chapter 4. But, it is difficult to see from a survey of the articles cited just what sort of distinction is being recognized between the two ”sorts” of articles. The division seems highly idiosyncratic; one finds various oddities of arrangement, such as the separation of Neale Mucklow’s article “A Case for Teaching Students to Think Critically in the Disciplines,” found in “Definitions and Concepts” (CT, p. 22), from the response to that article, Roderic Owen’s ”What Does ‘Teaching Students to Think Critically’ Actually Mean!” which is relegated to “Theory.” Yet both articles treat of definitions, and both offer arguments concerning the most appropriate way to teach critical thinking.

Some works seem misplaced: For example, a three-page article by Linda Aucoin and Jo Ann Cangemi on the implementation of critical thinking skills, published in the Louisiana Social Studies Journal, is to be found under “Theory,” rather than under “Instructional Methods” or “Teaching in the Subject Areas,” although its contribution to “theory” is nothing more than a brief summarization of work by others. Beth-Marom et al.’s “Enhancing Children’s Thinking Skills: An Instructional Model for Decision-Making Under Uncertainty,“ published in Instructional Sci- ence, is also placed rather oddly under ”Theory.” And a “how-to” account, Roger Peters’s chapter on “Critical Thinking” in Practical Intelligence: Working Smarter in Business and Everyday Life appears in “Definitions and Concepts.”

More problematic, the indexing of the works cited leaves something to be desired. It was rather dismaying to note how often even articles whose ”key words” fairly leap out at one could not be accessed by searching for those key words in the index. Assessing Higher Order Thinking Skil1s:A Consumer’s Guide (CT , p. 183), for example, is not listed under Higher Order Thinking Skills; neither is “Higher Order Thinking Skills in the High School Curriculum” (CT , p. 131). Robert Young’s article, “Moral Development, Ego Autonomy, and Questions of Practicality in the Critical Theory of Schooling,’’ can be found by looking under Dewey, Jiirgen Habermas, Miller (theorists whose views Young examines), and is also listed under Argumen- tation and Learning; but does not appear under Moral Development, nor under Ethics, nor under Ego, nor Autonomy, nor Critical Theory. In fact, there is only one

MCCARTHY What is “Critical Thinking”? 239

article listed under Critical Theory: “Building a Context for Critical Literacy: Student Writers as Critical Theorists,” published in Writing Instructor [ CT, p. 295). Giroux’s Theory and Resistance in Education: A Pedagogy for the Opposition, which, Cassel and Congleton themselves write, specifically draws on “the critical theory of the Frankfurt School,” occurs in the collection (CT, p. 108), but is not to be found in the index under Critical Theory. Some fairly obvious headings are missing entirely from the index. Neither “Democracy,” nor “Citizenship,” nor “Social,” nor ”Political” occur as headings in the index, although one would naturally look for such headings if one were interested in such articles as “Coming to Terms with Citizenship Education,” or “Education for Citizenship: The Role of Progressive Education and Interdisciplinary Studies,” or “The History of Inquiry and Social Reproduction: Educating for Critical Thought,” or even “Critical Thinking: Educat- ing for Responsible Citizenship in a Democracy”(CT, pp. 130, 131, 127, and 108).

Under “Paired Problem-Solving,” again, there is only one listing, Teaching Thinking Skills: Science, which is a 48 page review of “ways active, critical thinking activities can be brought into science classrooms”; “paired problem solving” turns out to be but one of the recommended methods. Not found under this heading are Jack Lochhead and Arthur Whimbey’s “Teaching Analytic Reasoning Skills through Pair Problem Solving,” a description of the approach; a second Lochhead and Whimbey article, “Teaching Analytical Reasoning through Thinking Aloud Pair Problem Solving,” which describes and illustrates the approach, discussing its applications and providing sample problems; and a critical article by John D. Bransford et al., “Improving Thinking and Learning Skills: An Analysis of Three Approaches,” one of which is Whimbey and Lochhead’s Pair Problem Solving.

Now one might think, to give the indexers the benefit of the doubt, that “Think Aloud” Pair Problem Solving is different from ordinary Pair Problem Solving, and hence would deserve a separate listing. Turning to the index with this thought in mind, one discovers that, indeed, there is a separate listing, ”Think Aloud Pair Share,” but, sadly, Lochhead and Whimbey‘s major piece on the subject is not to be found listed here, either. What is listed is a single article, a 6 page piece, ”Cueing Thinking in the Classroom: The Promise of Theory-Embedded Tools,” a brief description of six instructional tools.

Still, despite the not-uncommon frustration of one’s indexical expectations, and the consequent need for creative searching, cross-checking and out-and-out brows- ing, this collection provides a significant resource. There is a great wealth of material collected in these pages, ranging from the philosophical to the empirical to the applied, and the volume will be a useful tool, particularly for those new to the literature who are interested enough and patient enough to browse the text thor- oughly, before heading off to the library or bookstore.