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 P R E F A C E
This book is intended to be of assistance to anyone who
is interested in facilitating learning.
We hope that this text is helpful to people who are
both interested in learning what has become known as
“mainstream” instructional design, as well as alterna-
tives, innovations, and enrichments. In addition to a
number of truly valuable contributions from recent
work, we find that not all that is characterized as “new”
in our field is in fact so new, and hope to provide a thor-
ough-enough background to allow the reader to decide.
This text is predicated upon the belief that designers
need both skill in using procedures from accepted prac-
tice as well as the ability to engage in problem solving
from the standpoint of underlying concepts and princi-
ples. Thus, although we offer extensive procedural as-
sistance, we emphasize the foundations and first
principles upon which most of the models and proce-
dures in our field are built. The text provides a founda-
tion upon which users can adapt the design process to
fit their unique contexts.
Despite the youth of the instructional design spe-
cialty, it has developed a rich mainstream. In recent
years, theory and practice involved in designing instruc-
tion have been enriched by ideas and approaches from
many perspectives. However, too many people from
both within the specialty and outside it have begun to
speak of the design of instruction as if it were uninflu-
enced by new ideas, or that it is an atheoretic, proce-
dure-bound practice with little or no research, or that it
gets new ideas in the facilitation of learning only from
outside the specialty. Our experience with instructional
design is that it is a rapidly changing, theory-rich, chal-
lenging and rewarding field of research and practice.
Organization of the Text
The text is organized into five main sections.
The first section, Introduction, provides an introduc-
tion to instructional design itself and a discussion of
philosophical and theoretical foundations.
The second section, Analysis and Assessment, includes
chapters on analysis of context (including needs assess-
ment), learners, and learning tasks. The section also
contains the chapter on assessment of learning.
The third section, Instructional Strategies, is concerned
primarily with micro-level strategies to facilitate learn-
ing. A separate chapter is provided for strategies leading
to the learning of eight distinct categories of learning:
declarative knowledge, concepts, principles, proce-
dures, domain-specific problem solving, cognitive
strategies, attitude change and motivation, and psy-
chomotor skills. The approach to design of instructional
strategies is tied closely to cognitive learning theory and
related research, in which the cognitive requirements
of particular learning tasks, along with context and
learner characteristics, are used to inform instructional
strategy decisions. The final chapter in this section is de-
voted to macro-level strategies and integration of learn-
ing in larger units of study.
The fourth section, Implementation, Management, and
Evaluation, is comprised of a chapter on implementation
of instruction, a chapter on management of instruction,
and a chapter on formative and summative evaluation
of instruction.
The fifth section, Conclusion, has one chapter which
supplies concluding comments and recommendations
such as “fast track” design approaches and the principle
of appropriate technology. The chapter also includes an
effort at pulling the material of the whole book together
into a summary. The chapter concludes with observa-
tions on future directions of interest to the field.
Changes in the 3rd Edition
Two chapters, Chapter 17, Implementation, and
Chapter 18, Management of Instruction, are new addi-
tions. We are pleased to be able to offer what we believe
is a helpful treatment of these two areas of critical im-
portance to most instructional designers. The new
chapter on implementation provides recommendations
that can substantially increase the likelihood that in-
structional design efforts will be successful. The chapter
contains practical implementation suggestions. These
suggestions draw heavily upon information about con-
vii
viii PREFACE
text, learners, and learning tasks, and we think readers
will find that this underscores and clarifies the rele-
vance of instructional analysis. The new chapter on
management emphasizes project management concepts
and tools of relevance to instructional designers and
also discusses instructional management, the overarch-
ing strategies that guide the scheduling of instructional
events, and the mechanisms for delivering these events.
Users of earlier editions may notice the absence of
two chapters from the Table of Contents: Production
and Delivery Strategies. These chapters were particu-
larly difficult to maintain currency, but rather than
eliminate them completely, they have been updated
and moved to our Learning Resources Web Site.
The Learning Resources Web Site, http:www.wiley
.com/college/smith, a helpful supplement in the past,
has increased in its role and importance. Beyond the ad-
dition of two chapters, the site also contains an updated
and revised Extended Example. The Extended Example
in the 1st and 2nd editions gave an example of applica-
tion of each of the major design activities applied to one
course. Continuing in the 3rd edition, the Extended
Example is provided in addition to those provided in
each chapter which draw from many subject areas and
task domains. The Extended Example gives the reader
not only an illustration of application in addition to
those which appear in chapters, but it also has the
unique function of providing the continuity of relating
to a single subject area and course. Most chapters in the
text have an example in the Extended Example. We se-
lected a course in Digital Photography as our vehicle,
and we hope you find it to be interesting and helpful as
an illustration of application of instructional design con-
cepts and techniques. Each chapter for which there is an
Extended Example contribution contains a pointer to
the example and recommendation to examine it.
The Learning Resources Web Site contains materials
that we hope are useful to learners and faculty alike.
The site contains:
• Feedback for all chapter exercises
• Example course syllabi and schedules for courses
which use the text in a variety of contexts
• Learning activities for classroom use
• Figures and illustrations, in the text, as a file that
instructor (or students) can use and modify
• Presentations in PowerPoint[TM] form related to
many of the chapters
• Job aids which may be either printed out or used
within your computer as forms to facilitate appli-
cation
• Example objectives for each type of learning, along
with a summary of events of instruction from each
of the strategies chapters (Chapters 8-16)
• Online Chapter W-1: Production of Media
• Online Chapter W-2: Delivery Strategies
• Extended Example: Design of one course through
each of the phases of the instructional design
process, using a course. in digital photography,
with illustration of:
° Context analysis
° Learner Analysis
° Learning Task Analysis
° Assessment
• Instructional Strategy Design for lessons
leading to:
° Declarative knowledge learning
° Concept learning
° Procedure learning
° Principle learning
° Problem-solving learning
° Cognitive strategy learning
° Attitude learning
° Psychomotor skill learning
° Macro-Level Design (Course Structure)
° Example Instructor-led Instruction Lesson Plan
° Formative and Summative Evaluation Plans
Features of the Third Edition
The text includes features found to be of most utility in
the first and second editions, expands the use of those
of most importance, and eliminates those which were
not of particular value.
1. Performance objectives begin each chapter. In
addition to providing a preview and expectation-
setting function, the objectives in an instructional
design text serve an additional function. Chapter
objectives provide examples of ways of expressing
intention for learning in addition to other exam-
ples in the text. Many chapter objectives reflect
higher order learnings such as principles, proce-
dures, and problem solving.
2. Examples from a variety of settings, including
business and industry as well as K–12 education.
Examples of the application of tools and principles
place design in a context that helps learners better
understand relevance and application than by
reading explanations alone. We have made an ef-
fort to make the text rich with examples of appli-
cation in a variety of settings and content
domains.
3. The Extended Example for the design of compo-
nents in an instructional photography course is pro-
vided in the book’s Learning Resources Web Site.

The Extended Example, described earlier, exempli-
fies the major principles presented in each chapter.
It has been our experience that while learners ben-
efit from the diversity of short examples within
each chapter, they also greatly benefit from seeing
the instructional design for one content unfold
across the entire instructional design process.
4. Exercises are embedded within the chapters to
assist learners in active interaction with the mate-
rial as well as provide the opportunity for students
to monitor their learning as they progress through
the chapter. Exercises often include practice of
procedures and application of principles being dis-
cussed. In our own teaching uses of this book as a
text, we base the exams that we give our students
on the item specifications from which these exer-
cises were derived. (Model answers to these
Exercises are provided in the Learning Resources
Web Site described earlier.)
5. Graphic summaries are included at the end of
each chapter. Although some are more “graphic”
than others, each can assist in summarizing
through a table or graphically enhanced represen-
tation.
6. Reading and reference information is exten-
sive. In addition to thorough citation of sources
used throughout the text, a few useful references
not cited are included. The references sections are
wide-ranging in scope, including research reports,
literature reviews, technical reports, and books in
both theoretical and application domains.
7. Access structures such as author and subject in-
dexes, extensive illustrations, careful use of ex-
plicit typographic structures such as heading use,
bolding, and italics, and extensive cross-referenc-
ing are employed to help users navigate and use
this book as not only a text but a reference for
practitioners.
Acknowledgements
We wish to thank our colleagues. We are especially in-
debted to colleagues in the Instructional Technology
and Psychology program at the University of
Oklahoma, the Professors of Instructional Design
Technology group (PIDT), the Association for
Educational Communications and Technology (AECT),
the American Educational Research Association
(AERA), and the International Visual Literacy
Association (IVLA). In particular we would thank
Barbara Greene, Ray Miller, and Terri DeBacker, who
have listened to our ideas, provided books for our edu-
cation, and critiqued portions of this text. Also to Amy
PREFACE ix
Bradshaw, Barry Brown, Beth Butts, John Cochenour,
L.K. & Steve Curda, Gayle Davidson-Shriver, Scott
DeClue, Phil Doughty, Jim Ellsworth, Marsha
Ferguson, Paul Kleine, Sandy Quesada, Rita Richey,
Willi Savenye, Rick Schwier, Annette Sherry, Jennifer
Summerville, and Patty White for their help and friend-
ship. And special acknowledgement and thanks to
Patricia Hardre, who wrote the new chapter on man-
agement (Chapter 18), a significant contribution to this
edition.
We are also indebted to our esteemed former profes-
sors and colleagues for their ground-breaking scholar-
ship, especially L. J. Briggs, W. Dick, R. M. Gagné,
J. Keller, and W. Wager. After writing this text, we more
fully realize that we “stand on the shoulders” of our
predecessors!
We are grateful for the contributions which our stu-
dents have made to our learning. We appreciate the
thoughtful questions of our students from all of the in-
stitutions at which we have taught. We are also in-
debted to the students from many classes for their
formative feedback on the various versions of the text
over the years. We must specifically mention Tom
Bergman and Mary Beth Smith, who provided us with
detailed written feedback over an entire semester. One
student, not ours, but a student in Syracuse University’s
Instructional Design, Development and Evaluation pro-
gram, contributed to revisions of the example problem-
solving lesson to bring it into the 21st century with
sample instruction on beginning Java programming.
Thank you, Patty (so many Patricias—this one is
Patricia T. Ragan).
We gratefully acknowledge the insightful and schol-
arly comments of our reviewers: T. C. Bassoppo-Moyo,
Illinois State University; Don E. Descy, Minnesota State
University; Patricia L. Hardre, University of Oklahoma;
Badrul Khan, George Washington University; Tiffany A.
Koszalka, Syracuse University; Victor Nolet, Western
Washington University; Pam Northup, University of
West Florida; Francine Shuchat Shaw, New York
University; and Michael E. Wiggins, Embry-Riddle
Aeronautical University
Finally, we acknowledge the guidance and careful at-
tention to our manuscript provided by our editors and
production team at Wiley: Brad Hanson, Alec
Borenstein, Mary Savel, and Patty Donovan of Pine
Tree Composition.
Patricia L. Smith
Tillman J. Ragan
Professors Emeriti
The University of Oklahoma
Norman, Oklahoma
April, 2004
 B R I E F C O N T E N T S

I INTRODUCTION 1 11 STRATEGIES FOR INSTRUCTION LEADING

TO PRINCIPLE LEARNING 204
1 INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL 12 STRATEGIES FOR PROBLEM-SOLVING
DESIGN 3 INSTRUCTION 217
2 FOUNDATIONS OF INSTRUCTIONAL 13 STRATEGIES FOR COGNITIVE STRATEGY
DESIGN 17 INSTRUCTION 243
14 STRATEGIES FOR ATTITUDE
LEARNING 259
I I A N A LYS I S A N D A S S E S S M E N T 39
15 STRATEGIES FOR PSYCHOMOTOR SKILL
3 INSTRUCTIONAL ANALYSIS: LEARNING 272
ANALYZING THE LEARNING CONTEXT 41 16 MACRO STRATEGIES: INTEGRATION
4 INSTRUCTIONAL ANALYSIS: OF TYPES OF LEARNING 285
ANALYZING THE LEARNER 57
5 INSTRUCTIONAL ANALYSIS: I V I M P L E M E N TAT I O N , M A N AG E M E N T,
ANALYZING THE LEARNING TASK 75 A N D E VA L U AT I O N 3 0 1
6 ASSESSING LEARNING
FROM INSTRUCTION 103 17 IMPLEMENTATION 303
18 MANAGEMENT OF INSTRUCTION 312
19 FORMATIVE AND SUMMATIVE
I I I I N ST R U C T I O N A L ST R AT E G I E S 125 EVALUATION 326

7 A FRAMEWORK FOR INSTRUCTIONAL

STRATEGY DESIGN 127 IV CONCLUSION 353
8 STRATEGIES FOR DECLARATIVE 20 CONCLUSIONS AND FUTURE
KNOWLEDGE INSTRUCTION 151 DIRECTIONS 355
9 STRATEGIES FOR INSTRUCTION LEADING
TO CONCEPT LEARNING 171 Author Index 373
10 STRATEGIES FOR INSTRUCTION LEADING
TO LEARNING PROCEDURES 188 Subject Index 377

xi
 C O N T E N T S

I INTRODUCTION 1 C H A P T E R 5
C H A P T E R 1
INSTRUCTIONAL ANALYSIS: ANALYZING
INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL THE LEARNING TASK 75
DESIGN 3 Overview of Analysis of the Learning Task 76
Introduction 4 Writing Learning Goals 77
What Does Instructional Design Mean? 4 Determining Types of Learning 78
What is Design? 6 Conducting an Information-Processing Analysis 83

The Instructional Design Process 8 Writing Learning Objectives 94

C H A P T E R 6
C H A P T E R 2

FOUNDATIONS OF INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN 17

ASSESSING LEARNING FROM INSTRUCTION 103

An Overview of Assessment of Learning from

Why Discuss Philosophy and Theory in an Instructional Instruction 104
Design Text? 18
Purposes of Evaluation 104
The Philosophical Perspectives of Instructional Design 18
Purposes and Models of Assessment of Learners’
What Is Theory? 23 Achievement 105
Major Theory Bases Contributing to Instructional Design 23 Types of Assessments 107
Characteristics of Good Assessment Instruments 108
Formats of Assessment 112
II A N A LYS I S A N D A S S E S S M E N T 39
Item Specifications 116
C H A P T E R 3 Assessment Instrument Blueprints 121
INSTRUCTIONAL ANALYSIS: ANALYZING
THE LEARNING CONTEXT 41 III I N ST R U C T I O N A L ST R AT E G I E S 125
Overview of Analysis 42 C H A P T E R 7
Determining Instructional Needs 43
Describing the Learning Environment 49 A FRAMEWORK FOR INSTRUCTIONAL
Working with an Expert 52 STRATEGY DESIGN 127
An Overview of Instructional Strategy Concerns
in Instructional Design 128
C H A P T E R 4 Exercise A 128
Lesson-Level Organizational Strategies 129
INSTRUCTIONAL ANALYSIS: ANALYZING Lessons and Learning Environments 131
THE LEARNERS 57 Exercise B 140
An Overview of Learner Analysis 58 Alternatives in Locus of Information Processing 141
Similarities and Differences Between Learners 59 Supplantive and Generative Strategies of Instruction 142
Changing Similarities 65 Types of Learning and Instructional Strategies 143
Significance of Types of Learner Characteristics 69 Exercise C 146

xiii
xiv CONTENTS

C H A P T E R 8 C H A P T E R 1 2

STRATEGIES FOR DECLARATIVE KNOWLEDGE STRATEGIES FOR PROBLEM-SOLVING

INSTRUCTION 151 INSTRUCTION 217
Introduction 152 A Review of Problem-Solving Learning 218
A Review of Declarative Knowledge Learning 152 Cognitive Requirements of Problem-Solving Learning 219
Cognitive Processes of Learning Declarative Knowledge 153 Problem-Solving Task-Analysis 222
Conditions Supporting Declarative Knowledge Learning The Differences Between Expert and Novice Problem
and Example Lessons 156 Solvers 222
Assessment of Declarative Knowledge 167 Instructional Events for a Problem-Solving Lesson 223
Exercises 167 Assessment of Problem Solving Learning 227
Macrostrategies for Problem-Solving Instruction 228
Example Problem Solving Lesson 234
C H A P T E R 9 Exercise 237
STRATEGIES FOR INSTRUCTION LEADING
TO CONCEPT LEARNING 171 C H A P T E R 1 3
A Review of Concept Learning 172 STRATEGIES FOR COGNITIVE STRATEGY
Cognitive Processes and Structures in Concept Learning 173
INSTRUCTION 243
Essential Conditions of Learning Concepts 175
Assessment of Concept Learning 180 A Review of Cognitive Strategy Learning 244
Exercises 181 Cognitive Requirements of Cognitive Strategy Learning 246
Examples Concept Lesson 182 General Approaches to Teaching Cognitive Strategies 247
Events of Instruction for Teaching Cognitive Strategies 248
Impediments to Strategy Use 253
C H A P T E R 1 0 Assessment of Cognitive Strategy Learning 254
Exercise 255
STRATEGIES FOR INSTRUCTION LEADING
TO LEARNING PROCEDURES 188 C H A P T E R 1 4
A Review of Learning to Apply a Procedure 189
Cognitive Processes Involved in the Learning STRATEGIES FOR ATTITUDE LEARNING 259
of Procedures 190 Introduction 260
Conditions Supporting the Learning of Procedures 190
Instruction for Attitude Objectives 260
Asessment of Procedure Learning 197 Exercise A 260
Example Procedure Learning Lesson 198 A Review of Attitude Learning 262
Exercises 202 Exercise B 265
Example Attitude Lesson 265
Instructional Conditions for Attitude Objectives 265
C H A P T E R 1 1
Assessment of Attitude Learning 266
STRATEGIES FOR INSTRUCTION LEADING
TO PRINCIPLE LEARNING 204 C H A P T E R 1 5
A Review of Principle Learning 205
Exercises 206 STRATEGIES FOR PSYCHOMOTOR
Cognitive Processes of Learning Principles 206 SKILL LEARNING 272
Conditions Supporting Learning Principles 207 Introduction 273
Assessment of Principle Application 211 A Review of Psychomotor Learning 273
Example Principle Application Lesson 212 Exercise A 275
 CONTENTS xv

Critical Elements of Psychomotor Skills 275 Standards for Project Management 315
Exercise B 277 Project Integration Management 316
A General Procedure for Teaching Psychomotor Skills 279 Project Scope Management 316
Assessment of Psychomotor Skill Learning 281 Project Time Management 316
Project Cost Management 318
Project Human Resource Management 318
C H A P T E R 1 6 Risk, Change, and Crisis Management 319
Macro-Level and Micro-Level Management Issues 320
MACRO STRATEGIES: INTEGRATION Instructional Management 321
OF TYPES OF LEARNING 285 Integrated Learning Systems 321
Introduction 286 Course Management Systems 322
Curriculum Sequencing Structures 286 Exercises 323
Exercise A 290
Integrative Curriculum Tools and Concepts 290
Alternative Views of Curriculum Design 293 C H A P T E R 1 9
Technology’s Assistance to Integrated Curriculum
Designs 295 FORMATIVE AND SUMMATIVE
Prescriptions for Curriculum Design 296 EVALUATION 326
Exercise B 296 Evaluating Instructional Materials 327
Overview of Formative Evaluation 327
Phases of Formative Evaluation 328
IV I M P L E M E N TAT I O N , M A N A G E M E N T, Exercises 341
A N D E VA L U AT I O N 3 0 1 An Overview of Summative Evaluation 342
C H A P T E R 1 7 Alternative Approaches to Summative Evaluation 343
Procedures for Summative Evaluation 344
IMPLEMENTATION 303

Overview of Implementation 304 V CONCLUSION 353

What is Implementation? 304
What is the Role of Implementation in Instructional C H A P T E R 2 0
Design? 304
Importance of Considering Implementation 305 CONCLUSIONS AND FUTURE DIRECTIONS 355

Timing of Implementation 305 Overview 356

Stages of the Adoption Process 305 A Summary of the Major Principles Guiding Instructional
Principles for Encouraging Implementation 306 Design 356
An Approach to Facilitating Implementation: CBAM 307 “Appropriate” Instructional Design 356
Fidelity of Implementation 308 Resources 357
Adoption, Adaptation, and Integration 308 Criticality 358
Embodiment as Implementation 309 Accountability 359
Exercises 309 Expectations/Requirements of the Client Agency 359
Exercise A 363
What Instructional Designers Do 359
C H A P T E R 1 8 Future Directions for Instructional Design 364
New Assumptions 368
MANAGEMENT OF INSTRUCTION 312 Exercise B 368
Overview of Management of Instruction 313
Why Should a Designer Know Project Management 313 AUTHOR INDEX 373
Defining Project Management 313
Project Management in Instructional Design 314 SUBJECT INDEX 377
 S E C T I O N
I
INTRODUCTION
In this section, we introduce and provide foundation
for your study of instructional design.
I n Chapter 1, “Introduction to Instructional
Design,” the idea of instructional design is presented.
The concept of instruction is compared with related
concepts such as education, training, and teaching. We
also will look at the major activities of instructional de-
signers and who performs them in what settings. This
review of activities also provides a preview of the vari-
ety of settings to which this book is addressed: corpo-
rate, K–12, and other. Also discussed are advantages
and limitations of the instructional design approach.
I n Chapter 2, “Foundations of Instructional
Design,” a review of philosophical and theoretical
foundations is provided. The philosophical perspectives
of constructivism, empiricism, and pragmatism are ex-
plored, as well as the major assumptions held by au-
thors of this text. Theories that are also foundational to
instructional design are discussed, including the learn-
ing theories of behaviorism, cognitive learning theory,
and developmental theories. Finally, the use of instruc-
tional theories throughout the text will be overviewed,
along with a relatively simple example of an instruc-
tional theory, which is provided for orientation.
 INTRODUCTION TO
INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
C H A P T E R

C H A P T E R O B J E C T I V E S
At the conclusion of this chapter, you should be able to do the following:
• Explain what is meant by instructional design.
• Define instruction, distinguish it from related terms (such as education, training, and teaching), and when
given descriptions of educational activities, determine which of these are instruction.
• Identify and describe the three major activities of the instructional design process, and when given descrip-
tions and instructional design activities, identify which activity is being employed.
• Describe advantages of using instructional design: for school curriculum developers, for teachers, for train-
ing designers, and trainers.
• Discuss the types of contexts in which instructional designers work and how their activities may differ in
these different contexts.

3
4 CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
INTRODUCTION
Fourth-grade teacher Dora Brady is sitting at her desk
after school, looking at the scores that her class made
on the long-division quiz she gave today. She is re-
viewing the students’ performance in her mind and re-
calling how she taught the students. She is working on
new ways to teach the kids next week and next year.
She is drawing upon her knowledge of something
called instructional design in her thinking.
Dick Montiville is in conference with three cowork-
ers at Amalgamated Airlines. Mr. Montiville and his
team are figuring out the exact nature of the learning
that aircrew members need in order to improve the
safety of the company’s flights. The areas of required
learning have already been established, and now the
team is breaking those learning tasks down into the
components and prerequisites. Montiville and his team
are using some techniques from instructional design to
guide their work.
Faye Hartman and William Burke are in charge of
evaluating a new textbook series in organic chemistry
being developed by MacBurdick Publishers. The series
is intended to capture the market in its subject area,
and principles of instructional design were used in
many phases of the project, including the evaluation
work of Hartman and Burke.
WHAT DOES INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN MEAN?
The term instructional design refers to the systematic
and reflective process of translating principles of learn-
ing and instruction into plans for instructional materi-
als, activities, information resources, and evaluation.
An instructional designer is somewhat like an engineer.
Both plan their work based upon principles that have
been successful in the past—the engineer on the laws of
physics and the designer on basic principles of instruc-
tion and learning. Both try to design solutions that are
not only functional but also attractive or appealing to
the end-user. Both the engineer and instructional de-
signer have established problem-solving procedures
that they use to guide them in making decisions about
their designs.
Through this systematic process, both the engineer
and the instructional designer plan what the solution—
often a finished product—will be like. Both write speci-
fications (plans) for the solutions, but they do not nec-
essarily translate their specifications into an actual
product. They often hand their plans to someone who
specializes in production (in the case of an engineer, a
building contractor; in the case of the instructional de-
signer, a software development or media production
specialist). This holds true for many instructional de-
signers. However, some designers, such as those with
production skills (computer programming, video pro-
duction, or development of print materials), may
themselves translate their specifications into the final
instructional material. Classroom teachers often imple-
ment their own plans. In any event, the designer typi-
cally begins the production or implementation once
the specifications are completed.
Perfection is neither a goal nor an option in design. It
is attractive and easy to assume that with sufficient so-
phistication, designers will develop flawless designs that
have no drawbacks. Petroski (2003) has made it clear
that all design involves trade-offs, even the most elegant
and widely admired designs. Instructional designers, no
less than civil engineers or industrial designers, seek to
analyze, plan, implement, and evaluate in such a way
that their work will do the most good with the least
harm and to learn from mistakes to improve.
Careful, systematic planning is important no matter
what media of instruction are used in implementation.
When the medium of instruction is something other
than a teacher, and when it is possible that a teacher
may not be available or prepared to compensate for
poorly planned instructional materials, careful instruc-
tional design is critical. When the instructional medium
is not immediately adaptable (as with printed materials,
video materials, and computer-based instruction), hav-
ing a design that is based upon principles of instruction
is very important. Any oversights that were made in the
design of these instructional materials cannot be easily
remedied because the instruction is being delivered via
instructional media. When the primary medium of in-
struction is a teacher/trainer or when a teacher/trainer
has a major role as coordinator of instruction, then
high-quality instructional design is also highly benefi-
cial. The systematic planning needed prior to implemen-
tation and the reflection that should occur afterward are
well-informed, guided, and organized by instructional
design principles and processes. Teachers’/trainers’ care-
ful planning allows them to allocate their mental
resources during instruction to adaptations that are nec-
essary because of the differing prior experiences of the
learners; motivation, behavior, or administrative prob-
lems; or serendipitous events that require instructional
planning on the spot.
To understand the term instructional design more
clearly, we will review the meanings of the words in-
struction and design.
What Is Instruction?
Instruction is the intentional facilitation of learning to-
ward identified learning goals. Driscoll (2000) defines
instruction from a similar perspective: “the deliberate

arrangement of learning conditions to promote the at-
tainment of some intended goal” (p. 345). In both defi-
nitions, instruction is the intentional arrangement of
experiences, leading to learners acquiring particular ca-
pabilities. These capabilities can vary qualitatively in
form, from simple recall of knowledge to cognitive
strategies that allow a learner to find new problems
within a field of study. For example, a teacher or
trainer may wish to help learners use a particular kind
of computer software to solve a certain set of problems.
The instructional designer will develop materials and
activities that are intended to prepare the learners to
use the software effectively. Every experience that is
developed is focused toward one or more goals for
learning. In addition to effective instruction, designers
also wish to create instruction that is efficient (requir-
ing the least time and cost necessary) and appealing.
Terms such as education, training, and teaching are
often used interchangeably with instruction. However,
in this text we will make some distinctions among
these terms. Certainly, these distinctions may not be
made in the same way among all individuals in the
field of education, or even in the field of instructional
design. However, we have found these definitions
helpful in laying the framework for this text. Figure 1.1
illustrates the relationships among these terms.
We will use the term education very broadly to de-
scribe all experiences in which people learn. Many of
these experiences are unplanned, incidental, and infor-
mal. For example, many people learn to drive a car in
city traffic through a trial-and-error process involving
many harried morning trips. The driver learns, so these
experiences can be considered part of her general edu-
cation; however, no one has specifically arranged this
learning experience so that she can learn well, quickly,
and with a minimum of danger and frustration. It
would be possible to create a series of particular experi-
ences (perhaps using a simulator or videotapes and city
maps) that would be specifically focused on preparing
one to navigate city traffic easily. We would call the de-
Education
Instruction
Training
Teaching
Figure 1.1 Relationships Among Terms Associated with
Instruction
WHAT DOES INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN MEAN? 5
livery of these focused educational experiences in-
struction.
So, all instruction is part of education because all in-
struction consists of experiences leading to learning.
But not all education is instruction because many ex-
periences that lead to learning are not specifically de-
veloped and implemented to ensure effective, efficient,
and appealing experiences leading toward particular
learning goals. A common misapprehension of instruc-
tion relates instruction to particular strategies—such as
expository or didactic ones—and avoids the term when
referring to learning environments that employ a more
student-centered approach. The tools and principles of
instructional design that you will see described in this
book are applicable to all forms of experience, as long
as the experience in question has facilitation of particu-
lar goals for learning as its purpose. However, learning
environments that are truly “goal free”—if such exist—
would not be examples of instruction.
We generally use the term training to refer to those
instructional experiences that are focused upon indi-
viduals acquiring very specific skills that they will nor-
mally apply almost immediately. For example, many
instructional experiences in vocational education
classes can be considered training. The students learn
skills, specifically focused toward job competencies,
that they will use almost immediately. Much instruc-
tion in business, military, and government settings can
be termed training because the experiences are directed
toward preparing learners with specific on-the-job
skills. In addition, the instruction in certain special ed-
ucation classes is “training” because the learning expe-
riences have been developed to provide students with
life skills, such as counting change, which we antici-
pate they will use almost immediately.
Not all instruction can be considered training, how-
ever. For instance, in military education programs,
learners may be provided with some general instruc-
tion in math and reading. These learning experiences
can be termed instruction because the lessons were de-
veloped with some specific goals in mind, such as a cer-
tain level of proficiency in reading and mathematics.
However, these goals are often not directed toward a
specific job task, nor is there anticipation of immediate
impact upon a specific job task. The influence on job
performance is anticipated to be more diffuse through-
out job responsibilities and outside job tasks. Therefore,
in our terminology, these learning experiences would
not be termed training. Similar to the misapprehension
of the meaning of instruction, training is sometimes
mistakenly identified with a particular style or strategy
of teaching. Training is conducted using all of the vari-
eties of method and approach seen in any other form
of education: Training is distinguished from other
forms by immediacy of application.
6 CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
Of all the terms just discussed, teaching and instruc-
tion may be most often used interchangeably. In this
text, we will use the term teaching to refer to those
learning experiences that are facilitated by a human
being—not a DVD, textbook, or educational Web site,
but a live teacher. Instruction, on the other hand, in-
cludes all learning experiences in which facilitation and
support for learning are conveyed by teaching and
other forms of mediation. As you will discover later,
one of the primary tenets of instructional design is that
a live teacher is not essential to all instruction.
As Figure 1.1 shows, not all teaching is considered
to be instruction. There are occasions in an educational
environment in which a teacher does not focus learn-
ing experiences toward any particular learning goal.
On these occasions, teachers may provide many learn-
ing activities, and during these activities learning goals
may emerge, often from the learners themselves as
they encounter the activities. For example, some
preschool education falls within this category, such as
instances in which learners are provided with a variety
of manipulative materials that they can use to pursue
many problems. These pursuits might lead to various
learning outcomes, many of which have not been
specifically anticipated by the teacher.
In summary, this text focuses on the facilitation of
learning: instruction. Here, we will consider instruction
to be a subset of education. The term training will be
considered a subset of instruction. In some cases, teach-
ing will be considered instruction, and in others it will
fit the more general category of education but will not
have the focus that characterizes instruction. We will
concentrate on the design and development of activi-
ties that are directed toward identified learning goals.
WHAT IS DESIGN?
Design is an activity or process that people engage in
that improves the quality of their subsequent creations.
Design is related to planning, the difference being that
once the expertise and care with which planning is
conducted reaches a certain point, we begin to refer to
the activity as “design.” When projects become com-
plex, at some point the term “planning” no longer fits
and “design” becomes a better descriptor. Thus, before
an earth orbit laboratory is built, it must be designed.
To say that the space station will be planned would not
make sense if we were referring to the development of
actual specifications for its construction and operation.
Likewise, a teacher may engage in planning for a class
or semester, but if the term “design” is well-applied to
the activity, a high level of care and sophistication is
implied. The term design comes with an implication
that a good amount of specialized knowledge and skill
is being brought to bear, regardless of the size of the
project. Schön (1987, 1991), a student of effective pro-
fessional practice, described design as a process of “re-
flective conversation with the materials of a given situ-
ation.”
Many fields use the term design as part of their title;
examples include interior design, architectural design,
and industrial design. The term design implies a system-
atic or intensive planning and ideation process prior to
the development of something or the execution of
some plan in order to solve a problem. Fundamentally,
design is a type of problem solving and has much in
common with problem solving in other professions. In
this text, we classify the capability that designers apply
as “domain-specific problem solving,” which involves
the solution of “ill-structured” or “ill-defined” prob-
lems. Such problems cannot be solved by following an
algorithm, nor will all designers reach the same solu-
tion to a particular learning problem. (Readers might
wish to refer to Chapter 12, Strategies for Problem-
solving Lessons, to clarify what is meant by “domain-
specific problem solving.”)
Design is distinguished from other forms of instruc-
tional planning by the level of precision, care, and ex-
pertise that is employed in the planning, development,
and evaluation process. Designers employ a high level
of precision, care, and expertise in the systematic de-
velopment of instruction because they perceive that
poor planning can result in serious consequences, such
as misuse of time and other resources and even in loss
of life. Specifically, instructional designers fear that
poor instructional design can result in ineffective en-
counters, inefficient* activities, and unmotivated learn-
ers—a consequence that can have serious long-term ef-
fects. Indeed, experienced instructional designers
intensify the degree of precision, care, and expertise
expended on a design project relative to the impact of
the potential consequences of ineffective, inefficient, or
unmotivated learning that can result from less care-
fully designed instruction. (For more detail on the sub-
ject of adjusting design intensity to the learning situa-
tion, refer to Chapter 20, Conclusions and Future
Directions.)
Design involves the consideration of many factors
that may affect or be affected by the implementation of
an instructional plan. For example, interior designers
*Efficiency is a controversial concept. Many educators and
learning scientists are appropriately suspicious of concerns
with instructional efficiency. Although efficiency can be wor-
shiped at the expense of meaningful learning, we use the term
to reflect the avoidance of unnecessary and unproductive
waste, and when meaningful learning is implicit in learning
goals, as it often is, the criterion of effectiveness takes it quite
seriously.

must consider the purpose and level of use of a facility,
the anticipated traffic patterns, and the needs of the peo-
ple who will be using the facility. Interior designers must
consider the engineer’s plans, such as the location and
strength of walls. They must follow laws and regulations
with regard to accessibility and safety. If they do not
consider all these factors and how they interrelate, the
designers risk creating a work or living space that is un-
usable or even dangerous. Just as interior designers
have critical factors that they must consider to make
their solutions usable and effective, instructional design-
ers have a vast number of factors, which often interact,
that they must consider as they create instruction. The
rest of this text details factors that instructional designers
must consider in designing instruction.
Creativity also has a role in design. Novice designers
sometimes have the impression that doing design work
is a “cut-and-dried” activity. This is not the case. For ex-
ample, if one were to give several architects the same
conditions—site, materials, and purpose—the plans for
the structures that they would create would vary radi-
cally. Some would be highly imaginative and innova-
tive, while some might be more mundane and stan-
dard. All of the designs may “work” in the sense that,
when executed, the buildings would remain standing
and serve their purposes. However, some imaginative
and ingenious structures may inspire awe, while more
mundane structures may be totally forgettable.
Just as the design of the architect benefits from cre-
ativity and imagination, so do the designs of the in-
structional designer. A critical need exists for imagina-
tion and ingenuity in all instructional design activities.
For example, during context analysis designers may
have to exert considerable ingenuity in creating ways
to ascertain the true nature of the “problem.”
Sometimes this involves restructuring the problem to
redefine it into one that can be solved (Akin, 1994). In
addition, designers must make instruction inspiring
and memorable. Certainly, evaluation of instruction re-
quires inventiveness. Frequently, assessing the actual
goals of an instructional activity seems a practical im-
possibility. Some designers are ingenious in devising
ways of simulating targeted situations, so that learners
get to demonstrate activities and cognitive processing
that are very near the actual goal behavior.
How can instructional designers become more cre-
ative in their work? We have noticed some common
characteristics of particularly ingenious design students
and practitioners in the field. First, highly creative de-
signers are voracious consumers of examples of learn-
ing environments and instructional materials, both
those from the instructional design tradition and those
from other traditions. Second, although they have con-
ducted a thorough analysis of the component learning
requirements (objectives) of the design project, the
WHAT IS DESIGN? 7
best designers clearly maintain a sense of the major
goal and generalized perception of the content of the
materials: They can still see the forest, despite the trees.
Third, excellent designers use message design conven-
tions and techniques, such as metaphors, narratives, or
visual images to lend a sense of continuity, interest,
and wholeness to the instruction.
Another key aspect of instructional design is its ex-
tensive and demanding nature. Experienced designers
(not to mention novices) frequently express concern
about the time and effort that they expend applying
what is currently known about designing effective, effi-
cient, and appealing instruction. Clearly, there is
enough of a “technology” undergirding the design
process that a casual approach to either learning or ap-
plication of skills in instructional design will not do it
justice. However, those who are beginning their study
of instructional design should know that once the con-
cepts and principles of instructional design are learned,
they can be appropriately applied with a wide range of
effort, precision, and formality.
Even classroom teachers in public schools (who by
virtue of their teaching loads do not generally have
time to engage in instructional design in a full-blown
fashion) can significantly improve the effectiveness of
their teaching by informally applying instructional de-
sign principles (Wiggins, McTighe, & McTighe, 1998).
They may choose to apply these principles mentally
and document little, if any, of their thinking on paper.
Of course, in instructional design classes, learners are
asked to document their thought processes so that the
instructor can evaluate them and provide remediation
where necessary. And, in many contexts—particularly
those situations in which teams work together on a de-
sign project in which legal liability for the quality of the
instruction is an issue—a hard-copy documentation of
the design process may be essential.
Recent developments in the field are specifically di-
rected at reducing the time and effort required by the
instructional design process. We review a number of
these “fast-track” approaches to instructional design in
the final chapter of this text.
Rowland (1992, 1993, 1994) has studied the process
of design across a number of professions and has exam-
ined instructional design specifically. Several of his ob-
servations of design in general are particularly salient
to the design of instruction (1993):
• Design is a goal-directed process in which the goal
is to conceive and realize some new thing.
• The new thing that results from designing has
practical utility.
• A basic task of designing is to convert information
in the form of requirements into information in
the form of specifications.
8 CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
• Design requires social interaction.
• Designing involves problem solving, but not all
problem solving is designing.
• In designing, problem understanding and problem
solving may be simultaneous or sequential
processes.
• Design may be a science, or a combination of sci-
ence and art, or neither science nor art.
• Designing involves technical skills and creativity
and rational and intuitive thought processes.
• A design process is a learning process. (pp. 80–85)
THE INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN PROCESS
Another way to define instructional design is to describe
the process involved in the systematic planning of in-
struction. At the most basic level, the instructional de-
signer’s job is to answer three major questions (Mager,
1984):
1. Where are we going? (What are the goals of the
instruction?)
2. How will we get there? (What is the instructional
strategy and the instructional medium?)
3. How will we know when we have arrived?
(What should our tests look like? How will we
evaluate and revise the instructional materials?)
These three questions can be stated as major activities
that an instructional designer completes during the de-
sign and development process:
1. Perform an instructional analysis to determine
“where we’re going.”
2. Develop an instructional strategy to determine
“how we’ll get there.”
3. Develop and conduct an evaluation to determine
“how we’ll know when we’re there.”
These three activities form the foundation of the ap-
proach to instructional design* that this book describes.
We will expand on these three problem-solving activi-
ties throughout the text.
*We use the term instructional design to refer to the entire
process of design, development, implementation, and revision
of instruction. The term instructional development is a related
term, and if it were not so awkward, we might refer to the
process as instructional design and development. Some as-
pects, particularly production, would seem to fit more easily
under a term such as development rather than design. Since
the term instructional design is currently the most widely used
of the choices available, we will use it in this text.
An Overview of the Design Process: Designing Training
for Digital-Magic Repair Persons
The following section provides an overview of the en-
tire process of designing instruction. We will describe
how designers might prepare a system of instructional
materials to train individuals to repair the fictitious
Digital-Magic 3-D/HD Hyperspheroid Plasma video
system that will soon be marketed throughout the
world.
ANALYSIS. During the activity the designers will learn
as much as they can about the environment in which
the learners (repair persons) will be trained, about the
learners themselves, and about the repair tasks for
which the learners must be prepared. The designer will
ask many questions of the managers and supervisors in
the Digital-Magic company, the developers of the new
television system, those who have provided training
for repair persons in the past, and of the learners them-
selves. They will analyze the learning task itself, asking
what learners must know or be able to do to learn to
make repairs. The designers will want the answers to
questions such as:
1. Will the learners be brought together in a central
location, or will they be trained in their own
work environments?
2. How much time is available for training?
3. Will it be possible for the learners to have access
to the new television systems to work with as
they learn about them?
4. How do learners feel about the training? What
sorts of incentives to learn will they be given?
5. What kinds of people are the prospective learn-
ers? What interests them? What kinds of educa-
tional backgrounds do they have?
6. Do all of the learners have to reach the same
goals?
7. What do the learners already know that will help
them learn the new information or skills?
8. What are the skills and knowledge that the learn-
ers must acquire in order to make the repairs on
the new system? Do they need to know only the
technical procedures of repair, or do they also
need to know the conceptual or theoretical whys
of the procedures?
9. How should the learners’ achievement of the
goals be assessed? Is a pencil-and-paper test ade-
quate? Should learners be assessed on actually re-
pairing a Digital-Magic 3-D/HD video system?
Can this performance be simulated?

SELECTING THE INSTRUCTIONAL STRATEGY. During this
activity, the designers determine the way that instruc-
tional material relating to repair of the television sets
should be presented. They also decide which learning
activities the learners can experience. In addition, the
designers determine what sequence of instruction
should follow. They choose the medium (a single
medium) or media (a combination of multiple media)
that will support the instruction. This is the stage at
which the designers will determine exactly how in-
struction will take place.
Some of the questions that Digital-Magic’s instruc-
tional designers would answer in this activity are the
following:
1. What kinds of content must be learned by the
students? In what size segments should the con-
tent be presented? Should information be pre-
sented, or should the content be embedded
within an activity?
2. In what activities should the learners engage?
What role will learners’ activities have? Will ac-
tivities or projects supplement informational pre-
sentations, or will they be the primary means of
learning? Should activities include learners an-
swering written questions? Should learners prac-
tice troubleshooting problems on the actual
equipment? For what topics (if any) will reading
be an appropriate learning activity? What topics
will require viewing demonstrations and visual
examples? Are discussions needed?
3. In what sequence should instruction proceed?
Should a “discovery” sequence be followed, or
should an “expository” approach be used? If ex-
pository, what sequence of presentation should
be employed?
4. What media are most appropriate for the support
of instruction? Should learners see a live demon-
stration of repair procedures, a videotaped pre-
sentation, or an interactive video presentation?
Should they read about it in a text or workbook,
or should they use both? Should the students
have a job performance aid (such as a manual)
available to them for reference?
5. What groupings should learners be placed in for
learning? Should they study independently, in a
small group, or in a large group?
Notice that instructional design in no way implies
that the instructional strategy must be “direct instruc-
tion” or something “done to” the learner. Instructional
strategy decisions are based on many factors that may
influence what will best facilitate learning. (We will
discuss this particular issue further in Chapter 7, A
Framework for Instructional Strategy Design.)
THE INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN PROCESS 9
EVALUATION. When designing evaluation, the design-
ers plan an approach for evaluating the instructional
materials to determine what kinds of changes need to
be made in them. At Digital-Magic some of the ques-
tions that may be asked include the following:
1. Is the content accurate? Have there been design
changes in the Digital-Magic 3-D/HD video sys-
tems since the instruction was originally devel-
oped?
2. What learners should use the materials in order
to get information to guide revisions? How
should we conduct these tryouts? Should the
sample be large or small? Should students be ob-
served one at a time or in groups?
3. What questions should be answered in order to
determine problems in the instruction?
4. What revisions should be made in the instruc-
tion?
When we use the term evaluation, it will often be in
reference to the broad topic including both assessment
of learners and evaluation of the instruction. When we
are talking about evaluation of students’ learning, we
will generally use the term assessment instead of the
more familiar but often misleading term tests (see
Chapter 6), and we will generally use the term evalua-
tion in the context of evaluating the instruction itself;
the terms formative evaluation and summative evaluation
will be used in this fashion (see Chapter 18).
THE DIGITAL-MAGIC STORY: A POSTMORTEM. The in-
structional designers at Digital-Magic did a good job of
instructional design. The training system for repair per-
sons was highly effective and efficient. Not only did the
student technicians learn what they needed to learn,
but they also enjoyed the process and developed a
good attitude about their work. It was a good thing,
too, because the new television set was very popular in
the market, and the first 10,000 Digital-Magic televi-
sions that were manufactured had a mysterious ten-
dency to fade after six months of use. The well-trained
service technicians fixed the problems, and, as time
passed, they acquired the reputation of being excellent
repair persons, and the video system eventually be-
came a success in the marketplace.
Congruence Among the Activities
of Instructional Design
Instructional designers insist on creating instruction in
which the goals, the instructional strategy, and the
evaluation all match. By “match,” we mean that the
strategy (instructional method) that is used is appro-
priate for the learning task (goals) and that the tests
10 CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
measure how well the learners have achieved the
learning task (assessment).
For example, let’s say you are an instructional de-
signer now, and you are working on designing instruc-
tion in which students will learn to classify objects as
either transparent, translucent, or opaque. Learning
tasks are the things students are to learn, so being able
to classify objects as either transparent, translucent, or
opaque is the learning task, and this particular learning
task involves concept learning. The idea of “matching”
learning tasks and instructional strategy means that you
would select an instructional strategy that is appropriate
for learning concepts; you would ensure that students
were given several examples and nonexamples of the
concepts to be learned. To match evaluation with the
learning task and instructional strategy, you would de-
vise your test to determine whether students have
learned the concepts by asking them to classify objects
as either transparent, translucent, or opaque. In this in-
struction, the objective, the learning activities, and the
assessment are congruent with one another. In other
words, they match.
This consistency between intent and action is seen
in other approaches to the improvement of education.
For example, in the specialties of curriculum develop-
ment and teaching methods, the idea of “curriculum
alignment” is another reflection of congruence be-
tween objectives, instruction, and assessment.
Examples of faulty congruence are regrettably com-
monplace. Most of us have had at least one sad experi-
ence with a course in which goals, class work, and tests
were unrelated to one another, resulting in poor learn-
ing and attitude on students’ parts.
Instructional Design Models
To answer the questions “Where are we going?” “How
will we get there?” and “How will we know when
we’ve arrived?” the designer engages in three major
activities: analysis, strategy development, and evalua-
tion. These three activities are the essence of most in-
structional design models.* Andrews and Goodson (1980)
have described forty such models for systematic design
of instruction. Gustafson and Branch (1997) provide a
more extensive analysis of fourteen models. In this
text, we will recommend a simple model of design (see
Figure 1.2). It is similar to the design models suggested
by Dick and Carey (1985, 2001) and Davis, Alexander,
and Yelon (1974).
We lay no claim of uniqueness to this model. It
could be accurately termed “A Common Model of
*Instructional design models may be defined as visualized de-
pictions of instructional design process, emphasizing main el-
ements and their relationships.
Analysis
Learning contexts
Learners
Learning task Write test items
Strategy
Determine
● Organizational strategies
● Delivery strategies
● Management strategies
Write and produce
instruction
Evaluation
Conduct formative
evaluation
Revise
instruction
Figure 1.2 An Instructional Design Process Model
Instructional Design.” There are some attributes of it,
however, which, though not unique, are not univer-
sally seen. These attributes are inclusion of context
analysis as a function in the design process, sequencing
of test development, and the placement of revision
within the formative evaluation phase.
One attribute of the model that is more apparent than
we intend is sequentiality. Notice in Figure 1.2 that we
have listed some more specific activities of design within
each major activity in a particular sequence. We have
presented the model in what appears to be a linear se-
quence in order to simplify a discussion of the activities of
instructional design and to preview the sequence of that
discussion. Both inexperienced and experienced design-
ers may occasionally follow this sequence; however, par-
ticular circumstances may cause a designer to modify the
sequence of design activities. Many times the steps
within a particular phase may occur concurrently.
Indeed, we might depict the activities of practicing in-
structional designers—especially their mental activities—
to resemble more nearly the representation in Figure 1.3.
Figure 1.3 portrays the interwoven, nonlinear na-
ture of actual design activity. Analysis, strategy devel-
opment, and evaluation activities may, in some cases,

Analysis
Evaluation
Strategy
Figure 1.3 A More Realistic Representation of Instructional
Design Practice
occur concurrently, especially if one is following a
rapid prototyping technique (described in Chapter 20
of this text). During strategy development, new issues
may emerge that send the designer back to more
analysis of the learners, task, or context. During analy-
sis, designers are often developing plans for evaluation
of the instruction. Inevitably, working on one design
activity leads to implications or solutions for other de-
sign activities. Unlike foundational models of design,
such as Gagné-Briggs (see Gagné, Briggs, & Wager,
1992; Dick & Carey, 1985), which might have implied
that instructional design is a linearly sequenced process
and that the designer should not even entertain
thoughts of a subsequent phase until a previous phase
is complete, current models, such as the “ball of
worms” model in Figure 1.3 acknowledge the interre-
latedness and concurrency of all activities of design.
Tessmer & Wedman (1995) provide a model that em-
bodies simultaneity within a systematic, reflective ap-
proach (we will revisit this model in Chapter 20).
Although representing design in a fundamentally
nonlinear manner more accurately reflects relation-
ships among processes in which instructional designers
engage and has the potential to promote “fast tracking”
of instructional design (see Chapter 20), there are dan-
gers in the concurrency model. For example, moving
to strategy development before one has sufficient in-
formation regarding the nature of the learners or the
characteristics of the learning task may increase the
probability that a designer or client fixates on a particu-
lar strategy that is inadequate and becomes clearly so
when more information about the learners and task
becomes available. The concurrency model demands
greater flexibility of designer and client so that they do
not become dedicated to a solution that is later found
to be inappropriate.
THE INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN PROCESS 11
A POSITION STATEMENT ON MODELS. For far too long
the instructional design literature has placed an inordi-
nate focus on models, particularly their physical attrib-
utes. In fact, instructional design models tend only to
be modifications and elaborations of a basic problem-
solving model tailored to the needs of the instructional
design specialty. We do not advocate any particular
model but recommend that you select and modify ele-
ments based on demands of the situation. This process
of building your own model is enabled by a thorough
knowledge of the principles that guide design. A model,
as exemplified by instructional design models, is no
more than a way to begin thinking and learning about
important principles in a relationship that assists their
initial comprehension. The model presented in Figure
1.2 will assist you in building a mental framework, a
scaffold, which should help your learning of critical
principles, and your mastery of which will make the
outlines of the original scaffold unnecessary and open
to your modification and change as situations require.
Advantages of Using Systematic Instructional Design
For those involved in developing instruction, there are
a number of advantages to using a systematic process.
Following is a list of some of the advantages of system-
atic instructional design:
1. Encourages advocacy of the learner. To a very large
degree, the learner is the focus of instruction.
Designers spend a great deal of effort during the begin-
ning stages of a design project trying to find out about
the learner. Information about learners should take
precedence over other factors that might drive design
decisions, including the content itself. Often the de-
signer is not a content expert. In their constant query-
ing of a subject matter expert for clarification, designers
are standing in the place of the learner, trying to obtain
information to make the content clearer to the learner.
2. Supports effective, efficient, and appealing instruction.
All of these factors are considered indicators for suc-
cess. The process of design itself focuses on effective in-
struction. Efficiency is particularly facilitated by the
process of instructional analysis in which inappropriate
content is eliminated. The consideration of the learner
and the concentration on designing appropriate strate-
gies promotes the appeal of instruction. The process of
formative evaluation provides the opportunity to revise
instruction to make it more effective, efficient, and ap-
pealing.
3. Supports coordination among designers, developers, and
those who will implement the instruction. The systematic
process and resulting written documentation allow for
communication and coordination among individuals
involved in designing, producing, and delivering in-
12 CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
struction. It allows for common language and general
procedure. The written plans (goals, description of tar-
get audience, and analysis of task) and the written
products that are results of instructional design efforts
assist the process of review and revision of work in
progress in a coordinated team effort.
4. Facilitates diffusion/dissemination/adoption. Because
the products of systematic instructional design are in
fact physical “products,” they may be duplicated, dis-
tributed, and used in the field. In addition, because de-
sign and development have employed information
about the learners and setting, products will have a
high likelihood of being practical, workable, and ac-
ceptable solutions to the instructional problems that
they are designed to solve.
5. Supports development for alternate embodiments or de-
livery systems. Much of the work that goes into an in-
structional design project is independent of the specific
form that the finished product takes (such as print,
Web. computer, or video). The front-end analysis and
consideration of instructional strategies will be valid
beginning points for projects that result in embodi-
ments other than those used by the original project.
6. Facilitates congruence among objectives, activities, and
assessment. The systematic approach to instructional de-
sign helps ensure that what is taught is what is needed
for learners to achieve stated goals for learning and
that evaluation will be accurate and appropriate.
7. Provides a systematic framework for dealing with learn-
ing problems. Frequently, creative individuals not
trained in systematic instructional design will develop
ingenious approaches to instruction that are rather like
“solutions looking for a problem.” Although these ap-
proaches may add to the repertoire of possible ap-
proaches, they seldom appeal to high-level manage-
ment in government or business, to school system
administrators, or to other funding agencies. The inno-
vations that are generally appealing are those that have
clarified the problem into a learning goal, have devel-
oped an instructional approach that gives reason to be-
lieve that the problem can be solved and the learning
goals will be met, and has a well-constructed plan for
gathering evidence to determine whether the approach
has solved the initial problem and what undesirable ef-
fects it might have.
Limitations of Systematic Instructional Design
Instructional design does have limits of applicability; it
is not the solution to all the ills and problems of educa-
tion and training, nor is it the only method for creating
education. In particular, instructional design has limited
applicability to educational experiences in which (a)
learning goals cannot be identified in advance, or (b) no
particular goals are ever identified (i.e., non-instruc-
tional education). In such cases, because there is no
“lead time” to the education, and since reflection and
planning are central to instructional design, there is
limited opportunity to apply many of its principles and
procedures. An example of such a situation might be an
advanced graduate class or other educational environ-
ment in which the learners have exceptional prior
knowledge of the content; these students would have
well-developed cognitive strategies and be required to
identify the goals of the course, devise the educational
strategies, and assess their learning themselves. If a
teacher is available in this situation, a skilled instructor
might be able to process information rapidly enough so
that as learners identify goals and devise strategies, the
instructor could make suggestions for better or alterna-
tive strategies. In such a case, the teacher’s knowledge
of instructional design may be very helpful in his con-
sultant role; however, he may not have time to employ
much of the instructional design process and principles.
In a situation without prespecified learning goals, if a
teacher is not available, then the responsibility for
structuring the learning experience rests totally on the
learners, and their success depends on their own cogni-
tive strategies, prior knowledge, and motivation. The
educational process in such an environment rests on an
almost completely generative strategy (see Chapter 7
for a discussion of instructional strategies).
In addition to goal-free learning environments,
many other problems and situations are not amenable
to instructional design. (In Chapter 3, we will discuss
solutions, such as management, policy, and incentives,
that are not instructional solutions). Finally, instruc-
tional design is not intended to take the place of exper-
tise in particular teaching methods for individual sub-
ject areas (although instructional design can be a
helpful undergirding for such methods).
People Who Do Instructional Design
As you may (or may not) recall from the Preface, the
treatment of instructional design in this text is intended
for everyone who may benefit from it. Consequently,
you will see more or less equal attention given to exam-
ples from corporate contexts as from K–12 or higher-
education settings. With the variety of application set-
tings in mind, who are the people in those settings who
do instructional design?
TRAINING DESIGNERS. Probably the most identifiable
group of individuals who practice instructional design
are trainers of adults in business, industry, govern-
ment, and private agencies. Trainers may be part of a
human resources department or they may have their
own separate department. They may work in a central-

ized location, consulting with any of the divisions of
the organization that may request their assistance, or
they may be permanently attached to a particular divi-
sion, providing all of the training that division requires.
Not all trainers are instructional designers. Some
trainers are experts in their skill or subject area, who
are either permanently or temporarily assigned to con-
duct training in that area. Other trainers are technical
writers, videographers, or other production specialists
who have high-skill levels in communication within
their medium. Many trainers come from an adult edu-
cation background that emphasizes adult development.
Human resource development (HRD) programs also
prepare trainers for employment in this area.
Many instructional designers who are involved in
training design have developed additional competen-
cies in a more inclusive specialty that is termed “perfor-
mance technology.” These individuals are prepared to
develop interventions that address contributors to poor
employee performance (other than not knowing how
to do the job). These other causes are discussed in
Chapter 3 in the section on “needs assessment.” The
trend toward preparing instructional designers as per-
formance technologists is discussed in Chapter 20.
TEACHERS AS DESIGNERS. Some individuals employed
as teachers are directly involved in the design of new
instruction (or new “curricula,” as is more commonly
described in public and private K–12 and postsec-
ondary education). These teachers may be involved in
ongoing and long-term projects. Certainly, instruc-
tional design procedures and principles can be em-
ployed effectively in their curriculum design and devel-
opment activities. These instructional design practices
may be as formal, precise, and well documented as any
other instructional design project because of the need
for group communication and the development of a
record that codifies the decisions that they have made
and why they have made them.
Do teachers not involved in curriculum design pro-
jects use instructional design principles and procedures?
Indeed, they do. Although they may receive goal state-
ments based on statewide initiatives, they do consider
these goals and may add goals or identify subgoals (ob-
jectives) that will lead to these goals with aid from cur-
riculum guides, textbooks, or their own task analysis
reflection. Teachers select or develop activities and in-
formation sources that will assist learners in reaching
these goals. The development of engaging activities
seems to be a particular strength of practicing teachers.
Teachers also select or develop ways to assess learners’
progress toward reaching goals. These assessment ap-
proaches may include written tests, performance tests,
observation, oral questioning, and a variety of other
techniques for assessing learning. Teachers use informa-
THE INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN PROCESS 13
tion from their testing to revise their instruction, espe-
cially for remediation. These design activities are com-
pleted both planfully in advance of implementation and
spontaneously as circumstances suggest their use.
Both teachers who have taken courses in instructional
design and teachers who have not engage in these
types of instructional design activities (Martin, 1990).
However, those trained in systematic instructional design
tend to engage in these activities more consistently, thor-
oughly, and reflectively than their untrained colleagues
(Reiser & Mory, 1991). Most often, these instructional
design activities are conducted mentally with little docu-
mentation of the decisions made.
OTHER DESIGNERS. Instructional designers are also en-
gaged in developing instruction that is embodied in text-
books, multimedia, instructional software, and videos
used in K–12 and postsecondary settings. Such individu-
als are often employed in settings such as publishing
houses and regional educational laboratories. We also
see instructional designers as members of development
teams of educational videos such as “Sesame Street” and
“Reading Rainbow,” and of many Web-based education
projects both publicly and privately funded.
Instructional designers are sometimes called upon to
make contributions in the visual realm. Not only are
the form and content of illustrations a critical part of
much instruction, but also visualizations and visual
meta-phors which may underlie a simulation, micro-
world, virtual reality, or exploratory learning environ-
ment may benefit from the contributions of an instruc-
tional designer who possesses a high proficiency in
visual literacy skills in addition to core instructional de-
sign competencies.
Competencies, Standards, and Ethics
of Instructional Designers
COMPETENCIES. Various agencies have compiled sets
of competencies for instructional designers. Although
your work with this text in a single course will not pre-
pare you for all of the competencies in any set, a sub-
stantial proportion of these desired skills is reflected in
the learning goals and content of this text. Your review
of these competencies can assist you in orienting to the
specialty as well as a self-check in the future.
One of the more widely used set of competencies for
instructional designers is that developed by IBSTPI
(International Board of Standards for Training,
Performance, and Instruction). The IBSTPI instructional
designer competencies can be found in the organiza-
tion’s website: http://www.ibstpi.org.
Another useful set of competencies is that developed
by the American Society for Training and Development
14 CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
(ASTD). The ASTD competencies are directed toward
human resource development and performance im-
provement in corporate contexts. The ASTD competen-
cies may be found at http://www.astd.org. In addition,
Analysis & Technology, Inc. has developed a set of
competencies, which is available at http://www.coedu
.usf.edu/IT/resources/competen.html
STANDARDS. Fields and his associates (Fields, Foxton, &
Richey, 2001) elaborated the IBSTPI competencies with
training standards as well as provided a description of
common specializations and uses of standards by various
subgroups. In addition, the Association for Educational
Communications and Technology (AECT) has developed
the standards used by the National Council for
Accreditation of Teacher Education (NCATE) to support
accrediting of both the technology component of under-
graduate teacher education programs, and graduate pro-
grams in instructional design and technology; more in-
formation on the AECT/NCATE standards may be found
at http://www.aect.org/standards/index.html.
ETHICS. Like competencies and standards, professional
codes of ethics provide guidance for good practice.
Ethics provide a different insight from that provided by
performance standards: a moral compass. Although
ethicists are quick to point out that morals and ethics
are not the same thing, it is a sense of right that ethics
provide that other codes are missing. Elsewhere in this
text, your authors describe themselves, philosophically,
as striving to be “pragmatists with a moral compass.” To
identify what merely works well or what is effective is
not always sufficient to recommend what should (or
should not) be done. For the broader profession of edu-
cation, focusing more on K–12 school professionals, the
National Education Association (NEA) has developed a
short but useful statement of ethics for educators which
focuses on commitments to students and to the profes-
sion of education (http://www.nea.org/code.html).
Closer to our specialty, Welliver (2001) has edited a vol-
ume for AECT on ethics for educational communica-
tions and technology professionals. Welliver’s statement
includes relationships to individuals, to society, and to
the profession. The Welliver ethics volume is available
online at http://www.aect.org and is available in full
text online without charge to AECT members.
E X E R C I S E S c. A television documentary presents information
1. What activities other than those of an engineer are
similar to the role of an instructional designer? Describe
these similarities in your own words.
2. Following is a description of the design procedures
that an instructional designer is conducting. Identify by
writing on the line beside the description which
phase—analysis (A), strategy development (SD), or eval-
uation (E)—the designer is completing.
_____ a. The designer determines that the prospective
learners are able to read (on the average) at
the ninth-grade reading level.
_____ b. The designer decides to use a simulation
method as part of training a department
store’s customer service representatives.
_____ c. The designer determines what the learners
need to know in order to learn to balance
chemical equations.
_____ d. After a tryout of the prototype of a computer-
based instruction (CBI) lesson on writing in-
structional objectives, the designer adds ad-
ditional practice items on identifying the
“conditions” of an objective.
_____ e. The designer writes test items to assess
whether learners have achieved the objectives
of a CBI lesson.
3. Which of the following activities would be educa-
tion, instruction, training, and/ or teaching? Circle the
term or terms that apply.
a. The teacher presents a lesson in which she hopes
that the learners will learn the difference between
polygons and non-polygons. She has carefully planned
activities in which she will present examples and
nonexamples of polygons and will help students deter-
mine the differences. She will test the students at the
end of instruction to confirm that they have learned to
identify those geometric figures that are polygons.
education instruction teaching training
b. The instructional designer for a large corpora-
tion has developed a print-based instructional pack-
age for managers who are involved in hiring to pre-
pare them to follow legal practices during the hiring
process. The learning materials inform them of the
rules and show them examples and nonexamples of
the rules’ application. The tests provide a copy of an
interview dialog between a manager and a potential
employee. The learners must indicate whether all
laws were followed. If they were not followed, learn-
ers must identify which laws were broken and what
should have been said to avoid breaking the law.
education instruction teaching training
on types of whales, where whales live, what whales
do, what whales eat, and the history of whales.
Viewers tend to remember and learn different things
from the program depending on what they already
knew and their interests.
education instruction teaching training
 SUMMARY 15

and forth between activities as the project develops.

SUMMARY
One of the reasons that the quality of much instruc-
tional material is poor is because it is not carefully
planned. Instructional design activities offer a process
for the systematic planning of instruction that may im-
prove the effectiveness of the materials. The design
process includes the activities of analysis, strategy de-
velopment, evaluation, and revision. Although the in-
structional design process may often be portrayed as
linear, in practice it is frequently iterative, moving back
Some implementations of instructional design include
rapid prototyping in which a trial version of the com-
pleted instructional plans and materials are produced
early during the process and are revised and elaborated
upon as new information becomes available. The com-
ponents of instruction—goals, learning activities, and
information resources—and assessment tools, which
are the products of the design process, should be con-
gruent with each other. Before you begin actually de-
signing and producing your own materials, you will
learn in the following chapters a few of the fundamen-

Instruction is...

the development and delivery of information

and activities that are created to facilitate
attainment of intended, specific learning goals.

Related Terms...

Education: All experiences in which

people learn.
Training instruction focused toward acquiring
specific skills that will be used immediately.

Assists coordination.

Three Phases of the Instructional Design Process...

Analysis

Strategy Revision

Evaluation

Advantages Limitations

Provides learner advocacy

Requires identification of outcome

Promotes effective, efficient, Requires lead time

appealing instruction
Assists coordination Is not applicable to noninstructional
problems
Facilitates dissemination

Supports development of alternative

delivery
Has congruence among objectives,
activities,and assessment

Figure 1.4 Summary Diagram for Chapter 1

16 CHAPTER 1. INTRODUCTION TO INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
tal principles and procedures of instructional design.
Figure 1.4 summarizes the major points in this chapter
thus far.
EXTENDED EXAMPLE: A PREVIEW
You can see the design process described in this text
applied to a single course in the Extended Example, on
a chapter-by-chapter basis. If you wish you can over-
view the Extended Example now at: http://www.wiley
.com/college/smith.
Later on, as you read each chapter, you can study ap-
plication of it in the Extended Example. The Extended
Example uses one course, a course in beginning pho-
tography, to provide continuity of application. In addi-
tion to the Extended Example, examples using a variety
of topics and contexts are provided in each chapter.
READINGS AND REFERENCES
Akin, O. (1994). Creativity in design. Performance Improvement
Quarterly, 7(3), 9–21.
Andrews, D. H., & Goodson, L. A. (1980). A comparative
analysis of models of instructional design. Journal of
Instructional Development, 3, 2–16.
Braden, R. (1996). The case for linear instructional design
and development: A commentary on models, challenges,
and myths. Educational Technology, 36(2), 5–23.
Bratton, B. (1995). Professional competencies and certifica-
tion in the instructional technology field. Instructional
Technology Past, Present and Future. Englewood, CO:
Libraries Unlimited, Inc.
Briggs, L. J. (Ed.). (1977). Instructional design: Principles and ap-
plications. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Educational Technology
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Davis, R. H., Alexander, L. T., & Yelon, S. L. (1974). Learning
system design. New York: McGraw-Hill.
Dean, P. J. (1995). Examining the practice of human perfor-
mance technology. Performance Improvement Quarterly, 8(2),
68–94.
Dick, W., & Carey, L. (1985). The systematic design of instruction.
Glenview, IL: Scott, Foresman.
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(5th ed.). New York: Addison-Wesley.
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Edmonds, G. S., Branch, R. C., & Mukherjee, P. (1994). A
conceptual framework for comparing instructional design
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Gagné, R. M., Briggs, L. J., & Wager, W. W. (1992). Principles
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Jovanovich.
Gagné, R. M., & Dick, W. (1983). Instructional psychology.
Annual Review of Psychology, 34, 261–295.
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make a difference? Performance Improvement Quarterly, 3(4),
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out-of-control”: Design actions and systems thinking.
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Curriculum Development.
 FOUNDATIONS OF
INSTRUCTIONAL DESIGN
C H A P T E R

C H A P T E R O B J E C T I V E S
At the conclusion of this chapter, you should be able to do the following:
• Discuss how some philosophical perspectives, particularly constructivism, empiricism, and pragmatism,
have influenced the assumptions, beliefs, and values of instructional designers.
• Describe at least four major assumptions of the authors of this text regarding instructional design and
discuss how these assumptions relate to your own philosophy of education.
• Discuss why it is important that instructional designers know the philosophical perspectives and theory
bases associated with their field.
• Recognize whether a description of learning or instruction constitutes a theory and discuss the purpose
of theory.
• Describe each of the major theory bases and the ways in which they have contributed to instructional design
practices.
• Given a description of a learning situation, describe how learning occurs according to information process-
ing theory.

17
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 DANCE ON STILTS AT THE GIRLS’ UNYAGO, NIUCHI

Newala, too, suffers from the distance of its water-supply—at least

the Newala of to-day does; there was once another Newala in a lovely
valley at the foot of the plateau. I visited it and found scarcely a trace
of houses, only a Christian cemetery, with the graves of several
missionaries and their converts, remaining as a monument of its
former glories. But the surroundings are wonderfully beautiful. A
thick grove of splendid mango-trees closes in the weather-worn
crosses and headstones; behind them, combining the useful and the
agreeable, is a whole plantation of lemon-trees covered with ripe
fruit; not the small African kind, but a much larger and also juicier
imported variety, which drops into the hands of the passing traveller,
without calling for any exertion on his part. Old Newala is now under
the jurisdiction of the native pastor, Daudi, at Chingulungulu, who,
as I am on very friendly terms with him, allows me, as a matter of
course, the use of this lemon-grove during my stay at Newala.
 FEET MUTILATED BY THE RAVAGES OF THE “JIGGER”
(Sarcopsylla penetrans)

The water-supply of New Newala is in the bottom of the valley,

some 1,600 feet lower down. The way is not only long and fatiguing,
but the water, when we get it, is thoroughly bad. We are suffering not
only from this, but from the fact that the arrangements at Newala are
nothing short of luxurious. We have a separate kitchen—a hut built
against the boma palisade on the right of the baraza, the interior of
which is not visible from our usual position. Our two cooks were not
long in finding this out, and they consequently do—or rather neglect
to do—what they please. In any case they do not seem to be very
particular about the boiling of our drinking-water—at least I can
attribute to no other cause certain attacks of a dysenteric nature,
from which both Knudsen and I have suffered for some time. If a
man like Omari has to be left unwatched for a moment, he is capable
of anything. Besides this complaint, we are inconvenienced by the
state of our nails, which have become as hard as glass, and crack on
the slightest provocation, and I have the additional infliction of
pimples all over me. As if all this were not enough, we have also, for
the last week been waging war against the jigger, who has found his
Eldorado in the hot sand of the Makonde plateau. Our men are seen
all day long—whenever their chronic colds and the dysentery likewise
raging among them permit—occupied in removing this scourge of
Africa from their feet and trying to prevent the disastrous
consequences of its presence. It is quite common to see natives of
this place with one or two toes missing; many have lost all their toes,
or even the whole front part of the foot, so that a well-formed leg
ends in a shapeless stump. These ravages are caused by the female of
Sarcopsylla penetrans, which bores its way under the skin and there
develops an egg-sac the size of a pea. In all books on the subject, it is
stated that one’s attention is called to the presence of this parasite by
an intolerable itching. This agrees very well with my experience, so
far as the softer parts of the sole, the spaces between and under the
toes, and the side of the foot are concerned, but if the creature
penetrates through the harder parts of the heel or ball of the foot, it
may escape even the most careful search till it has reached maturity.
Then there is no time to be lost, if the horrible ulceration, of which
we see cases by the dozen every day, is to be prevented. It is much
easier, by the way, to discover the insect on the white skin of a
European than on that of a native, on which the dark speck scarcely
shows. The four or five jiggers which, in spite of the fact that I
constantly wore high laced boots, chose my feet to settle in, were
taken out for me by the all-accomplished Knudsen, after which I
thought it advisable to wash out the cavities with corrosive
sublimate. The natives have a different sort of disinfectant—they fill
the hole with scraped roots. In a tiny Makua village on the slope of
the plateau south of Newala, we saw an old woman who had filled all
the spaces under her toe-nails with powdered roots by way of
prophylactic treatment. What will be the result, if any, who can say?
The rest of the many trifling ills which trouble our existence are
really more comic than serious. In the absence of anything else to
smoke, Knudsen and I at last opened a box of cigars procured from
the Indian store-keeper at Lindi, and tried them, with the most
distressing results. Whether they contain opium or some other
narcotic, neither of us can say, but after the tenth puff we were both
“off,” three-quarters stupefied and unspeakably wretched. Slowly we
recovered—and what happened next? Half-an-hour later we were
once more smoking these poisonous concoctions—so insatiable is the
craving for tobacco in the tropics.
Even my present attacks of fever scarcely deserve to be taken
seriously. I have had no less than three here at Newala, all of which
have run their course in an incredibly short time. In the early
afternoon, I am busy with my old natives, asking questions and
making notes. The strong midday coffee has stimulated my spirits to
an extraordinary degree, the brain is active and vigorous, and work
progresses rapidly, while a pleasant warmth pervades the whole
body. Suddenly this gives place to a violent chill, forcing me to put on
my overcoat, though it is only half-past three and the afternoon sun
is at its hottest. Now the brain no longer works with such acuteness
and logical precision; more especially does it fail me in trying to
establish the syntax of the difficult Makua language on which I have
ventured, as if I had not enough to do without it. Under the
circumstances it seems advisable to take my temperature, and I do
so, to save trouble, without leaving my seat, and while going on with
my work. On examination, I find it to be 101·48°. My tutors are
abruptly dismissed and my bed set up in the baraza; a few minutes
later I am in it and treating myself internally with hot water and
lemon-juice.
Three hours later, the thermometer marks nearly 104°, and I make
them carry me back into the tent, bed and all, as I am now perspiring
heavily, and exposure to the cold wind just beginning to blow might
mean a fatal chill. I lie still for a little while, and then find, to my
great relief, that the temperature is not rising, but rather falling. This
is about 7.30 p.m. At 8 p.m. I find, to my unbounded astonishment,
that it has fallen below 98·6°, and I feel perfectly well. I read for an
hour or two, and could very well enjoy a smoke, if I had the
wherewithal—Indian cigars being out of the question.
Having no medical training, I am at a loss to account for this state
of things. It is impossible that these transitory attacks of high fever
should be malarial; it seems more probable that they are due to a
kind of sunstroke. On consulting my note-book, I become more and
more inclined to think this is the case, for these attacks regularly
follow extreme fatigue and long exposure to strong sunshine. They at
least have the advantage of being only short interruptions to my
work, as on the following morning I am always quite fresh and fit.
My treasure of a cook is suffering from an enormous hydrocele which
makes it difficult for him to get up, and Moritz is obliged to keep in
the dark on account of his inflamed eyes. Knudsen’s cook, a raw boy
from somewhere in the bush, knows still less of cooking than Omari;
consequently Nils Knudsen himself has been promoted to the vacant
post. Finding that we had come to the end of our supplies, he began
by sending to Chingulungulu for the four sucking-pigs which we had
bought from Matola and temporarily left in his charge; and when
they came up, neatly packed in a large crate, he callously slaughtered
the biggest of them. The first joint we were thoughtless enough to
entrust for roasting to Knudsen’s mshenzi cook, and it was
consequently uneatable; but we made the rest of the animal into a
jelly which we ate with great relish after weeks of underfeeding,
consuming incredible helpings of it at both midday and evening
meals. The only drawback is a certain want of variety in the tinned
vegetables. Dr. Jäger, to whom the Geographical Commission
entrusted the provisioning of the expeditions—mine as well as his
own—because he had more time on his hands than the rest of us,
seems to have laid in a huge stock of Teltow turnips,[46] an article of
food which is all very well for occasional use, but which quickly palls
when set before one every day; and we seem to have no other tins
left. There is no help for it—we must put up with the turnips; but I
am certain that, once I am home again, I shall not touch them for ten
years to come.
Amid all these minor evils, which, after all, go to make up the
genuine flavour of Africa, there is at least one cheering touch:
Knudsen has, with the dexterity of a skilled mechanic, repaired my 9
× 12 cm. camera, at least so far that I can use it with a little care.
How, in the absence of finger-nails, he was able to accomplish such a
ticklish piece of work, having no tool but a clumsy screw-driver for
taking to pieces and putting together again the complicated
mechanism of the instantaneous shutter, is still a mystery to me; but
he did it successfully. The loss of his finger-nails shows him in a light
contrasting curiously enough with the intelligence evinced by the
above operation; though, after all, it is scarcely surprising after his
ten years’ residence in the bush. One day, at Lindi, he had occasion
to wash a dog, which must have been in need of very thorough
cleansing, for the bottle handed to our friend for the purpose had an
extremely strong smell. Having performed his task in the most
conscientious manner, he perceived with some surprise that the dog
did not appear much the better for it, and was further surprised by
finding his own nails ulcerating away in the course of the next few
days. “How was I to know that carbolic acid has to be diluted?” he
mutters indignantly, from time to time, with a troubled gaze at his
mutilated finger-tips.
 Since we came to Newala we have been making excursions in all
directions through the surrounding country, in accordance with old
habit, and also because the akida Sefu did not get together the tribal
elders from whom I wanted information so speedily as he had
promised. There is, however, no harm done, as, even if seen only
from the outside, the country and people are interesting enough.
The Makonde plateau is like a large rectangular table rounded off
at the corners. Measured from the Indian Ocean to Newala, it is
about seventy-five miles long, and between the Rovuma and the
Lukuledi it averages fifty miles in breadth, so that its superficial area
is about two-thirds of that of the kingdom of Saxony. The surface,
however, is not level, but uniformly inclined from its south-western
edge to the ocean. From the upper edge, on which Newala lies, the
eye ranges for many miles east and north-east, without encountering
any obstacle, over the Makonde bush. It is a green sea, from which
here and there thick clouds of smoke rise, to show that it, too, is
inhabited by men who carry on their tillage like so many other
primitive peoples, by cutting down and burning the bush, and
manuring with the ashes. Even in the radiant light of a tropical day
such a fire is a grand sight.
Much less effective is the impression produced just now by the
great western plain as seen from the edge of the plateau. As often as
time permits, I stroll along this edge, sometimes in one direction,
sometimes in another, in the hope of finding the air clear enough to
let me enjoy the view; but I have always been disappointed.
Wherever one looks, clouds of smoke rise from the burning bush,
and the air is full of smoke and vapour. It is a pity, for under more
favourable circumstances the panorama of the whole country up to
the distant Majeje hills must be truly magnificent. It is of little use
taking photographs now, and an outline sketch gives a very poor idea
of the scenery. In one of these excursions I went out of my way to
make a personal attempt on the Makonde bush. The present edge of
the plateau is the result of a far-reaching process of destruction
through erosion and denudation. The Makonde strata are
everywhere cut into by ravines, which, though short, are hundreds of
yards in depth. In consequence of the loose stratification of these
beds, not only are the walls of these ravines nearly vertical, but their
upper end is closed by an equally steep escarpment, so that the
western edge of the Makonde plateau is hemmed in by a series of
deep, basin-like valleys. In order to get from one side of such a ravine
to the other, I cut my way through the bush with a dozen of my men.
It was a very open part, with more grass than scrub, but even so the
short stretch of less than two hundred yards was very hard work; at
the end of it the men’s calicoes were in rags and they themselves
bleeding from hundreds of scratches, while even our strong khaki
suits had not escaped scatheless.

NATIVE PATH THROUGH THE MAKONDE BUSH, NEAR

MAHUTA

I see increasing reason to believe that the view formed some time
back as to the origin of the Makonde bush is the correct one. I have
no doubt that it is not a natural product, but the result of human
occupation. Those parts of the high country where man—as a very
slight amount of practice enables the eye to perceive at once—has not
yet penetrated with axe and hoe, are still occupied by a splendid
timber forest quite able to sustain a comparison with our mixed
forests in Germany. But wherever man has once built his hut or tilled
his field, this horrible bush springs up. Every phase of this process
may be seen in the course of a couple of hours’ walk along the main
road. From the bush to right or left, one hears the sound of the axe—
not from one spot only, but from several directions at once. A few
steps further on, we can see what is taking place. The brush has been
cut down and piled up in heaps to the height of a yard or more,
between which the trunks of the large trees stand up like the last
pillars of a magnificent ruined building. These, too, present a
melancholy spectacle: the destructive Makonde have ringed them—
cut a broad strip of bark all round to ensure their dying off—and also
piled up pyramids of brush round them. Father and son, mother and
son-in-law, are chopping away perseveringly in the background—too
busy, almost, to look round at the white stranger, who usually excites
so much interest. If you pass by the same place a week later, the piles
of brushwood have disappeared and a thick layer of ashes has taken
the place of the green forest. The large trees stretch their
smouldering trunks and branches in dumb accusation to heaven—if
they have not already fallen and been more or less reduced to ashes,
perhaps only showing as a white stripe on the dark ground.
This work of destruction is carried out by the Makonde alike on the
virgin forest and on the bush which has sprung up on sites already
cultivated and deserted. In the second case they are saved the trouble
of burning the large trees, these being entirely absent in the
secondary bush.
After burning this piece of forest ground and loosening it with the
hoe, the native sows his corn and plants his vegetables. All over the
country, he goes in for bed-culture, which requires, and, in fact,
receives, the most careful attention. Weeds are nowhere tolerated in
the south of German East Africa. The crops may fail on the plains,
where droughts are frequent, but never on the plateau with its
abundant rains and heavy dews. Its fortunate inhabitants even have
the satisfaction of seeing the proud Wayao and Wamakua working
for them as labourers, driven by hunger to serve where they were
accustomed to rule.
But the light, sandy soil is soon exhausted, and would yield no
harvest the second year if cultivated twice running. This fact has
been familiar to the native for ages; consequently he provides in
time, and, while his crop is growing, prepares the next plot with axe
and firebrand. Next year he plants this with his various crops and
lets the first piece lie fallow. For a short time it remains waste and
desolate; then nature steps in to repair the destruction wrought by
man; a thousand new growths spring out of the exhausted soil, and
even the old stumps put forth fresh shoots. Next year the new growth
is up to one’s knees, and in a few years more it is that terrible,
impenetrable bush, which maintains its position till the black
occupier of the land has made the round of all the available sites and
come back to his starting point.
The Makonde are, body and soul, so to speak, one with this bush.
According to my Yao informants, indeed, their name means nothing
else but “bush people.” Their own tradition says that they have been
settled up here for a very long time, but to my surprise they laid great
stress on an original immigration. Their old homes were in the
south-east, near Mikindani and the mouth of the Rovuma, whence
their peaceful forefathers were driven by the continual raids of the
Sakalavas from Madagascar and the warlike Shirazis[47] of the coast,
to take refuge on the almost inaccessible plateau. I have studied
African ethnology for twenty years, but the fact that changes of
population in this apparently quiet and peaceable corner of the earth
could have been occasioned by outside enterprises taking place on
the high seas, was completely new to me. It is, no doubt, however,
correct.
The charming tribal legend of the Makonde—besides informing us
of other interesting matters—explains why they have to live in the
thickest of the bush and a long way from the edge of the plateau,
instead of making their permanent homes beside the purling brooks
and springs of the low country.
“The place where the tribe originated is Mahuta, on the southern
side of the plateau towards the Rovuma, where of old time there was
nothing but thick bush. Out of this bush came a man who never
washed himself or shaved his head, and who ate and drank but little.
He went out and made a human figure from the wood of a tree
growing in the open country, which he took home to his abode in the
bush and there set it upright. In the night this image came to life and
was a woman. The man and woman went down together to the
Rovuma to wash themselves. Here the woman gave birth to a still-
born child. They left that place and passed over the high land into the
valley of the Mbemkuru, where the woman had another child, which
was also born dead. Then they returned to the high bush country of
Mahuta, where the third child was born, which lived and grew up. In
course of time, the couple had many more children, and called
themselves Wamatanda. These were the ancestral stock of the
Makonde, also called Wamakonde,[48] i.e., aborigines. Their
forefather, the man from the bush, gave his children the command to
bury their dead upright, in memory of the mother of their race who
was cut out of wood and awoke to life when standing upright. He also
warned them against settling in the valleys and near large streams,
for sickness and death dwelt there. They were to make it a rule to
have their huts at least an hour’s walk from the nearest watering-
place; then their children would thrive and escape illness.”
The explanation of the name Makonde given by my informants is
somewhat different from that contained in the above legend, which I
extract from a little book (small, but packed with information), by
Pater Adams, entitled Lindi und sein Hinterland. Otherwise, my
results agree exactly with the statements of the legend. Washing?
Hapana—there is no such thing. Why should they do so? As it is, the
supply of water scarcely suffices for cooking and drinking; other
people do not wash, so why should the Makonde distinguish himself
by such needless eccentricity? As for shaving the head, the short,
woolly crop scarcely needs it,[49] so the second ancestral precept is
likewise easy enough to follow. Beyond this, however, there is
nothing ridiculous in the ancestor’s advice. I have obtained from
various local artists a fairly large number of figures carved in wood,
ranging from fifteen to twenty-three inches in height, and
representing women belonging to the great group of the Mavia,
Makonde, and Matambwe tribes. The carving is remarkably well
done and renders the female type with great accuracy, especially the
keloid ornamentation, to be described later on. As to the object and
meaning of their works the sculptors either could or (more probably)
would tell me nothing, and I was forced to content myself with the
scanty information vouchsafed by one man, who said that the figures
were merely intended to represent the nembo—the artificial
deformations of pelele, ear-discs, and keloids. The legend recorded
by Pater Adams places these figures in a new light. They must surely
be more than mere dolls; and we may even venture to assume that
they are—though the majority of present-day Makonde are probably
unaware of the fact—representations of the tribal ancestress.
 The references in the legend to the descent from Mahuta to the
Rovuma, and to a journey across the highlands into the Mbekuru
valley, undoubtedly indicate the previous history of the tribe, the
travels of the ancestral pair typifying the migrations of their
descendants. The descent to the neighbouring Rovuma valley, with
its extraordinary fertility and great abundance of game, is intelligible
at a glance—but the crossing of the Lukuledi depression, the ascent
to the Rondo Plateau and the descent to the Mbemkuru, also lie
within the bounds of probability, for all these districts have exactly
the same character as the extreme south. Now, however, comes a
point of especial interest for our bacteriological age. The primitive
Makonde did not enjoy their lives in the marshy river-valleys.
Disease raged among them, and many died. It was only after they
had returned to their original home near Mahuta, that the health
conditions of these people improved. We are very apt to think of the
African as a stupid person whose ignorance of nature is only equalled
by his fear of it, and who looks on all mishaps as caused by evil
spirits and malignant natural powers. It is much more correct to
assume in this case that the people very early learnt to distinguish
districts infested with malaria from those where it is absent.
This knowledge is crystallized in the
ancestral warning against settling in the
valleys and near the great waters, the
dwelling-places of disease and death. At the
same time, for security against the hostile
Mavia south of the Rovuma, it was enacted
that every settlement must be not less than a
certain distance from the southern edge of the
plateau. Such in fact is their mode of life at the
present day. It is not such a bad one, and
certainly they are both safer and more
comfortable than the Makua, the recent
intruders from the south, who have made USUAL METHOD OF
good their footing on the western edge of the CLOSING HUT-DOOR
plateau, extending over a fairly wide belt of
country. Neither Makua nor Makonde show in their dwellings
anything of the size and comeliness of the Yao houses in the plain,
especially at Masasi, Chingulungulu and Zuza’s. Jumbe Chauro, a
Makonde hamlet not far from Newala, on the road to Mahuta, is the
most important settlement of the tribe I have yet seen, and has fairly
spacious huts. But how slovenly is their construction compared with
the palatial residences of the elephant-hunters living in the plain.
The roofs are still more untidy than in the general run of huts during
the dry season, the walls show here and there the scanty beginnings
or the lamentable remains of the mud plastering, and the interior is a
veritable dog-kennel; dirt, dust and disorder everywhere. A few huts
only show any attempt at division into rooms, and this consists
merely of very roughly-made bamboo partitions. In one point alone
have I noticed any indication of progress—in the method of fastening
the door. Houses all over the south are secured in a simple but
ingenious manner. The door consists of a set of stout pieces of wood
or bamboo, tied with bark-string to two cross-pieces, and moving in
two grooves round one of the door-posts, so as to open inwards. If
the owner wishes to leave home, he takes two logs as thick as a man’s
upper arm and about a yard long. One of these is placed obliquely
against the middle of the door from the inside, so as to form an angle
of from 60° to 75° with the ground. He then places the second piece
horizontally across the first, pressing it downward with all his might.
It is kept in place by two strong posts planted in the ground a few
inches inside the door. This fastening is absolutely safe, but of course
cannot be applied to both doors at once, otherwise how could the
owner leave or enter his house? I have not yet succeeded in finding
out how the back door is fastened.

MAKONDE LOCK AND KEY AT JUMBE CHAURO

 This is the general way of closing a house. The Makonde at Jumbe
Chauro, however, have a much more complicated, solid and original
one. Here, too, the door is as already described, except that there is
only one post on the inside, standing by itself about six inches from
one side of the doorway. Opposite this post is a hole in the wall just
large enough to admit a man’s arm. The door is closed inside by a
large wooden bolt passing through a hole in this post and pressing
with its free end against the door. The other end has three holes into
which fit three pegs running in vertical grooves inside the post. The
door is opened with a wooden key about a foot long, somewhat
curved and sloped off at the butt; the other end has three pegs
corresponding to the holes, in the bolt, so that, when it is thrust
through the hole in the wall and inserted into the rectangular
opening in the post, the pegs can be lifted and the bolt drawn out.[50]

MODE OF INSERTING THE KEY

With no small pride first one householder and then a second

showed me on the spot the action of this greatest invention of the
Makonde Highlands. To both with an admiring exclamation of
“Vizuri sana!” (“Very fine!”). I expressed the wish to take back these
marvels with me to Ulaya, to show the Wazungu what clever fellows
the Makonde are. Scarcely five minutes after my return to camp at
Newala, the two men came up sweating under the weight of two
heavy logs which they laid down at my feet, handing over at the same
time the keys of the fallen fortress. Arguing, logically enough, that if
the key was wanted, the lock would be wanted with it, they had taken
their axes and chopped down the posts—as it never occurred to them
to dig them out of the ground and so bring them intact. Thus I have
two badly damaged specimens, and the owners, instead of praise,
come in for a blowing-up.
The Makua huts in the environs of Newala are especially
miserable; their more than slovenly construction reminds one of the
temporary erections of the Makua at Hatia’s, though the people here
have not been concerned in a war. It must therefore be due to
congenital idleness, or else to the absence of a powerful chief. Even
the baraza at Mlipa’s, a short hour’s walk south-east of Newala,
shares in this general neglect. While public buildings in this country
are usually looked after more or less carefully, this is in evident
danger of being blown over by the first strong easterly gale. The only
attractive object in this whole district is the grave of the late chief
Mlipa. I visited it in the morning, while the sun was still trying with
partial success to break through the rolling mists, and the circular
grove of tall euphorbias, which, with a broken pot, is all that marks
the old king’s resting-place, impressed one with a touch of pathos.
Even my very materially-minded carriers seemed to feel something
of the sort, for instead of their usual ribald songs, they chanted
solemnly, as we marched on through the dense green of the Makonde
bush:—
 “We shall arrive with the great master; we stand in a row and have
no fear about getting our food and our money from the Serkali (the
Government). We are not afraid; we are going along with the great
master, the lion; we are going down to the coast and back.”
With regard to the characteristic features of the various tribes here
on the western edge of the plateau, I can arrive at no other
conclusion than the one already come to in the plain, viz., that it is
impossible for anyone but a trained anthropologist to assign any
given individual at once to his proper tribe. In fact, I think that even
an anthropological specialist, after the most careful examination,
might find it a difficult task to decide. The whole congeries of peoples
collected in the region bounded on the west by the great Central
African rift, Tanganyika and Nyasa, and on the east by the Indian
Ocean, are closely related to each other—some of their languages are
only distinguished from one another as dialects of the same speech,
and no doubt all the tribes present the same shape of skull and
structure of skeleton. Thus, surely, there can be no very striking
differences in outward appearance.
 Even did such exist, I should have no time
to concern myself with them, for day after day,
I have to see or hear, as the case may be—in
any case to grasp and record—an
extraordinary number of ethnographic
phenomena. I am almost disposed to think it
fortunate that some departments of inquiry, at
least, are barred by external circumstances.
Chief among these is the subject of iron-
working. We are apt to think of Africa as a
country where iron ore is everywhere, so to
speak, to be picked up by the roadside, and
where it would be quite surprising if the
inhabitants had not learnt to smelt the
material ready to their hand. In fact, the
knowledge of this art ranges all over the
continent, from the Kabyles in the north to the
Kafirs in the south. Here between the Rovuma
and the Lukuledi the conditions are not so
favourable. According to the statements of the
Makonde, neither ironstone nor any other
form of iron ore is known to them. They have
not therefore advanced to the art of smelting
the metal, but have hitherto bought all their
THE ANCESTRESS OF
THE MAKONDE
iron implements from neighbouring tribes.
Even in the plain the inhabitants are not much
better off. Only one man now living is said to
understand the art of smelting iron. This old fundi lives close to
Huwe, that isolated, steep-sided block of granite which rises out of
the green solitude between Masasi and Chingulungulu, and whose
jagged and splintered top meets the traveller’s eye everywhere. While
still at Masasi I wished to see this man at work, but was told that,
frightened by the rising, he had retired across the Rovuma, though
he would soon return. All subsequent inquiries as to whether the
fundi had come back met with the genuine African answer, “Bado”
(“Not yet”).
 BRAZIER

Some consolation was afforded me by a brassfounder, whom I

came across in the bush near Akundonde’s. This man is the favourite
of women, and therefore no doubt of the gods; he welds the glittering
brass rods purchased at the coast into those massive, heavy rings
which, on the wrists and ankles of the local fair ones, continually give
me fresh food for admiration. Like every decent master-craftsman he
had all his tools with him, consisting of a pair of bellows, three
crucibles and a hammer—nothing more, apparently. He was quite
willing to show his skill, and in a twinkling had fixed his bellows on
the ground. They are simply two goat-skins, taken off whole, the four
legs being closed by knots, while the upper opening, intended to
admit the air, is kept stretched by two pieces of wood. At the lower
end of the skin a smaller opening is left into which a wooden tube is
stuck. The fundi has quickly borrowed a heap of wood-embers from
the nearest hut; he then fixes the free ends of the two tubes into an
earthen pipe, and clamps them to the ground by means of a bent
piece of wood. Now he fills one of his small clay crucibles, the dross
on which shows that they have been long in use, with the yellow
material, places it in the midst of the embers, which, at present are
only faintly glimmering, and begins his work. In quick alternation
the smith’s two hands move up and down with the open ends of the
bellows; as he raises his hand he holds the slit wide open, so as to let
the air enter the skin bag unhindered. In pressing it down he closes
the bag, and the air puffs through the bamboo tube and clay pipe into
the fire, which quickly burns up. The smith, however, does not keep
on with this work, but beckons to another man, who relieves him at
the bellows, while he takes some more tools out of a large skin pouch
carried on his back. I look on in wonder as, with a smooth round
stick about the thickness of a finger, he bores a few vertical holes into
the clean sand of the soil. This should not be difficult, yet the man
seems to be taking great pains over it. Then he fastens down to the
ground, with a couple of wooden clamps, a neat little trough made by
splitting a joint of bamboo in half, so that the ends are closed by the
two knots. At last the yellow metal has attained the right consistency,
and the fundi lifts the crucible from the fire by means of two sticks
split at the end to serve as tongs. A short swift turn to the left—a
tilting of the crucible—and the molten brass, hissing and giving forth
clouds of smoke, flows first into the bamboo mould and then into the
holes in the ground.
The technique of this backwoods craftsman may not be very far
advanced, but it cannot be denied that he knows how to obtain an
adequate result by the simplest means. The ladies of highest rank in
this country—that is to say, those who can afford it, wear two kinds
of these massive brass rings, one cylindrical, the other semicircular
in section. The latter are cast in the most ingenious way in the
bamboo mould, the former in the circular hole in the sand. It is quite
a simple matter for the fundi to fit these bars to the limbs of his fair
customers; with a few light strokes of his hammer he bends the
pliable brass round arm or ankle without further inconvenience to
the wearer.
SHAPING THE POT

SMOOTHING WITH MAIZE-COB

CUTTING THE EDGE

 FINISHING THE BOTTOM

LAST SMOOTHING BEFORE

BURNING

FIRING THE BRUSH-PILE

 LIGHTING THE FARTHER SIDE OF
THE PILE

TURNING THE RED-HOT VESSEL

NYASA WOMAN MAKING POTS AT MASASI

Pottery is an art which must always and everywhere excite the
interest of the student, just because it is so intimately connected with
the development of human culture, and because its relics are one of
the principal factors in the reconstruction of our own condition in
prehistoric times. I shall always remember with pleasure the two or
three afternoons at Masasi when Salim Matola’s mother, a slightly-
built, graceful, pleasant-looking woman, explained to me with
touching patience, by means of concrete illustrations, the ceramic art
of her people. The only implements for this primitive process were a
lump of clay in her left hand, and in the right a calabash containing
the following valuables: the fragment of a maize-cob stripped of all
its grains, a smooth, oval pebble, about the size of a pigeon’s egg, a
few chips of gourd-shell, a bamboo splinter about the length of one’s
hand, a small shell, and a bunch of some herb resembling spinach.
 Nothing more. The woman scraped with the
shell a round, shallow hole in the soft, fine
sand of the soil, and, when an active young
girl had filled the calabash with water for her,
she began to knead the clay. As if by magic it
gradually assumed the shape of a rough but
already well-shaped vessel, which only wanted
a little touching up with the instruments
before mentioned. I looked out with the
MAKUA WOMAN closest attention for any indication of the use
MAKING A POT. of the potter’s wheel, in however rudimentary
SHOWS THE a form, but no—hapana (there is none). The
BEGINNINGS OF THE embryo pot stood firmly in its little
POTTER’S WHEEL
depression, and the woman walked round it in
a stooping posture, whether she was removing
small stones or similar foreign bodies with the maize-cob, smoothing
the inner or outer surface with the splinter of bamboo, or later, after
letting it dry for a day, pricking in the ornamentation with a pointed
bit of gourd-shell, or working out the bottom, or cutting the edge
with a sharp bamboo knife, or giving the last touches to the finished
vessel. This occupation of the women is infinitely toilsome, but it is
without doubt an accurate reproduction of the process in use among
our ancestors of the Neolithic and Bronze ages.
There is no doubt that the invention of pottery, an item in human
progress whose importance cannot be over-estimated, is due to
women. Rough, coarse and unfeeling, the men of the horde range
over the countryside. When the united cunning of the hunters has
succeeded in killing the game; not one of them thinks of carrying
home the spoil. A bright fire, kindled by a vigorous wielding of the
drill, is crackling beside them; the animal has been cleaned and cut
up secundum artem, and, after a slight singeing, will soon disappear
under their sharp teeth; no one all this time giving a single thought
to wife or child.
To what shifts, on the other hand, the primitive wife, and still more
the primitive mother, was put! Not even prehistoric stomachs could
endure an unvarying diet of raw food. Something or other suggested
the beneficial effect of hot water on the majority of approved but
indigestible dishes. Perhaps a neighbour had tried holding the hard
roots or tubers over the fire in a calabash filled with water—or maybe
an ostrich-egg-shell, or a hastily improvised vessel of bark. They
became much softer and more palatable than they had previously
been; but, unfortunately, the vessel could not stand the fire and got
charred on the outside. That can be remedied, thought our
ancestress, and plastered a layer of wet clay round a similar vessel.
This is an improvement; the cooking utensil remains uninjured, but
the heat of the fire has shrunk it, so that it is loose in its shell. The
next step is to detach it, so, with a firm grip and a jerk, shell and
kernel are separated, and pottery is invented. Perhaps, however, the
discovery which led to an intelligent use of the burnt-clay shell, was
made in a slightly different way. Ostrich-eggs and calabashes are not
to be found in every part of the world, but everywhere mankind has
arrived at the art of making baskets out of pliant materials, such as
bark, bast, strips of palm-leaf, supple twigs, etc. Our inventor has no
water-tight vessel provided by nature. “Never mind, let us line the
basket with clay.” This answers the purpose, but alas! the basket gets
burnt over the blazing fire, the woman watches the process of
cooking with increasing uneasiness, fearing a leak, but no leak
appears. The food, done to a turn, is eaten with peculiar relish; and
the cooking-vessel is examined, half in curiosity, half in satisfaction
at the result. The plastic clay is now hard as stone, and at the same
time looks exceedingly well, for the neat plaiting of the burnt basket
is traced all over it in a pretty pattern. Thus, simultaneously with
pottery, its ornamentation was invented.
Primitive woman has another claim to respect. It was the man,
roving abroad, who invented the art of producing fire at will, but the
woman, unable to imitate him in this, has been a Vestal from the
earliest times. Nothing gives so much trouble as the keeping alight of
the smouldering brand, and, above all, when all the men are absent
from the camp. Heavy rain-clouds gather, already the first large
drops are falling, the first gusts of the storm rage over the plain. The
little flame, a greater anxiety to the woman than her own children,
flickers unsteadily in the blast. What is to be done? A sudden thought
occurs to her, and in an instant she has constructed a primitive hut
out of strips of bark, to protect the flame against rain and wind.
This, or something very like it, was the way in which the principle
of the house was discovered; and even the most hardened misogynist
cannot fairly refuse a woman the credit of it. The protection of the
hearth-fire from the weather is the germ from which the human
dwelling was evolved. Men had little, if any share, in this forward
step, and that only at a late stage. Even at the present day, the
plastering of the housewall with clay and the manufacture of pottery
are exclusively the women’s business. These are two very significant
survivals. Our European kitchen-garden, too, is originally a woman’s
invention, and the hoe, the primitive instrument of agriculture, is,
characteristically enough, still used in this department. But the
noblest achievement which we owe to the other sex is unquestionably
the art of cookery. Roasting alone—the oldest process—is one for
which men took the hint (a very obvious one) from nature. It must
have been suggested by the scorched carcase of some animal
overtaken by the destructive forest-fires. But boiling—the process of
improving organic substances by the help of water heated to boiling-
point—is a much later discovery. It is so recent that it has not even
yet penetrated to all parts of the world. The Polynesians understand
how to steam food, that is, to cook it, neatly wrapped in leaves, in a
hole in the earth between hot stones, the air being excluded, and
(sometimes) a few drops of water sprinkled on the stones; but they
do not understand boiling.
To come back from this digression, we find that the slender Nyasa
woman has, after once more carefully examining the finished pot,
put it aside in the shade to dry. On the following day she sends me
word by her son, Salim Matola, who is always on hand, that she is
going to do the burning, and, on coming out of my house, I find her
already hard at work. She has spread on the ground a layer of very
dry sticks, about as thick as one’s thumb, has laid the pot (now of a
yellowish-grey colour) on them, and is piling brushwood round it.
My faithful Pesa mbili, the mnyampara, who has been standing by,
most obligingly, with a lighted stick, now hands it to her. Both of
them, blowing steadily, light the pile on the lee side, and, when the
flame begins to catch, on the weather side also. Soon the whole is in a
blaze, but the dry fuel is quickly consumed and the fire dies down, so
that we see the red-hot vessel rising from the ashes. The woman
turns it continually with a long stick, sometimes one way and
sometimes another, so that it may be evenly heated all over. In
twenty minutes she rolls it out of the ash-heap, takes up the bundle
of spinach, which has been lying for two days in a jar of water, and
sprinkles the red-hot clay with it. The places where the drops fall are
marked by black spots on the uniform reddish-brown surface. With a
sigh of relief, and with visible satisfaction, the woman rises to an
erect position; she is standing just in a line between me and the fire,
from which a cloud of smoke is just rising: I press the ball of my
camera, the shutter clicks—the apotheosis is achieved! Like a
priestess, representative of her inventive sex, the graceful woman
stands: at her feet the hearth-fire she has given us beside her the
invention she has devised for us, in the background the home she has
built for us.
At Newala, also, I have had the manufacture of pottery carried on
in my presence. Technically the process is better than that already
described, for here we find the beginnings of the potter’s wheel,
which does not seem to exist in the plains; at least I have seen
nothing of the sort. The artist, a frightfully stupid Makua woman, did
not make a depression in the ground to receive the pot she was about
to shape, but used instead a large potsherd. Otherwise, she went to
work in much the same way as Salim’s mother, except that she saved
herself the trouble of walking round and round her work by squatting
at her ease and letting the pot and potsherd rotate round her; this is
surely the first step towards a machine. But it does not follow that
the pot was improved by the process. It is true that it was beautifully
rounded and presented a very creditable appearance when finished,
but the numerous large and small vessels which I have seen, and, in
part, collected, in the “less advanced” districts, are no less so. We
moderns imagine that instruments of precision are necessary to
produce excellent results. Go to the prehistoric collections of our
museums and look at the pots, urns and bowls of our ancestors in the
dim ages of the past, and you will at once perceive your error.
MAKING LONGITUDINAL CUT IN
BARK

DRAWING THE BARK OFF THE LOG

REMOVING THE OUTER BARK

 BEATING THE BARK

WORKING THE BARK-CLOTH AFTER BEATING, TO MAKE IT

SOFT

MANUFACTURE OF BARK-CLOTH AT NEWALA

To-day, nearly the whole population of German East Africa is
clothed in imported calico. This was not always the case; even now in
some parts of the north dressed skins are still the prevailing wear,
and in the north-western districts—east and north of Lake
Tanganyika—lies a zone where bark-cloth has not yet been
superseded. Probably not many generations have passed since such
bark fabrics and kilts of skins were the only clothing even in the
south. Even to-day, large quantities of this bright-red or drab
material are still to be found; but if we wish to see it, we must look in
the granaries and on the drying stages inside the native huts, where
it serves less ambitious uses as wrappings for those seeds and fruits
which require to be packed with special care. The salt produced at
Masasi, too, is packed for transport to a distance in large sheets of
bark-cloth. Wherever I found it in any degree possible, I studied the
process of making this cloth. The native requisitioned for the
purpose arrived, carrying a log between two and three yards long and
as thick as his thigh, and nothing else except a curiously-shaped
mallet and the usual long, sharp and pointed knife which all men and
boys wear in a belt at their backs without a sheath—horribile dictu!
[51]
Silently he squats down before me, and with two rapid cuts has
drawn a couple of circles round the log some two yards apart, and
slits the bark lengthwise between them with the point of his knife.
With evident care, he then scrapes off the outer rind all round the
log, so that in a quarter of an hour the inner red layer of the bark
shows up brightly-coloured between the two untouched ends. With
some trouble and much caution, he now loosens the bark at one end,
and opens the cylinder. He then stands up, takes hold of the free
edge with both hands, and turning it inside out, slowly but steadily
pulls it off in one piece. Now comes the troublesome work of
scraping all superfluous particles of outer bark from the outside of
the long, narrow piece of material, while the inner side is carefully
scrutinised for defective spots. At last it is ready for beating. Having
signalled to a friend, who immediately places a bowl of water beside
him, the artificer damps his sheet of bark all over, seizes his mallet,
lays one end of the stuff on the smoothest spot of the log, and
hammers away slowly but continuously. “Very simple!” I think to
myself. “Why, I could do that, too!”—but I am forced to change my
opinions a little later on; for the beating is quite an art, if the fabric is
not to be beaten to pieces. To prevent the breaking of the fibres, the
stuff is several times folded across, so as to interpose several
thicknesses between the mallet and the block. At last the required
state is reached, and the fundi seizes the sheet, still folded, by both
ends, and wrings it out, or calls an assistant to take one end while he
holds the other. The cloth produced in this way is not nearly so fine
and uniform in texture as the famous Uganda bark-cloth, but it is
quite soft, and, above all, cheap.
Now, too, I examine the mallet. My craftsman has been using the
simpler but better form of this implement, a conical block of some
hard wood, its base—the striking surface—being scored across and
across with more or less deeply-cut grooves, and the handle stuck
into a hole in the middle. The other and earlier form of mallet is
shaped in the same way, but the head is fastened by an ingenious
network of bark strips into the split bamboo serving as a handle. The
observation so often made, that ancient customs persist longest in
connection with religious ceremonies and in the life of children, here
finds confirmation. As we shall soon see, bark-cloth is still worn
during the unyago,[52] having been prepared with special solemn
ceremonies; and many a mother, if she has no other garment handy,
will still put her little one into a kilt of bark-cloth, which, after all,
looks better, besides being more in keeping with its African
surroundings, than the ridiculous bit of print from Ulaya.
MAKUA WOMEN