What accounts for this bias in participation studies? It has to do in part with the ease of collecting information from educational institutions; in part it is due to adult learners themselves not recognizing the informal learning embedded in their everyday lives. And certainly the bias in part has to do with policy and funding. Although the field is proud of its service orientation and the voluntary nature of participation, in reality what is offered cannot be uncoupled from the question of who finances the various adult learning opportunities. And the answer to this question of who finances adult education is easier to find in reference to formal adult education.
In North America, there are many providers of formal learning opportunities, including government at all levels, employers, educational institutions, and community institutions such as libraries. Because much of the expenditure for this form of learning is hidden under a variety of budgetary labels—at one time more than 270 federal programs alone had some adult learning component (Griffith & Fujita-Starck, 1989)—it is difficult to measure the relative financial power of various providers.
To complicate the matter, what is offered at any particular time “will almost inevitably relate to the pressures generated in the social system. Social pressures act in such a manner as to create an imbalance in the system to which institutions, other than that generating pressure, respond by seeking to restore the system to some form of equilibrium” (Jarvis, 1986, p. 57). Institutions are currently being pressured to respond to the issues of an increasingly diverse workforce, technological obsolescence, and health threats such as obesity. This notion of mobilizing institutions in the service of maintaining social equilibrium is but one explanation for the shifts in curriculum emphasis.
Crowther (2000) points out that it could be argued that the monopoly of formal adult education is being challenged “by developments in experiential learning, the growth of new educational technologies, distance learning and procedures such as the accreditation of prior learning” (p. 485). He goes on to ask, “Are these not examples of a more democratic, pluralistic, learning process which both facilitates access and disperses control over the curriculum?” (p. 485). However, these mechanisms of dealing with and recognizing informal experiential learning can also be seen as “reaffirming, rather than undermining, the dominant assumptions about control over definitions of educationally relevant knowledge” (p. 485). In other words, when the recognition of informal learning is tied to the formal system as in accreditation of prior learning, control still rests with the system that has predetermined what counts as learning. That the formal system will serve its own interests is underscored by an interesting article in Training & Development about “free agent learners” (Caudron, 1999). Acknowledging the rise of employees learning on their own, Caudron warns that “companies have to be willing to accept the new ideas such employees are bringing to work” and that “free agent learners threaten corporate governance because the more that people learn, the more competent and confident they become” (p. 30). Speaking of the skills and competencies needed for the twenty-first century, Xanthoudaki (2015) observes that today's learners “decide what and how to learn, emerging as expert in their own right. This is not because we suddenly recognize the value of personalized learning, but because it seems to be the only way to face change.” Indeed, “opportunities for personalized, self-motivated education move away from the model of learning organized around stable, usually hierarchical institutions” (p. 249).
Participation equals formal learning because of ease of measurement but also because the formal system controls what gets “counted” as adult education. In a pluralistic society such as ours, there is no single answer to the question of who decides what learning opportunities to offer. The field is indeed complex with “demographic changes, globalization, and the intertwined explosion of technology and information” all contributing to the “expansion of adult education” in terms of providers, learners, and sites of learning (Ross-Gordon, Rose, & Kasworm, 2017, p. 27). In reality, for formal learning programs at least, decisions are made by those who pay—whether that means the learners themselves, government, employers, or educational institutions. And those who pay are in positions of power to determine which social pressures will be addressed and how those responses will be structured. Those not in positions of power rarely decide what learning opportunities are offered. Their role is limited to deciding whether to participate.
Learners Are Abstract, Not Socialized, Individuals
As we have already noted in this chapter, the predominant view of adult learner participation is through the lens of individual learners who have chosen to participate in a learning activity. Much of the discourse on participation explains nonparticipation from an individual deficit stance—that is, there is something wrong with or deficient about nonparticipants or they would be clamoring to be in our adult education programs. Further, these nonparticipants are probably most in need of what adult education has to offer.
This discourse fails to take into account the sociocultural context of adult learners and the structural characteristics of the adult education enterprise itself. Although we have addressed some of these factors in the preceding section, “Adding a Sociological Lens to Explanations of Participation,” there is more that can be said about this major misconception about participation.
The democratic ideals of equal opportunity and open access make the current reality of uneven and unequal participation in formal adult learning particularly worrisome to some policymakers, educators, and researchers. Most explanations focus on a person's stated reasons for nonparticipation, such as cost, time, transportation, and lack of confidence. When viewed from a social perspective, other explanations emerge. Rubenson (1989, p. 64) argues, for example, that “through socialization within the family, the school, and, later on, in working life, a positive disposition towards adult education becomes a part of some group's habitus but not of others.”
Those adults who have been socialized into valuing and acquiring the attitudes and skills of the middle class will be the ones to take advantage of learning opportunities. Because most providers of such opportunities are themselves middle class, little effort is expended trying to understand and provide for other populations. The modus operandi of most providers is to offer a set of activities that they assume learners will want. A response, however, is predicated on the assumptions that learners know about the program, can attend at the time it is offered, and can afford it; that the subculture of the institution is conducive to their own; and that what is offered corresponds with what they need. Rubenson (1989, p. 65) argues that “a system of adult education that implicitly takes for granted that the adult is a conscious, self-directed individual in possession of the instruments vital to making use of the available possibilities for adult education—a system that relies on self-selection to recruit the participants—will by necessity widen, not narrow, the educational and cultural gaps in society.”
There are other reasons why certain adults have more access to learning opportunities than other adults. Where one happens to live; what one's primary language is; what color, age, or sex one happens to be; what one does for a living and level of educational attainment (Boeren & Holford, 2016; Boyadjieva & Illieva-Trichkova, 2017; Patterson, 2018) all contribute to the participation pattern in adult education. Cropley (1989, p. 146) calls these factors “framework conditions,” which “are largely a function of the circumstances in which people live, especially of factors such as the values, attitudes, habits, priorities and the like of the social groups to which they belong, the economic structure of their society, even features of the education system itself.” The result is that “some individuals are more equal than others in the choices available to them” (p. 146).
By way of illustrating how these framework conditions can determine who is more likely to benefit from adult learning opportunities, where and how one lives make a difference. It is common knowledge that there is less accessibility in rural areas than in urban or suburban centers. The picture is a bit more complicated than just a rural-urban split, however. Those in small-town rural areas are better off than those living in isolated areas, and some urban centers are as impoverished as the most rural areas. Worldwide, access to learning opportunities in rural areas is a problem at all levels of education. Further, there are those who lack a geographical