Why Dyslexia is NOT a Reading Disability
(November, ’23)
My predecessor at the London Language and Literacy Unit (LLU+), based then at Southbank University, was Cynthia Klein (2000). I remember having a conversation with her about 25 years ago. She had recently met with Prof. Maggie Snowling and been given some advice. Prof. Snowling cautioned Cynthia to avoid talking about dyslexic strengths, since these were merely anecdotal and in promoting them, would discredit her own work. Cynthia failed to take that advice. I suspect, among other things, this is because she worked with adults and it is impossible to work with dyslexic adults without recognising the consistent patterns of our experiences. There has been much water under the bridge since then and it is now common knowledge that dyslexia presents patterns of strengths as well as difficulties. But this has made very little difference to the way children are treated by our education systems, even if it has, to some degree, for adults.
Of course there have been some landmark changes in awareness, not least of which is the recognition of ‘dyslexic thinking’ as a strength...
The dictionary definition being,: “ An approach to problem-solving,
assessing information, and learning, often used by people with dyslexia,
that involves pattern recognition, spatial reasoning, lateral thinking,
and interpersonal communication.” Dictionary.com
It is fairly elementary to recognise that dyslexic thinking, problem
solving, and creativity depend on the way we make meaning. And our
dyslexic strategies appear to be true for almost all forms of
neurodivergence. Meaning, for us, arises in the recognition of patterns.
We seek out the big picture, because without it, all we have is a string
of disconnected ‘facts’. There is no meaning in identifying them in
isolation. We need to see how they interconnect and relate to each
other. Our problem solving and creativity is launched from this context.
We try to avoid getting bogged down in detail until we see the whole. We
are essentially holistic learners, usually mediated through visual
thinking. It is only after we can see the big picture, that details can
be meaningfully identified or re-arranged within the patterns. This view
is no longer particularly contentious, but few educators or policy
makers appear to understand the implications.
Difficulty with learning to read has, historically, been a hallmark of
being dyslexic. When academics in the USA failed to agree on definitions
of dyslexia, many tried to simplify the issue by defining dyslexia as a
‘reading disability’, as if dyslexia and reading difficulties are
synonymous (e.g. Vellutino et al, 2004). This merging of concepts fails,
of course, to have a reasonable explanation for the strengths of
dyslexia, but until the strengths were recognised, this was not an
issue. However, the concept of dyslexia ‘as a reading disability’ has
become entrenched in Western education systems, and in the so-called
‘science of reading’.
In the UK, the reading wars led to the development of the ‘simple view
of reading’ championed by Sir Jim Rose (2006) who concluded that
children needed systematic synthetic phonics and nothing but systematic
synthetic phonics until the child had acquired all the rules of phonics
required to decode English words. Interestingly, The Rose Review (2009)
was based on a commissioned research paper undertaken by Chris Singleton
which recognised the limitations of a diet of phonics. Rose refers to it
in his review.
“However, as with the early intervention studies, even the most
effective intervention programmes (based on systematic synthetic
phonics) do not lead to significant reading gains for all participating
children and depending on the reading skills measured, from 15 to 60% of
older pupils with dyslexia may fail to respond.” (Rose, J., 2009,
p69)
Curiously, rather than look for a different approach that they would
respond to, the belief in phonics was so ideologically fixed, that the
only solution offered for this impasse, was even more phonics.
So let us consider what alternative approaches might suit us better, and
why phonics remains so difficult for many of us. We have already noted
that a dyslexic approach to learning is to start by discovering the big
picture. When reading, this involves identifying why we are reading,
what the book, overall, is about. Previewing is a good holistic
strategy. We want to raise our prior knowledge - how does this book fit
with what we already know, and how does it differ? What do I want to
find out? These are strategies to which we can relate, that make sense
to us. If we wish to succeed, we always start from the top down, not
from the bottom up.
Of course, decoding single letters and combinations of letters without
that big picture, is evidently starting from the bottom up- starting
with the detail before we can make any sense of anything. Starting with
the detail and decoding requires something else- a good working memory.
Most neurodivergent people, by definition, have very limited working
memory. Consequently, even if we manage to decode (which places a heavy
burden on working memory), we often struggle to bring meaning to what we
have read because during the decoding process, details in the sequential
process have been lost. On top of which, in order to learn to decode
English, with its notoriously irregular spelling, we are required to
learn lots of rules. Now rules, as any dyslexic will tell you, are only
’rules’ because there is no reason for them. If there is no reason (or
meaning) we struggle to remember them. The consequence of this dry diet
of phonics is a large number of dyslexic readers who may learn to bark
at print (more or less) but with a limited capacity to understand or
retain what they read. Consequently, I would argue that phonics, while
helpful in part, should be left behind as soon as possible for dyslexic
readers, like training wheels on a bicycle (as Prof Rod Nicholson said
to me during a phone call), so that they can approach reading in a more
meaningful and holistic way.
Interestingly, Sir Rose agreed with me, in a meeting in 2010, that
restricting the teaching of reading through systematic synthetic phonics
is pointless with adults, because they already employ a wide range of
other (and more holistic) strategies which cannot be eliminated. I
remain puzzled why he did not also recognise that children do too.
Consequently, this is like forcing all children to be right handed. If
your measure of success is by how well a child writes with their right
hand, you can count the forced handwriting a ‘scientific success’, and
have the ‘data’ to ‘prove’ it. We can imagine in this scenario, many
left handed children becoming better at using their right hand, but
unlikely to ever be as ‘dextrous’ as the right handers. We might then
start to believe that we have discovered ‘right hand disability’ as the
problem, rather than simply recognise that we are left handed. As a left
handed dyslexic, this is an experience I know all too well.
Bad science is barely science at all. The answers science can produce
depends firstly on the questions we ask. I am not interested in whether
someone can or cannot decode words. By decode, I mean pronounce words. I
am interested in whether someone can understand the words, and the
simple truth is that the most direct route to understanding is through
visual recognition. In Maryanne Wolfe’s Proust and The Squid (2007), she
describes the process of reading over a period of milliseconds. One of
those scientific observations is that readers understand the words they
read before they decode them (say or sub-vocalise them). This really
should have informed researchers that phonics is secondary, but no-one
seemed to notice this discrepancy in the theory and practice of
reading.
With Visual Reading, we recognise that accurate perception through
accurate saccades dramatically improves the ability of the reader to
visually recognise the meaning of words. By enabling the reader to
absorb the meaning of 5 to 6 words at once, not only is speed of reading
dramatically improved, but so is comprehension. On average, it takes us
5 weeks to take a struggling dyslexic reader, and turn them into reading
experts. 73% are in the top 0.01% of postgraduate readers. This would
simply not be possible if dyslexia was a reading disability. It is,
rather, a teaching disability. One of our students said it rather
eloquently. She had been struggling with her course reading. She read at
140 words per minute (wpm) with poor comprehension and recall. Five
weeks later, her reading was transformed: “I can now read 600 words per
minute. It’s completely re-trained my brain to read at another level as
well as build my confidence and enjoyment with reading…. I now realise
dyslexia is not a permanent reading disability, it just requires the
correct teaching.”
I am reminded of the well known and over used phrase- “if they can’t
learn the way we teach, we should teach the way they learn”. The problem
seems to be that educators ignore the way we learn so as to conform to
their ideological dogma. It would be particularly helpful in this
context to remember that science is intended to explain our experiences,
not to deny them; to inform practice, not prevent it.
References
Klein, C., & Morgan, E., (2000), Dyslexic Adult in a Non-Dyslexia World,
John Wiley & Sons,
Rose, J. (2006). Independent review of the teaching of early reading
final report. U.K. Department for Education and Skills. Retrieved
from http://dera.ioe.ac.uk/5551/2/report.pdf
Rose, J. (2009), Review of Dyslexia (Identifying and Teaching Children
and Young People with Dyslexia and Literacy Difficulties, Dept. Of
Children, Schools and Families, UK
Vellutino,F., Fletcher, J., Snowling, M.,Scanlon, D.,Specific reading
disability (dyslexia): what have we learned in the past four decades?
Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 45:1 (2004), pp 2–40
Wolfe, M., (2007), Proust and the Squid, Harper Collins.