(20th in my logic of competence series.)
Modelling competence is too far removed from common experience to be intuitive. So I’ve been thinking of what analogy might help. How about the analogy of tourism? This may help particularly with understanding the duality between competence frameworks (like tourist itineraries) and competence concept definitions (like tourist destinations).
The analogy is helped by the fact that last week I was in Lisbon for the first time, at work (the CEN WS-LT and TC 353), but also more relevantly as a tourist. (If you don’t know Lisbon, think of examples to suit your own chosen place to visit, that you know better.) I’ll start with the aspects of the analogy that seem to be most straightforward, and go on to more subtle features.
First things first, then: a tourist itinerary includes a list of destinations. This can be formalised as a guided tour, or left informal as a “things you should see” list given by a friend who has been there. A destination can be in any number of itineraries, or none. An itinerary has to include some destinations, but in principle it doesn’t have any upper limits: it could be a very detailed itinerary that takes a year to properly acquaint a newcomer with the ins and outs of the city. Different itineraries for the same place may have more, or fewer, destinations within that place. They may or may not agree on the destinations included. If there were destinations included by the large majority of guides, another guide could select these as the “essential” Lisbon or wherever. In this case, perhaps that would include visiting the Belem tower; the Castle of St George; Sintra; experiencing Fado; sampling the local food, particularly fish dishes; and a ride on one of the funicular trams that climb the steep hills. Or maybe not, in each case. There again, you could debate whether Sintra should be included in a guide to Lisbon, or just mentioned as a day trip.
A small itinerary could be made for a single destination, if desired. Some guides may just point you to a museum or destination as a whole; others may give detailed suggestions for what you should see within that destination. A cursory guide might say that you should visit Sintra; a detailed one might say that you really must visit the Castle of the Moors in Sintra, as well as other particular places in Sintra. A very detailed guide might direct you to particular things to see in the Castle of the Moors itself.
It should be clear from the above discussion that a place to visit should not be confused with an itinerary for that place. Any real place has an unlimited number of possible itineraries for it. An itinerary for a city may include a museum; an itinerary for a museum may include a painting; there may sometimes even be guides to a painting that direct the viewer to particular features of that painting. The guide to the painting is not the painting; the guide to the museum is not the museum; the guide to the city is not the city.
There might also be guides that do not propose particular itineraries, but list many places you might go, and you select yourself. In these cases, some kind of categorisation might be used to help you select the places of interest to you. What period of history do they come from? Are they busy or quiet? What do they cost? How long do they take to visit? Or a guide with itineraries may also categorise attractions, and make them explicitly optional. Optionality might be particularly helpful in guided tours, so that people can leave out things of less interest.
If a set of guides covered several whole places, not just one, it may make comparisons across the different places. If you liked the Cathar castles in the South of France, you may like the Castle of the Moors in Sintra. Those who like stately homes, on the other hand, may be given other suggestions.
A guide to a destination may also contain more than an itinerary of included destinations within it. A guidebook may give historical or cultural background information, which goes beyond the description of the destinations. Guides may also propose a visit sequence, which is not inherent in the destinations.
The features I have described above are reasonably replicated in discussion of competence. A guide or itinerary corresponds to a competence framework; a destination corresponds to a competence concept. This is largely intended to throw further light on what I discussed in number 12 in this series, Representing the interplay between competence definitions and structures.
One difference is that tourist destinations have independent existence in the physical world, whereas competence concepts do not. It may therefore be easier to understand what is being referred to in a guide book, from a short description, than in a competence framework. Both guide book and competence framework may rely on context. When a guide book says “the entrance”, you know it means the entrance to the location you are reading about, or may be visiting.
Physical embodiment brings clarity and constraints. Smaller places may be located within larger places, and this is relatively clear. But it is less clear whether lesser competence concepts are part of greater competence concepts. What one can say (and this carries through from the tourism analogy) is that concepts are included in frameworks (or not), and that any concept may be detailed by (any number of) frameworks.
Competence frameworks and concepts are more dependent on the words used in description, and because a description necessarily chooses particular words, it is easy to confuse the concept with the framework if they use the same words. It is easy to use the words of a descriptive framework to describe a concept. It is not so common, though perfectly possible, to use the description of an itinerary as a description of a place. It is because of this greater dependence on words (compared with tourist guides) that it may be more necessary to clarify the context of a competence concept definition, in order to understand what it actually means.
Where the analogy with competence breaks down more seriously is that high stakes decisions rarely depend on exactly where someone has visited. But at a stretch of the imagination, they could: recruitment for a relief tour guide could depend on having visited all of a given set of destinations, and being able to answer questions about them. What high stakes promotes is the sense that a particular structure (as defined or adopted by the body controlling the high-stakes decisions) defines a particular competence concept. Despite that, I assert that the competence structure and the separate competence concept remain strictly separate kinds of thing.
Understanding the logic of competence through this analogy
The features of competence models that are illustrated here are these.
- Competence frameworks or structures may include relevant competence concepts, as well as other material. (See № 12.)
- Competence concept definitions may be detailed by a framework structure for that competence concept. Nevertheless the structure does not fully define the concept. (See № 12 and № 13.)
- Competence frameworks may include optional competences (as well as necessary or mandatory ones). (See № 15 and № 7.)
- Both frameworks and concepts may be categorised. (See also № 5.)
- Frameworks may contain sub-frameworks (just as itineraries may contain sub-itineraries).
- But frameworks don’t contain concepts in the same way: they just include them (or not).
- A framework may be simply an unstructured list of defined concepts.
I hope that helps anyone to understand more of the logic of competence, and I hope that also helps InLOC colleagues come to consensus on the related matters.