read the following chapters from your textbook, and refer to the
Research Proposal Project
final assignment as a reference in gain an understanding of what research problem might be most appropriate.
- Chapter 1: The Nature and Tools of Research
Pages 1-9, 19-27
- Chapter 2: The Problem: The Heart of the Research Process
- Chapter 3: Review of the Related Literature
- Chapter 4: Planning Your Research Project
In addition, watch
Creating a Research Question (Links to an external site.)
and
What Is research? (Links to an external site.)
Select a human/social service organization, which can be where you are currently employed, or where you would have an interest in gaining future employment. You will use this organization and research problem as the basis of your final Research Proposal Project.
Chapters 1 to 4 of the Leedy and Ormrod text will help guide you as decide what the problem is that you would like to propose to evaluate, what literature is going to be most appropriate for this proposal, and how to plan with the proposal. The chapters will guide you on how to construct and write the research proposal. It is important to select your research problem carefully. The following considerations should be addressed in the assignment:
- How do you know when you have a legitimate research problem?
- How would you delineate the subparts of the social problem for your research project?
- How did you make your determinations and what were the details of the determination process?
- How would you plan for such a research process?
- How do your tentative research question(s) apply to your final project?
two to three double-spaced pages in length
Accurate Plagiarism free
“unlimited number of possibilities for creative thinking. For exam-ple, have you ever been in a situation in which someone said,‘‘We’re spinning our wheels,’’ yet in the process something newand interesting emerged? What was that about? Conversely, haveyou ever participated in something that was highly planful, inwhich a very specific set of goals and objectives was guidingthe effort, but it simply did not work no matter how close onestuck to the plan? In the former situation, ‘‘spinning our wheels’’is a metaphor for going in circles. In the process new ideas wereemerging even though it felt redundant and unfocused. In the lattersituation, having a detailed plan and placing it over a changingcontext might have meant that no one (no matter how skilled) couldhave preidentified how things would unfold. The program plan-ning process unfolds in different ways, depending on its uniquecontext. Oneapproachdoes not fit all situations. We believe that bothare useful and that the skilled practitioner must learn when to usedifferent approaches. Both can be based on evidence in a world thatis smitten with evidence-based practice. As you will see, the evi-dence used may be somewhat different in what, where, and whendata are collected and analyzed.Over a period of years a case management project was funded bya large private foundation. A health administrator, a social worker, aphysician, and a nurse collaborated in responding to the request forproposals (RFP) to evaluate the project. There were eight project sitesaround the country, all of which had received funding to implementtheir case management interventions in physician practices in theirrespective locations. Each site was embedded in highly respectedhealth care systems with dedicated, competent staff. The evaluationteam began traveling to each site to assess these projects—each de-signed within its specific contexts. Each had measurable objectives,and on paper every project looked feasible. However, given localpreferences, different practitioners performed case management”
“Some were nurses, others were social workers, some were physicianassistants, still others were nurse practitioners, and some had mixeddisciplinary teams. Every site used a different assessment tool, basedon the current instruments used in its health care environment.The work location of the case managers were different, given thatsome were colocated in physician offices, others were in adjacentbuildings, and still others were in acentral location from which theymoved between physician offices on aregular basis. As the evaluationteam interviewed various participants in these projects, it becameincreasingly clear that the projects were ‘‘apples and oranges,’’ andthe interventions were not the same, even though all were doing casemanagement. Each project had its own culture, structure, and normsof intervention.The team recognized that each project had to be evaluatedbased on its own objectives, not the overall objectives of the foun-dation because the projects were really not comparable. This wasfine; but what they soon realized was that each project had its ownchallenges. A few were moving toward their objectives in whatseemed to be a consistent way; however, the majority of sites werein constant flux given the changingnatureofthehealthcarefield.Staff came and went; physician practices merged; patients’ needsshifted; interorganizational relationships changed—and on andon. Original objectives became obsolete as project needs altered.Further, patient input during the intervention revealed a wholeset of needs that had not been originally identified. Yet the foun-dation held the projects accountable to the original plans they hadproposed in their grant applications because that was what theprojects had contracted to do. The evaluation team had difficultyremaining detached. In fact, every time the team made a visitand asked questions, new issues and concerns emerged abouthow a project had or needed to change to make it responsive”
“In this example, very well-written plans were still on file in thefoundation offices, but many of them had become obsolete in theprocess of implementation. Being tied to these plans became adilemma for staff and for the evaluation team. Without the latitudeto change in midstream, it became clear to the evaluation team thatthese projects were propelling forward, actually ‘‘doing’’ thingsdifferently but ‘‘pretending’’ that the plans they had submittedwere what they were carrying out. How many times have practi-tioners found themselves in situations where they remain tetheredto obsolete plans because the plans did not allow for flexibility?How many times do experts write plans that do not consider clientneeds or the views of various stakeholders, feasibility, or context?How often do program coordinators inherit plans that look logicalon paper only to find that they do not hold up in ‘‘real life?’’ Howoften do funders require a particular format that demands up-frontoutcomeswhen the ‘‘real’’ outcomes have to emerge in process? Ifany of these questions ring a bell with you, then you may find whatfollows to be useful.LINES AND CIRCLES AS PLANNING METAPHORSSome scientific thought distinguishes no difference between aline and a circle. This is supported by the idea that if you makethe line long enough, it ultimately becomes a circle. Senge assertsthat, ‘‘Reality is made up of circles but we see straight lines’’ (1990,p. 71). In this book we are concerned with lines and circles and whatthey have to do with how one thinks about and does programplanning.Metaphorically, lines and circles conjure up different images.Being linear includes moving in a concerted direction: upward,downward, backward, forward, or sideways. Circles also havedirectionality, but they go round and round, reconnecting “
“In this example, very well-written plans were still on file in thefoundation offices, but many of them had become obsolete in theprocess of implementation. Being tied to these plans became adilemma for staff and for the evaluation team. Without the latitudeto change in midstream, it became clear to the evaluation team thatthese projects were propelling forward, actually ‘‘doing’’ thingsdifferently but ‘‘pretending’’ that the plans they had submittedwere what they were carrying out. How many times have practi-tioners found themselves in situations where they remain tetheredto obsolete plans because the plans did not allow for flexibility?How many times do experts write plans that do not consider clientneeds or the views of various stakeholders, feasibility, or context?How often do program coordinators inherit plans that look logicalon paper only to find that they do not hold up in ‘‘real life?’’ Howoften do funders require a particular format that demands up-frontoutcomeswhen the ‘‘real’’ outcomes have to emerge in process? Ifany of these questions ring a bell with you, then you may find whatfollows to be useful.LINES AND CIRCLES AS PLANNING METAPHORSSome scientific thought distinguishes no difference between aline and a circle. This is supported by the idea that if you makethe line long enough, it ultimately becomes a circle. Senge assertsthat, ‘‘Reality is made up of circles but we see straight lines’’ (1990,p. 71). In this book we are concerned with lines and circles and whatthey have to do with how one thinks about and does programplanning.Metaphorically, lines and circles conjure up different images.Being linear includes moving in a concerted direction: upward,downward, backward, forward, or sideways. Circles also havedirectionality, but they go round and round, reconnecting ”
“Now hold your breath a moment because we are going to takeyou on a brief but complicated historical journey. When you comeup for air we hope you have a deeper understanding of how linesbecame privileged over circles. You will see differences between aline and a circle when it comes to planning, the costs and benefits ofdeduction and induction, and rational and nonrational thought.This will also lead to distinguishing differences between nonra-tional andirrational thoughtapproaches and identification of whenrational or nonrational approaches to problem-solving will bestserve your needs. If there is bias in our presentation, it is that bothrational and nonrational approaches need to be privileged in orderto skillfully plan quality programs.A Brief History of Lines and CirclesScience and ReasonAs early as the 1700s, debates raged about human nature and thedevelopment of knowledge. Philosophers known asContinentalRationaliststook the position that what is known about nature couldbe reasoned by using one’s intelligence, while other philosophers,British Empiricists, took the position that knowledge about theenvironment came from experience, or sense data. Philosopherssuch as Locke, Berkley, and Hume struggled with ideas about whatconstituted science. Was it based on physics and mathematics, ordid the true basis of scientific knowledge rest on empirical verifi-cation rather than personal experience?At the turn of the twentieth century, the Vienna Circle compos-ed of scientific thinkers like Schlick, Hahn, Carnap, Ayers, andWittgenstein extended the thinking of the early empiricists ininfluencing the development oflogical empiricismandlogical positiv-ism. Logical empiricism asserted that the true basis of knowledgerests in empirical or evidence-based verification rather than on”
“personal experience. The Logical Positivists believed that the task ofscience is to clarify basic concepts, rejecting the abstractions ofmetaphysics and meaning in favor of findings grounded on empiri-cal evidence. Keys to this position are familiar aspects of thenaturalsciences: logic, methodology, and validation procedures.Thanks to Comte and other Positivists active in the nineteenthand the early twentieth centuries, these methods were transferredalmost without question (for an exception, see the life work of KarlPopper) and applied to human agency, later known as social sci-ence. It was Comte inThe Positive Philosophy(1855, trans 1974)who first coined the term ‘‘sociology’’ and saw it as being the mostcomplex of sciences, a naturalistic one that can both explain the pastdevelopment of humankind and predict its future course. With this,the application of positivist ideals to social phenomena was almostcomplete. The belief that all true human knowledge is containedwithin the boundaries of science became the accepted norm inWestern thought. Humanity was to be studied in the same scientificmanner as the world of nature, through observations, developmentof hypotheses, and experimentation.Induction, defined as making inferences of a generalized naturefrom particular instances, became the preferred method of consol-idating the observational link between science and reality, not onlyfor the natural, but also for the social sciences. This is in contrast todeduction, a method by which knowledge, inductively generated,is applied to situations not yet observed. Induction, going from thegeneral to the specific, became preferred over deduction, goingfrom the specific to the general.Embedded in this philosophy about what constitutes science, in-cluding the study of human nature, is the assumption of the role ofreasonin human behavior and human understanding. For the mostpart, the Empiricists and Positivists were also Rationalists who,according to Fay (1996) explain human actions by providing the”
“personal experience. The Logical Positivists believed that the task ofscience is to clarify basic concepts, rejecting the abstractions ofmetaphysics and meaning in favor of findings grounded on empiri-cal evidence. Keys to this position are familiar aspects of thenaturalsciences: logic, methodology, and validation procedures.Thanks to Comte and other Positivists active in the nineteenthand the early twentieth centuries, these methods were transferredalmost without question (for an exception, see the life work of KarlPopper) and applied to human agency, later known as social sci-ence. It was Comte inThe Positive Philosophy(1855, trans 1974)who first coined the term ‘‘sociology’’ and saw it as being the mostcomplex of sciences, a naturalistic one that can both explain the pastdevelopment of humankind and predict its future course. With this,the application of positivist ideals to social phenomena was almostcomplete. The belief that all true human knowledge is containedwithin the boundaries of science became the accepted norm inWestern thought. Humanity was to be studied in the same scientificmanner as the world of nature, through observations, developmentof hypotheses, and experimentation.Induction, defined as making inferences of a generalized naturefrom particular instances, became the preferred method of consol-idating the observational link between science and reality, not onlyfor the natural, but also for the social sciences. This is in contrast todeduction, a method by which knowledge, inductively generated,is applied to situations not yet observed. Induction, going from thegeneral to the specific, became preferred over deduction, goingfrom the specific to the general.Embedded in this philosophy about what constitutes science, in-cluding the study of human nature, is the assumption of the role ofreasonin human behavior and human understanding. For the mostpart, the Empiricists and Positivists were also Rationalists who,according to Fay (1996) explain human actions by providing the”
“The modern approach to positivism, includingPost-Positivists,tends to berealist, determinist,andnomothetic,or attending to therule-governed nature of reality. Positivism seeks to provide rationalexplanations of social affairs. While being pragmatic and problem-oriented, it continues to apply the reason, models, and methods ofthe natural sciences to the social sciences out of an assumption thatthe social works, like the natural works. Both are seen as composedof relatively concrete empirical facts and relationships that can beidentified (Burrell & Morgan, 1979). Once identified, these facts orartifacts can be studied and measured through reductionisticapproaches, providing aneticor outsider’s/expert’s perspective.For positivists, a more linear reasoning would be most appropriateto accomplish their goals.In contrast, the interpretive approach seeks understanding,rather than description orgeneralization(Imre, 1991; Tyson, 1995).Systematic inquiry is used to develop rich understandings of asituation. Mainstream, objective, controlled, or experimental quan-titative methods are not preferred, as they are unsuited for deeplyprobing into sociobehavioral phenomena. Objective social realityis rejected in favor of deep, contextualized understandings fromthe participants’ or actors’emic,or insiders’ points of view. Inter-pretivist approaches to knowledge building are acknowledgedto be a mix of the rational, serendipitous, and intuitive—allowingmany learning opportunities in the effort to understand. This per-spective assumes that while producing accurate but not objective (inthe positivistic sense) information, processes and products can bewarm, full, and artistic with meaning for both the planner and theuser (consumer) communities.Operatingfromaninterpretiveperspective asserts that the world, asit is, can be understood, but that understanding happens at the level ofsubjective experience. Individual consciousness andsubjectivityarebasic to understanding (Dilthey,1976; Polanyi, 1958), and reality “
“The modern approach to positivism, includingPost-Positivists,tends to berealist, determinist,andnomothetic,or attending to therule-governed nature of reality. Positivism seeks to provide rationalexplanations of social affairs. While being pragmatic and problem-oriented, it continues to apply the reason, models, and methods ofthe natural sciences to the social sciences out of an assumption thatthe social works, like the natural works. Both are seen as composedof relatively concrete empirical facts and relationships that can beidentified (Burrell & Morgan, 1979). Once identified, these facts orartifacts can be studied and measured through reductionisticapproaches, providing aneticor outsider’s/expert’s perspective.For positivists, a more linear reasoning would be most appropriateto accomplish their goals.In contrast, the interpretive approach seeks understanding,rather than description orgeneralization(Imre, 1991; Tyson, 1995).Systematic inquiry is used to develop rich understandings of asituation. Mainstream, objective, controlled, or experimental quan-titative methods are not preferred, as they are unsuited for deeplyprobing into sociobehavioral phenomena. Objective social realityis rejected in favor of deep, contextualized understandings fromthe participants’ or actors’emic,or insiders’ points of view. Inter-pretivist approaches to knowledge building are acknowledgedto be a mix of the rational, serendipitous, and intuitive—allowingmany learning opportunities in the effort to understand. This per-spective assumes that while producing accurate but not objective (inthe positivistic sense) information, processes and products can bewarm, full, and artistic with meaning for both the planner and theuser (consumer) communities.Operatingfromaninterpretiveperspective asserts that the world, asit is, can be understood, but that understanding happens at the level ofsubjective experience. Individual consciousness andsubjectivityarebasic to understanding (Dilthey,1976; Polanyi, 1958), and reality ”
“In terms of the program planning process in the foundation-funded medical case management project described earlier in thischapter, the issues are no different. Differing assumptions werepresent in varying ways of problem-solving, based on differentassumptions in each project about reality orTruth. The foundationembraced the objectives in the proposals submitted by each of theeight sites as ‘‘Truth,’’ and whatever outcomes were developedbecame the only outcomes to be pursued. Such linear, rational think-ing is more congruent with the positivist position. The sites, on theother hand, experienced the need for engaging in circular, non-rational thinking, which is more congruent with interpretiveapproaches. This does not mean they would not have eventuallycome up with new outcomes and different plans, but they needed theflexibility to take what was learned in process and mull it over (spintheir wheels) until new, feasible, context-based directions emerged.However, due to the positivist/interpretivist science competition,these alternative approaches to rational thinking are rarely discussedor recognized as legitimate for program planning, and the founda-tion was not open to entertaining them. Thus, the various partici-pants in this large multisite project felt they were not using theirenergies well when they were not able to move forward in a linearway. In actuality, we think this was productive planning. It was justdifferent from the dominant view of how planning should occur.Rational and Nonrational ThoughtA basic premise for this chapter is the existence and use in problem-solving of both linear and circular thinking, both of which can beimportant to the planning process.To understand how both rationaland nonrational thought serve the planning process, it is important tounderstand the basic premises of each. It should not be surprising tosee that rational thought is congruentwith the positivistic assumptionthat there exists a single, immutabletruththatcanbediscovered”
“Based on this, rational thought extends to include the idea thatmost decisions can be made throughaseriesofwell-definedstepsthat follow a predictable or fixed linear sequence, moving toward apredetermined goal. Decisions are made through a reductionisticassessment of the most benefit for the least cost. The decisions con-form to objective and determinant rules to forecast costs and benefitsafter completing assessment of alternatives, including their positiveand negative consequences. Linearreason helps to make appropriateselections among alternatives geared to minimizing objections whilemaximizing benefits. A comparison of rational and nonrational think-ingisprovidedinTable1.1.Table 1.1Rational/Nonrational: Comparison of Thought Processes for PlanningRationalNonrationalSingle truthMultiple, competing truthsThoughts constructed throughseries of well-defined stepsThoughts must include multipleunderstandingsSteps follow fixed sequenceNo fixed sequence of analytic stepsProcess linearProcess nonlinearBased on market (biggest bangfor the buck)Based on power and politicsMost benefit, least costContext is everythingDecisions based on objectivityand determinant rulesDecisions based on influenceGoal: prediction based onobjectives, alternatives,consequencesGoal: getting what is ‘‘good’’ andavoiding what is ‘‘bad’’Decisions from selectingalternatives and minimizingobjectionsMaking sense of paradox and politicsReason as the basic building blockReasoning by metaphor and analogyDecisions made with assumptionsof precision and linearityDecisions made with clarity and reason,but more fluid and circularAdapted from Fauri, Netting & O’Connor, 2005, p. 105.”
“using rational planning, regardless of the ontological, epistemolog-ical, and linguistic assumptions undergirding thought patternswithin the environmental or organizational contexts in which plan-ning occurs. This would create challenges for culturally relevantand technologically appropriate programming worldwide. It isour suspicion that even when there is a high degree of positivis-tic influence, nonrational approaches to problem-solving anddecision-making are enacted in secret, with a sense that they arenot quite legitimate. This is what happened when the eight healthcare sites in our earlier example did one thing, but pretended to bedoing another.Rational and Nonrational Problem-Solving and Decision-MakingMost existing decision-making and planning approaches are basedon rational models (see, e.g., Kettner, Moroney & Martin, 1999;Netting, Kettner, & McMurtry, 2008; Pawlak & Vinter, 2004). It isas if the only way to problem-solve is to do so rationally with apredetermined goal in mind. However, rational problem-solvingis not without critique. For example, Hasenfeld (2000) sees therational model as ‘‘theoretically weak and empirically untenable’’(p. 92). His position recognizes the uniqueness and complexities oforganizational situations in the face of the multitudes of goals,agendas, and problem-solving and service technologies. Thisunderstanding of organizational realities makes the reduction nec-essary for successful rational planning all but impossible.The nonrational approach to decision-making makes that reduc-tion unnecessary. The logic of this problem-solving process is not somuch nonlinear as it is circular, allowing for the consideration ofeven the most tangential aspects. Knowledge will include multipleunderstandings reached through no fixed sequence of steps. If theprocess were to be characterized, it would look like the child’s toyknown as a Slinky, with its energy moving back and forth through”
“using rational planning, regardless of the ontological, epistemolog-ical, and linguistic assumptions undergirding thought patternswithin the environmental or organizational contexts in which plan-ning occurs. This would create challenges for culturally relevantand technologically appropriate programming worldwide. It isour suspicion that even when there is a high degree of positivis-tic influence, nonrational approaches to problem-solving anddecision-making are enacted in secret, with a sense that they arenot quite legitimate. This is what happened when the eight healthcare sites in our earlier example did one thing, but pretended to bedoing another.Rational and Nonrational Problem-Solving and Decision-MakingMost existing decision-making and planning approaches are basedon rational models (see, e.g., Kettner, Moroney & Martin, 1999;Netting, Kettner, & McMurtry, 2008; Pawlak & Vinter, 2004). It isas if the only way to problem-solve is to do so rationally with apredetermined goal in mind. However, rational problem-solvingis not without critique. For example, Hasenfeld (2000) sees therational model as ‘‘theoretically weak and empirically untenable’’(p. 92). His position recognizes the uniqueness and complexities oforganizational situations in the face of the multitudes of goals,agendas, and problem-solving and service technologies. Thisunderstanding of organizational realities makes the reduction nec-essary for successful rational planning all but impossible.The nonrational approach to decision-making makes that reduc-tion unnecessary. The logic of this problem-solving process is not somuch nonlinear as it is circular, allowing for the consideration ofeven the most tangential aspects. Knowledge will include multipleunderstandings reached through no fixed sequence of steps. If theprocess were to be characterized, it would look like the child’s toyknown as a Slinky, with its energy moving back and forth through”
“problem-solving process. Similarly, Pawlak and Vinter (2004) dis-cuss service program planning as, ‘‘essentially arationaldecisionand an activity process carried out in successive stages of work.Planning is rational in that it is means-ends-driven process’’ (p. 11).The synoptic planning tradition is particularly relevant to publiclymandated programs that have explicit regulations and guidelinesattached to them. These programs must be carried out to the letter,or they will not be continued. A rational process fits well with thistype of programming. In light of our previous discussion, it shouldbe obvious that synoptic, or rational, planning has a distinguishedhistory.The other planning theories in Hudson’s comparison (incre-mental, advocacy, transactive, and radical) developed in reactionto what was seen as limits to the synoptic tradition. One can quic-kly see how this would happen, given the differences betweenrational and nonrational thought. As we investigate their respec-tive underlying assumptions, you will see clues to program plan-ning differences. It is within these theoretical perspectives onplanning that the possibilities of alternative approaches to plan-ning are grounded.Incremental theoretical approaches involve compromises be-tween competing groups in which the ‘‘most politically expedientpolicy rather than the best plan is adopted and implemented’’(Hardina, 2003, p. 256). Incremental planning fits well with plan-ning pilot or demonstration projects because of its short-termnature. For example, a common strategy used by persons with newideas is to develop a pilot project instead of creating a fully con-ceptualized program. Why? Because if the idea behind the project iscontroversial at all, there is a good chance that decision-makers willagree to support a temporary pilot project, whereas they would noteven consider a long-term commitment to a program. This allowsthe project to demonstrate its worth and buys time for the initiators” “problem-solving process. Similarly, Pawlak and Vinter (2004) dis-cuss service program planning as, ‘‘essentially arationaldecisionand an activity process carried out in successive stages of work.Planning is rational in that it is means-ends-driven process’’ (p. 11).The synoptic planning tradition is particularly relevant to publiclymandated programs that have explicit regulations and guidelinesattached to them. These programs must be carried out to the letter,or they will not be continued. A rational process fits well with thistype of programming. In light of our previous discussion, it shouldbe obvious that synoptic, or rational, planning has a distinguishedhistory.The other planning theories in Hudson’s comparison (incre-mental, advocacy, transactive, and radical) developed in reactionto what was seen as limits to the synoptic tradition. One can quic-kly see how this would happen, given the differences betweenrational and nonrational thought. As we investigate their respec-tive underlying assumptions, you will see clues to program plan-ning differences. It is within these theoretical perspectives onplanning that the possibilities of alternative approaches to plan-ning are grounded.Incremental theoretical approaches involve compromises be-tween competing groups in which the ‘‘most politically expedientpolicy rather than the best plan is adopted and implemented’’(Hardina, 2003, p. 256). Incremental planning fits well with plan-ning pilot or demonstration projects because of its short-termnature. For example, a common strategy used by persons with newideas is to develop a pilot project instead of creating a fully con-ceptualized program. Why? Because if the idea behind the project iscontroversial at all, there is a good chance that decision-makers willagree to support a temporary pilot project, whereas they would noteven consider a long-term commitment to a program. This allowsthe project to demonstrate its worth and buys time for the initiators” “to negotiate and bargain with persons in power. For example,Chambers and Wedel (2005) talk aboutpilot projectsas ‘‘likely tobe the loosest type of demonstration program and the ones whoseobjectives are most subject to change. A pilot project searches forunexpected outcomes, and the program design is changed ona simple trial-and-error basis ‘to see what happens’ as a result’’(p. 71). Charles Lindblom (1959) is associated with incrementalplanning because of his famous article on ‘‘the science of muddingthrough’’ in which he criticized rational planning traditions fortheir insensitivity to the politics of planning in a free market econ-omy and a democratic political-economy. As we will see later, onemight even call Lindblom one of the ‘‘fathers’’ of the emergentapproach to planning we introduce in Chapter 4.Advocacy, transactive, and radical theoretical approaches toplanning engage various groups, sometimes referred to asconstit-uenciesorstakeholders, in the planning process and stress inclu-siveness as a precursor to large-scale change. Advocacy plannersrespond to group interests, recognizing pluralistic needs anddemands. This assumes involvement of multiple groups with dif-ferent interests, making the process cumbersome and complex.These approaches are very interpretive in their historical roots. Inthe case of advocacy planning, the planner’s skills in managingpower dynamics take precedence over technical planning skills.Advocacy programs draw on this planning tradition, as do emer-gent planning approaches, to be discussed in later chapters.Transactive planning focuses on maintaining as much face-to-face contact as possible in which mutual learning occurs. It is veryrelationship- and process-oriented, assuming that fundamentalchange can only be secured in this way. Advocacy and transactiveplanning are helpful approaches in planning programs of capacitybuilding and sustainable community development in which buy-inby various constituent groups is essential. Transactive planning” “also essential to the consensus building about bothproblemsandsolutions so necessary in more interpretive forms of planning. Theadage that how the problem is defined in great part determines thesolution very much fits here.Radical planning theories assume the system in which planningis occurring is oppressive, and collaboration among all stakehold-ing groups is rarely possible due to power inequities. Here the focusis on empowerment of the oppressed so that transformative changeassures oppressed groups share in the fruits of the system or engagein planning for systemic-level change. Planning and enacting plansguided by the radical planning theories require huge amounts oftime, and generally involve conflict. To enact the full change proc-ess and the solutions proposed (when guided by radical planningtheories) may not actually be feasible, certainly not at the program-matic level (Hardina, 2003).Hudson (1979) points out that these schools of planning theory arenot mutually exclusive, and each has something to contribute to theother. In rational planning, the intent is often to develop services, orgain access to services within existing systems, not to alter the funda-mental nature of the system itself. Incremental planning guides proj-ect development so that ideas can be demonstrated and powerfulparties can be appeased, building programs one step at a time andeven retracing one’s steps if one runs into difficulty. Advocacy plan-ning, on the other hand, seeks to broaden the scope of whose voicesare heard, perhaps bringing subjugated views to the planning proc-ess. Advocacy planning can be the beginning of moving towardsystemic change. Similarly, process-oriented transactive planningcan move participants in desired directions and is actually veryinterpretive in its nature, since the focus is as much on inclusion asit is on results. Therefore, transactive planning is a way to collectconsumer-sensitive needs assessment data for developing personalservice programs. It employs a more circular process and is highl”
“Table 1.2Planning Theories Having Different ApproachesSynoptic (rational) planning:Is synonymous with a prescriptive type of problem-solving model.Is based on linear thinking, with predetermined goals.Assumes that it’s possible to collect sufficient knowledge so that the bestplan is chosen.Sees planner as expert.Incremental planning:Is based on Lindblom’s (1959) approach to incremental decision-making.Has policy and program plans determined through interest group negotiations.Compromises may be mediated by government through satisficing.Sees planner as pluralist decision-maker to gather information, use socialnetworks.Advocacy planning:Assumes policies and plans are determined through interaction of interest groups.Planners work on behalf of specific groups involved in the planning process anduse methods best suited to represent the views of these groups.Role of planner is to develop ways to equalize the decision-making playing fieldand to advocate for a particular constituency group.Is described as a pluralist approach that takes place in an atmosphere ofcompetition.Success is more tied to use of power resources than to having technical skills.Transactive planning:Is carried out face to face with people affected by decisions.Planners and participants engage in a process of mutual learning.Both expert knowledge and knowledge acquired through experience.Radical planning:Focuses on social movements and grassroots community action.Traditional planning is viewed as supporting the current capitalist system.Planner’s role is to help oppressed groups understand restrictions imposed onthem by the current system.Focuses on the status quo as harmful and that action must be taken to address”
“Table 1.2Planning Theories Having Different ApproachesSynoptic (rational) planning:Is synonymous with a prescriptive type of problem-solving model.Is based on linear thinking, with predetermined goals.Assumes that it’s possible to collect sufficient knowledge so that the bestplan is chosen.Sees planner as expert.Incremental planning:Is based on Lindblom’s (1959) approach to incremental decision-making.Has policy and program plans determined through interest group negotiations.Compromises may be mediated by government through satisficing.Sees planner as pluralist decision-maker to gather information, use socialnetworks.Advocacy planning:Assumes policies and plans are determined through interaction of interest groups.Planners work on behalf of specific groups involved in the planning process anduse methods best suited to represent the views of these groups.Role of planner is to develop ways to equalize the decision-making playing fieldand to advocate for a particular constituency group.Is described as a pluralist approach that takes place in an atmosphere ofcompetition.Success is more tied to use of power resources than to having technical skills.Transactive planning:Is carried out face to face with people affected by decisions.Planners and participants engage in a process of mutual learning.Both expert knowledge and knowledge acquired through experience.Radical planning:Focuses on social movements and grassroots community action.Traditional planning is viewed as supporting the current capitalist system.Planner’s role is to help oppressed groups understand restrictions imposed onthem by the current system.Focuses on the status quo as harmful and that action must be taken to address”
“Kloss (1979) describesscenario planning,which is based on atheater/play metaphor in which a script or story is developed.She credits a military strategist with the Rand Corporation inapplying the term ‘‘scenario’’ to various projects in the 1950s andits subsequent successful use by urban planners in Paris during the1960s. Rather than simply forecasting one way of things unfolding,scenario planning has been used to spin different scripts based onalternative narratives of what could happen in a particular process,essentially telling somewhat elaborate stories about the future.Three schools of scenario planning have emerged: (1) an intuitiveschool in which it was assumed that decisions are highly qualita-tive, with complex intellectual processes about understanding amultitude of internal and external factors; (2) a quantitative schoolusing rational tools such as time-series analyses and traditionaltechniques of forecasting; and (3) a hybrid school in which mixedmethods for analysis are used to propel future scenarios. Note howthe privileging of various ‘‘evidence’’ in each of the three types mayfacilitate the spinning of different scenarios.The concept of thelearning organizationis credited to Aries deGues, a businessman involved in implementing scenario planninginto a French company. The insights learned from scenario plan-ning ‘‘suggest that one learns by observing and reflecting on theresults of our experiences. Reflection allows to deduce new patternsand trends that we did not perceive before and to form new mentalmodels and theories. We then apply these theories and test theirimplications. We observe and reflect on the results of our experi-ences, thus beginning the loop once again’’ (Kloss, 1999, p. 74). Ifthis quote about scenario planning sounds vaguely familiar, it maybe because it describes the Slinky of interpretive thinking. If youare thinking that the foundation in the example introduced earlyin the chapter would have done well to have allowed the eightcase management projects to engage in a bit of Slinky-like scenario”
“Kloss (1979) describesscenario planning,which is based on atheater/play metaphor in which a script or story is developed.She credits a military strategist with the Rand Corporation inapplying the term ‘‘scenario’’ to various projects in the 1950s andits subsequent successful use by urban planners in Paris during the1960s. Rather than simply forecasting one way of things unfolding,scenario planning has been used to spin different scripts based onalternative narratives of what could happen in a particular process,essentially telling somewhat elaborate stories about the future.Three schools of scenario planning have emerged: (1) an intuitiveschool in which it was assumed that decisions are highly qualita-tive, with complex intellectual processes about understanding amultitude of internal and external factors; (2) a quantitative schoolusing rational tools such as time-series analyses and traditionaltechniques of forecasting; and (3) a hybrid school in which mixedmethods for analysis are used to propel future scenarios. Note howthe privileging of various ‘‘evidence’’ in each of the three types mayfacilitate the spinning of different scenarios. The concept of thelearning organizationis credited to Aries deGues, a businessman involved in implementing scenario planninginto a French company. The insights learned from scenario plan-ning ‘‘suggest that one learns by observing and reflecting on theresults of our experiences. Reflection allows to deduce new patternsand trends that we did not perceive before and to form new mentalmodels and theories. We then apply these theories and test theirimplications. We observe and reflect on the results of our experi-ences, thus beginning the loop once again’’ (Kloss, 1999, p. 74). Ifthis quote about scenario planning sounds vaguely familiar, it maybe because it describes the Slinky of interpretive thinking. If youare thinking that the foundation in the example introduced earlyin the chapter would have done well to have allowed the eightcase management projects to engage in a bit of Slinky-like scenario” “class-biased practices; integration of the principles of empower-ment; the use of process and outcome evaluation; and a commit-ment to the self-determination of all women’’ (p. 151). It should beclear to the reader that this approach is another example of anattempt to move toward nonrational and interpretive planning.The ‘‘Surety’’ of the Line and the ‘‘Tentativeness’’of the CircleSo what is the real difference between a line and a circle? For us it isthe difference between being sure and the tentativeness of neverknowing for sure. Each position has its attraction and each has greatconsequences for the program planning process. Each also has itsrole in program planning.The rationalproblem-solving modelhas the surety of a beginningand an ending just the way a line begins and stops. Plannedchange and strategic planning models are built on surety. It is inkeepingwiththetraditionoftop-downhierarchyandbureau-cratic models of organizing, steeped in the tradition of the Indus-trial Revolution whereby factory overseers and managers foundthe one best way to get from raw material to a finished product.The line shows the way to get from point A to point B with theleast interference possible. A line is precise, clean, clear, and effi-cient. A line can be comforting in a complex world because ithelps one know where to go next.However, the efficiency of linear planning approaches may ormay not be effective. The reductionism in linear thinking may causethe planner to overlook or underemphasize essential informationneeded for effective decision-making. The planning may be glori-ously precise and clear but impossible to enact because of inatten-tion to the vagaries of theconditionsat hand, just as some of the sitesin our case management example discovered” “class-biased practices; integration of the principles of empower-ment; the use of process and outcome evaluation; and a commit-ment to the self-determination of all women’’ (p. 151). It should beclear to the reader that this approach is another example of anattempt to move toward nonrational and interpretive planning.The ‘‘Surety’’ of the Line and the ‘‘Tentativeness’’of the CircleSo what is the real difference between a line and a circle? For us it isthe difference between being sure and the tentativeness of neverknowing for sure. Each position has its attraction and each has greatconsequences for the program planning process. Each also has itsrole in program planning.The rationalproblem-solving modelhas the surety of a beginningand an ending just the way a line begins and stops. Plannedchange and strategic planning models are built on surety. It is inkeepingwiththetraditionoftop-downhierarchyandbureau-cratic models of organizing, steeped in the tradition of the Indus-trial Revolution whereby factory overseers and managers foundthe one best way to get from raw material to a finished product.The line shows the way to get from point A to point B with theleast interference possible. A line is precise, clean, clear, and effi-cient. A line can be comforting in a complex world because ithelps one know where to go next.However, the efficiency of linear planning approaches may ormay not be effective. The reductionism in linear thinking may causethe planner to overlook or underemphasize essential informationneeded for effective decision-making. The planning may be glori-ously precise and clear but impossible to enact because of inatten-tion to the vagaries of theconditionsat hand, just as some of the sitesin our case management example discovered”
Chapter 2
“class-biased practices; integration of the principles of empower-ment; the use of process and outcome evaluation; and a commit-ment to the self-determination of all women’’ (p. 151). It should beclear to the reader that this approach is another example of anattempt to move toward nonrational and interpretive planning.The ‘‘Surety’’ of the Line and the ‘‘Tentativeness’’of the CircleSo what is the real difference between a line and a circle? For us it isthe difference between being sure and the tentativeness of neverknowing for sure. Each position has its attraction and each has greatconsequences for the program planning process. Each also has itsrole in program planning.The rationalproblem-solving modelhas the surety of a beginningand an ending just the way a line begins and stops. Plannedchange and strategic planning models are built on surety. It is inkeepingwiththetraditionoftop-downhierarchyandbureau-cratic models of organizing, steeped in the tradition of the Indus-trial Revolution whereby factory overseers and managers foundthe one best way to get from raw material to a finished product.The line shows the way to get from point A to point B with theleast interference possible. A line is precise, clean, clear, and effi-cient. A line can be comforting in a complex world because ithelps one know where to go next.However, the efficiency of linear planning approaches may ormay not be effective. The reductionism in linear thinking may causethe planner to overlook or underemphasize essential informationneeded for effective decision-making. The planning may be glori-ously precise and clear but impossible to enact because of inatten-tion to the vagaries of theconditionsat hand, just as some of the sitesin our case management example discovered” “Assumptions upon which this chapter is based:Programs come in many forms and types.Programs and projects are not the same.Services and interventions give life to programs and projects.Programs are usually contextualized in organizations, butsome programs constitute their own organization.Program planning will differ depending on the impetus for theprogram.Different types of programs also require different planningapproaches based on their assumptions and theories.In this chapter we provide an overview of what constitutesa program, and how programs andprojectsare interrelated. We consider programs to be the structural containers for long-termcommitments usually composed of services and/or interventions designed to both directly and indirectly address human needs.Program designs can be as diverse as creative thought allows, andtheir development reveals how opportunities and problems areidentified and pursued in many ways. We also place programs incontext, reflecting on the consequences of being tethered to orga-nizations and/or groups. PROGRAMS AND PROJECTS; SERVICESAND INTERVENTIONS We introduce the concept of programs as containers because con-tainers come in so many forms and have varying characteristics.Rational program planning at its extreme implies that programs arelike airtight containers in which the contents remain the same, nomatter what happens. A secret is that containers may be anythingbut airtight. Conversely, nonrational program planning views pro-grams as highly versatile containers that are expected to change and” “Assumptions upon which this chapter is based:Programs come in many forms and types.Programs and projects are not the same.Services and interventions give life to programs and projects.Programs are usually contextualized in organizations, butsome programs constitute their own organization.Program planning will differ depending on the impetus for theprogram.Different types of programs also require different planningapproaches based on their assumptions and theories.In this chapter we provide an overview of what constitutesa program, and how programs andprojectsare interrelated. Weconsider programs to be the structural containers for long-termcommitments usually composed of services and/or interventionsdesigned to both directly and indirectly address human needs.Program designs can be as diverse as creative thought allows, andtheir development reveals how opportunities and problems areidentified and pursued in many ways. We also place programs incontext, reflecting on the consequences of being tethered to orga-nizations and/or groups.PROGRAMS AND PROJECTS; SERVICESAND INTERVENTIONSWe introduce the concept of programs as containers because con-tainers come in so many forms and have varying characteristics.Rational program planning at its extreme implies that programs arelike airtight containers in which the contents remain the same, nomatter what happens. A secret is that containers may be anythingbut airtight. Conversely, nonrational program planning views pro-grams as highly versatile containers that are expected to change and” “(e.g., elder services program, child care program); orsocial problem(e.g., child abuse program; crime prevention program). The empha-sis in thistypologyis on the combining of functions, as organizingprinciples, with program delivery. ‘‘Like an agency, a program isan organization that also exists to fulfill a social purpose. There isone main difference, however; a program has a narrower, better-defined purpose and is always nested within an agency’’ (p. 42). Insmall agencies, it may be that there is only one program, and thatprogram and agency are actually one and the same.Programs and ProjectsThe terms ‘‘program’’ and ‘‘project’’ are often used interchange-ably; yet they are defined differently in textbooks. ‘‘Projects aremuch like programs but have a time-limited existence and aremore flexible so that they can be adapted to the needs of achanging environment. Projects, if deemed successful and worth-while, are often permanently installed as programs’’ (Netting,Kettner, & McMurtry, 2008, p. 329). In the previous chapter, wenoted that Chambers and Wedel (2005) are very specific about thedefinition of a pilot project as the ‘‘loosest type of demonstrationprogram[s] and the ones whose objectives are most subject tochange’’ (p. 71). Thus, projects can be viewed as one-time oper-ations of shorter duration (Pawlak & Vinter, 2004). It could be saidthat projects are miniprograms or pilots that test out whetherideas will work in the real world. Then, projects rise to programstatus,ifthey are viewed as working well and are seen as relevantto problem-solving.Some programs have cycles, such as after-school programs, thatebb and flow with the academic year. Others have a sense of con-stant flow, such as hospice programs in which people in need ofsupport in the dying process are encountered throughout the year.” “(e.g., elder services program, child care program); orsocial problem(e.g., child abuse program; crime prevention program). The empha-sis in thistypologyis on the combining of functions, as organizingprinciples, with program delivery. ‘‘Like an agency, a program isan organization that also exists to fulfill a social purpose. There isone main difference, however; a program has a narrower, better-defined purpose and is always nested within an agency’’ (p. 42). Insmall agencies, it may be that there is only one program, and thatprogram and agency are actually one and the same.Programs and ProjectsThe terms ‘‘program’’ and ‘‘project’’ are often used interchange-ably; yet they are defined differently in textbooks. ‘‘Projects aremuch like programs but have a time-limited existence and aremore flexible so that they can be adapted to the needs of achanging environment. Projects, if deemed successful and worth-while, are often permanently installed as programs’’ (Netting,Kettner, & McMurtry, 2008, p. 329). In the previous chapter, wenoted that Chambers and Wedel (2005) are very specific about thedefinition of a pilot project as the ‘‘loosest type of demonstrationprogram[s] and the ones whose objectives are most subject tochange’’ (p. 71). Thus, projects can be viewed as one-time oper-ations of shorter duration (Pawlak & Vinter, 2004). It could be saidthat projects are miniprograms or pilots that test out whetherideas will work in the real world. Then, projects rise to programstatus,ifthey are viewed as working well and are seen as relevantto problem-solving.Some programs have cycles, such as after-school programs, thatebb and flow with the academic year. Others have a sense of con-stant flow, such as hospice programs in which people in need ofsupport in the dying process are encountered throughout the year.” “(e.g., elder services program, child care program); orsocial problem(e.g., child abuse program; crime prevention program). The empha-sis in thistypologyis on the combining of functions, as organizingprinciples, with program delivery. ‘‘Like an agency, a program isan organization that also exists to fulfill a social purpose. There isone main difference, however; a program has a narrower, better-defined purpose and is always nested within an agency’’ (p. 42). Insmall agencies, it may be that there is only one program, and thatprogram and agency are actually one and the same.Programs and ProjectsThe terms ‘‘program’’ and ‘‘project’’ are often used interchange-ably; yet they are defined differently in textbooks. ‘‘Projects aremuch like programs but have a time-limited existence and aremore flexible so that they can be adapted to the needs of achanging environment. Projects, if deemed successful and worth-while, are often permanently installed as programs’’ (Netting,Kettner, & McMurtry, 2008, p. 329). In the previous chapter, wenoted that Chambers and Wedel (2005) are very specific about thedefinition of a pilot project as the ‘‘loosest type of demonstrationprogram[s] and the ones whose objectives are most subject tochange’’ (p. 71). Thus, projects can be viewed as one-time oper-ations of shorter duration (Pawlak & Vinter, 2004). It could be saidthat projects are miniprograms or pilots that test out whetherideas will work in the real world. Then, projects rise to programstatus,ifthey are viewed as working well and are seen as relevantto problem-solving.Some programs have cycles, such as after-school programs, thatebb and flow with the academic year. Others have a sense of con-stant flow, such as hospice programs in which people in need ofsupport in the dying process are encountered throughout the year.” “this situation, and unless the counselor is culturally sensitive andable to intervene in a culturally competent way, he or she will not beable to address human need in this case. It would behoove CFS,therefore, to have a staff development and training program inplace to keep its counselors up to date on methods used to workwith diverse population groups as the composition of the localcommunity changes, especially if the agency case load is shiftingin this direction.Some services are interventions to address human needs directly,while others indirectly impact human need; and these are equallyimportant.Macrointerventionsare sets of coordinated or linkedactions, often engaging numerous participants in organizational,community, or policy arenas. These interventions, often calledmacro-level strategies and tactics, are programmatic as well, andare often performed in tandem with direct service intervention. Forexample, if the same counselor who was seeing a recent immigrantbegan to find his or her caseload swelling as many new immigrantsarrived in the community, not only would the counselor’s need fordevelopment and training increase but he or she might begin to seepatterns. Patterns might include an influx of people who are strug-gling to adjust to the culture, parents who are having difficultyfinding jobs, and children who are forsaking traditional culturesfrom their homelands for American lifestyles. In addition to pro-viding direct services, interventions might include advocating forsensitive policy change and participating in community outreach” “had no other program directed at their needs, and that it would betrusted because the services were provided at the location of thepublic social service agency.Programs are housed under the auspices of grassroots groups,voluntary associations, coalitions, nonprofit organizations, publicagencies, and a host of others. Many times, the clients for whomprograms advocate may be controversial, making the organizationalbase very important in providing an element of stability. All fundedprograms require at least some formal organizational structure toserve as a legal conduit for funding. Organizational auspices areimportant to the context, but it is the programmatic activity throughwhich implementation of service vision comes alive.Practitioners are often professionally affiliated with an organiza-tional structure or structures—whether they are private practitio-ners within the confines of a small group practice or public officialswithin a complex web of bureaucratically entangled relationships.In their work practitioners encounter multitudes of organizationswithin their communities, regardless of where they perform theirroles. They work in and with organizations, interfacing with amultiple network of organizations, all of which will have distinctivecultures. Throughout this book you will see the important roleculture plays in all aspects of organization practice, to the degreethat multicultural skills have become an important cornerstone foreffective practice (Netting & O’Connor, 2003).Organizations have been viewed by some theorists as situated inuncertain, turbulent environments in which they are constantlyresponding toconstraints(things they can not change) andcontin-gencies(things about which they have to compromise and negoti-ate). Yet it is not just the environments in which organizationsoperate that are uncertain and turbulent; organizations face inter-nal uncertainties and turbulence as well. Organizations are dyna-mic, changing entities that are situated in dynamic and changing” “had no other program directed at their needs, and that it would betrusted because the services were provided at the location of thepublic social service agency.Programs are housed under the auspices of grassroots groups,voluntary associations, coalitions, nonprofit organizations, publicagencies, and a host of others. Many times, the clients for whomprograms advocate may be controversial, making the organizationalbase very important in providing an element of stability. All fundedprograms require at least some formal organizational structure toserve as a legal conduit for funding. Organizational auspices areimportant to the context, but it is the programmatic activity throughwhich implementation of service vision comes alive.Practitioners are often professionally affiliated with an organiza-tional structure or structures—whether they are private practitio-ners within the confines of a small group practice or public officialswithin a complex web of bureaucratically entangled relationships.In their work practitioners encounter multitudes of organizationswithin their communities, regardless of where they perform theirroles. They work in and with organizations, interfacing with amultiple network of organizations, all of which will have distinctivecultures. Throughout this book you will see the important roleculture plays in all aspects of organization practice, to the degreethat multicultural skills have become an important cornerstone foreffective practice (Netting & O’Connor, 2003).Organizations have been viewed by some theorists as situated inuncertain, turbulent environments in which they are constantlyresponding toconstraints(things they can not change) andcontin-gencies(things about which they have to compromise and negoti-ate). Yet it is not just the environments in which organizationsoperate that are uncertain and turbulent; organizations face inter-nal uncertainties and turbulence as well. Organizations are dyna-mic, changing entities that are situated in dynamic and changing” “programs, sometimes called human service programs, provide directclient benefits. Indirect benefits are obtained through staff develop-ment and training, in which providers become more knowledgeableand skilled in doing their jobs. Support programs also provide indirectbenefits, and are designed to engage in fundraising or advocacyefforts. Advocacy planning is discussed as one type of support pro-gram, designed with macro-level interventions in mind. Projects, incontrast to programs, are short term (usually a year or less) and areused to discover what services or combinations of interventions mightbe helpful in addressing more complex human need.Most programs exist in or are tethered to organizations, partic-ularly if funding is involved. Organizations are defined as ‘‘a socialunit with some particular purpose’’ (Shafritz & Ott, 2001). Someprograms are nested in huge public agencies, while others reside innonprofit or for-profit settings. Sometimes, small programs aretheir own organizations, thus making the program and organiza-tion the same entity.Program planning is initiated as a result of public mandates, localcommunity efforts, or foundation initiatives to meet identifiedneeds. The genesis of a program is important because it will provideclues to what type of planning approach can (and perhaps should)be used. There are challenges in following the guidance of lesstraditional theoretical approaches, including managing account-ability expectations that do not necessarily match the approachesor theories being used. These challenges will be the focus of much ofwhat follows in Chapters 3 through 6.” “programs, sometimes called human service programs, provide directclient benefits. Indirect benefits are obtained through staff develop-ment and training, in which providers become more knowledgeableand skilled in doing their jobs. Support programs also provide indirectbenefits, and are designed to engage in fundraising or advocacyefforts. Advocacy planning is discussed as one type of support pro-gram, designed with macro-level interventions in mind. Projects, incontrast to programs, are short term (usually a year or less) and areused to discover what services or combinations of interventions mightbe helpful in addressing more complex human need.Most programs exist in or are tethered to organizations, partic-ularly if funding is involved. Organizations are defined as ‘‘a socialunit with some particular purpose’’ (Shafritz & Ott, 2001). Someprograms are nested in huge public agencies, while others reside innonprofit or for-profit settings. Sometimes, small programs aretheir own organizations, thus making the program and organiza-tion the same entity.Program planning is initiated as a result of public mandates, localcommunity efforts, or foundation initiatives to meet identifiedneeds. The genesis of a program is important because it will provideclues to what type of planning approach can (and perhaps should)be used. There are challenges in following the guidance of lesstraditional theoretical approaches, including managing account-ability expectations that do not necessarily match the approachesor theories being used. These challenges will be the focus of much ofwhat follows in Chapters 3 through 6.”
Chapter 3
“workers who were all engaged in doing advocacy, education, anddirect service functions. Ironically, these volunteers seemed to seethe linkages between the programs better than did the coordina-tors of the programs. The volunteers had actually taken the ini-tiative and developed a pilot project with local hospice andpalliative care units to share information on pain management.As the retreat continued, a number of questions were raised:Should we restructure the programs so that they don’t have theirown identities, and make them into one large program withdifferent component parts? Should we combine the advocacyand education programs into one unit, since there is so muchoverlap? Should we hire a volunteer coordinator for all volun-teers so that assignments can be monitored and overseen, and sothat the program coordinators do not compete for volunteers?Should we go back to the drawing board and think through whatit is we want to be, and then consider if reorganization of pro-gram units and services are in order?As these questions were raised, the direct service coordinatorbecame increasingly concerned. With a furrowed brow, he said,‘‘This raises the whole question of identity and vision. We are achapter among many, and we can’t be the first chapter that hasstruggled with these issues. What are other chapters doing? And,more importantly, what guidance can National provide for us?They must have some idea about what they want to see happen.’’As the meeting ended, there appeared to be more questionsraised than directions set. In the weeks that followed, the CEOmet with other chapter directors in the region, hoping to locate anideal programmatic structure. I” “workers who were all engaged in doing advocacy, education, anddirect service functions. Ironically, these volunteers seemed to seethe linkages between the programs better than did the coordina-tors of the programs. The volunteers had actually taken the ini-tiative and developed a pilot project with local hospice andpalliative care units to share information on pain management.As the retreat continued, a number of questions were raised:Should we restructure the programs so that they don’t have theirown identities, and make them into one large program withdifferent component parts? Should we combine the advocacyand education programs into one unit, since there is so muchoverlap? Should we hire a volunteer coordinator for all volun-teers so that assignments can be monitored and overseen, and sothat the program coordinators do not compete for volunteers?Should we go back to the drawing board and think through whatit is we want to be, and then consider if reorganization of pro-gram units and services are in order?As these questions were raised, the direct service coordinatorbecame increasingly concerned. With a furrowed brow, he said,‘‘This raises the whole question of identity and vision. We are achapter among many, and we can’t be the first chapter that hasstruggled with these issues. What are other chapters doing? And,more importantly, what guidance can National provide for us?They must have some idea about what they want to see happen.’’As the meeting ended, there appeared to be more questionsraised than directions set. In the weeks that followed, the CEOmet with other chapter directors in the region, hoping to locate anideal programmatic structure. I” “can know the problem if one analyzes it well enough; that onecan solve a problem if a clear direction of how to proceed canbe identified; and that there are logical ways in which to movethrough thisproblem-solving process.Inrational planning, there is atype of linearity present, in that the plan, when produced, goes fromone step to the next until the established goal is achieved. Faludi(1973) refers to this as a ‘‘blueprint’’ mode of planning (p. 131). Thelinearity is still present even if one starts with a goal and worksbackwards. This process is called ‘‘reverse-order planning’’ (Brody,2000, pp. 77–78), establishing a goal and then backtracking to fill inthe actions that need to occur to arrive at the selected goal. In a way,that is exactly what happened in the case just presented.We have engaged in many rational, prescriptive, problem-solving processes in our careers. In fact, they have provided somecomfort in times of uncertainty in our work, when many unex-pected situations would arise and when having a blueprint seemednecessary. Having a predetermined goal and keeping sight of thatvision felt good, in the face of so many uncontrollable variables.For example, Mulroy and Lauber (2004) reported on a three-yeardemonstration grant from the U.S. Department of Health and HumanServices designed to prevent homelessness among public housingresidents in Hawaii. The goal wasto move these families towardself-sufficiency, requiring stabilizing the families’ living situationsand addressing barriers to obtaining jobs. As a grantee, they wereexpected to use a logic model in which the program was graphicallyrepresented by a series of components and expected accomplishmentsthat led to predetermined outcomes.Theydemonstratedhowimpor-tant it was not to lose track of the ultimate goal—that families wouldbe independent of government assistance over a period of time.In this chapter, we focus on traditional rational program planning,using prescriptive approaches. We begin with a brief historicalbackground. Building on well-known scholars in planning and” “always take into account the uncertainty about conditions that willexist in the future and that cannot always be predicted. Second, ifdecisions were made democratically—that is, various voices areheard—it would be difficult to calculate the trade-offs among stake-holder preferences because objectives are so different. And, third,decision theorists assumed that once a decision was made, it wouldbe implemented with minimum friction. But beyond these prob-lems, probably the most notable critique of the rationalist schoolwas the ‘‘neglect of the human side of planning’’ (p. 164).Even though concerns about rational approaches to planninghave been articulated for decades, rational program planning/prescriptive approaches based on outcome-based measurement arepart of an era of accountability that has swept through the UnitedStates in the last three decades. Kettner, Moroney, and Martin(1999) wrote: ‘‘As the decade of the 1990s unfolded, these concerns[about accountability] became part of a national debate, and fund-ing agencies at all levels began to require that service providersdevelop mechanisms to respond to these issues. Rhetoric gave wayto practice’’ (p. 3). Over a decade ago, Martin and Kettner (1996)named five major forces driving performance measurement: (a) theGovernment Performance and Results Act (Public Law No. 103-62)in which all levels of government were required to develop per-formance measures; (b) the National Performance Review, whichsought to carry out in practice the movement to reinvent govern-ment; (c) the Total Quality Management (TQM) approach, whichpromoted performance reporting; (d) managed care (with its deepmonitoring system); and (e) the Service Efforts and Accomplish-ment (SFA) reporting initiative of the Government AccountingStandards Board, phasing in mandatory collection and reportingof performance measures by all state and local governments (inclu-sive of human service providers). Although not without a strongcritique (see, e.g., Gray & McDonald, 2006; Witkin & Harrison” “always take into account the uncertainty about conditions that willexist in the future and that cannot always be predicted. Second, ifdecisions were made democratically—that is, various voices areheard—it would be difficult to calculate the trade-offs among stake-holder preferences because objectives are so different. And, third,decision theorists assumed that once a decision was made, it wouldbe implemented with minimum friction. But beyond these prob-lems, probably the most notable critique of the rationalist schoolwas the ‘‘neglect of the human side of planning’’ (p. 164).Even though concerns about rational approaches to planninghave been articulated for decades, rational program planning/prescriptive approaches based on outcome-based measurement arepart of an era of accountability that has swept through the UnitedStates in the last three decades. Kettner, Moroney, and Martin(1999) wrote: ‘‘As the decade of the 1990s unfolded, these concerns[about accountability] became part of a national debate, and fund-ing agencies at all levels began to require that service providersdevelop mechanisms to respond to these issues. Rhetoric gave wayto practice’’ (p. 3). Over a decade ago, Martin and Kettner (1996)named five major forces driving performance measurement: (a) theGovernment Performance and Results Act (Public Law No. 103-62)in which all levels of government were required to develop per-formance measures; (b) the National Performance Review, whichsought to carry out in practice the movement to reinvent govern-ment; (c) the Total Quality Management (TQM) approach, whichpromoted performance reporting; (d) managed care (with its deepmonitoring system); and (e) the Service Efforts and Accomplish-ment (SFA) reporting initiative of the Government AccountingStandards Board, phasing in mandatory collection and reportingof performance measures by all state and local governments (inclu-sive of human service providers). Although not without a strongcritique (see, e.g., Gray & McDonald, 2006; Witkin & Harrison” “always take into account the uncertainty about conditions that willexist in the future and that cannot always be predicted. Second, ifdecisions were made democratically—that is, various voices areheard—it would be difficult to calculate the trade-offs among stake-holder preferences because objectives are so different. And, third,decision theorists assumed that once a decision was made, it wouldbe implemented with minimum friction. But beyond these prob-lems, probably the most notable critique of the rationalist schoolwas the ‘‘neglect of the human side of planning’’ (p. 164).Even though concerns about rational approaches to planninghave been articulated for decades, rational program planning/prescriptive approaches based on outcome-based measurement arepart of an era of accountability that has swept through the UnitedStates in the last three decades. Kettner, Moroney, and Martin(1999) wrote: ‘‘As the decade of the 1990s unfolded, these concerns[about accountability] became part of a national debate, and fund-ing agencies at all levels began to require that service providersdevelop mechanisms to respond to these issues. Rhetoric gave wayto practice’’ (p. 3). Over a decade ago, Martin and Kettner (1996)named five major forces driving performance measurement: (a) theGovernment Performance and Results Act (Public Law No. 103-62)in which all levels of government were required to develop per-formance measures; (b) the National Performance Review, whichsought to carry out in practice the movement to reinvent govern-ment; (c) the Total Quality Management (TQM) approach, whichpromoted performance reporting; (d) managed care (with its deepmonitoring system); and (e) the Service Efforts and Accomplish-ment (SFA) reporting initiative of the Government AccountingStandards Board, phasing in mandatory collection and reportingof performance measures by all state and local governments (inclu-sive of human service providers). Although not without a strongcritique (see, e.g., Gray & McDonald, 2006; Witkin & Harrison” “always take into account the uncertainty about conditions that willexist in the future and that cannot always be predicted. Second, ifdecisions were made democratically—that is, various voices areheard—it would be difficult to calculate the trade-offs among stake-holder preferences because objectives are so different. And, third,decision theorists assumed that once a decision was made, it wouldbe implemented with minimum friction. But beyond these prob-lems, probably the most notable critique of the rationalist schoolwas the ‘‘neglect of the human side of planning’’ (p. 164).Even though concerns about rational approaches to planninghave been articulated for decades, rational program planning/prescriptive approaches based on outcome-based measurement arepart of an era of accountability that has swept through the UnitedStates in the last three decades. Kettner, Moroney, and Martin(1999) wrote: ‘‘As the decade of the 1990s unfolded, these concerns[about accountability] became part of a national debate, and fund-ing agencies at all levels began to require that service providersdevelop mechanisms to respond to these issues. Rhetoric gave wayto practice’’ (p. 3). Over a decade ago, Martin and Kettner (1996)named five major forces driving performance measurement: (a) theGovernment Performance and Results Act (Public Law No. 103-62)in which all levels of government were required to develop per-formance measures; (b) the National Performance Review, whichsought to carry out in practice the movement to reinvent govern-ment; (c) the Total Quality Management (TQM) approach, whichpromoted performance reporting; (d) managed care (with its deepmonitoring system); and (e) the Service Efforts and Accomplish-ment (SFA) reporting initiative of the Government AccountingStandards Board, phasing in mandatory collection and reportingof performance measures by all state and local governments (inclu-sive of human service providers). Although not without a strongcritique (see, e.g., Gray & McDonald, 2006; Witkin & Harrison” “always take into account the uncertainty about conditions that willexist in the future and that cannot always be predicted. Second, ifdecisions were made democratically—that is, various voices areheard—it would be difficult to calculate the trade-offs among stake-holder preferences because objectives are so different. And, third,decision theorists assumed that once a decision was made, it wouldbe implemented with minimum friction. But beyond these prob-lems, probably the most notable critique of the rationalist schoolwas the ‘‘neglect of the human side of planning’’ (p. 164).Even though concerns about rational approaches to planninghave been articulated for decades, rational program planning/prescriptive approaches based on outcome-based measurement arepart of an era of accountability that has swept through the UnitedStates in the last three decades. Kettner, Moroney, and Martin(1999) wrote: ‘‘As the decade of the 1990s unfolded, these concerns[about accountability] became part of a national debate, and fund-ing agencies at all levels began to require that service providersdevelop mechanisms to respond to these issues. Rhetoric gave wayto practice’’ (p. 3). Over a decade ago, Martin and Kettner (1996)named five major forces driving performance measurement: (a) theGovernment Performance and Results Act (Public Law No. 103-62)in which all levels of government were required to develop per-formance measures; (b) the National Performance Review, whichsought to carry out in practice the movement to reinvent govern-ment; (c) the Total Quality Management (TQM) approach, whichpromoted performance reporting; (d) managed care (with its deepmonitoring system); and (e) the Service Efforts and Accomplish-ment (SFA) reporting initiative of the Government AccountingStandards Board, phasing in mandatory collection and reportingof performance measures by all state and local governments (inclu-sive of human service providers). Although not without a strongcritique (see, e.g., Gray & McDonald, 2006; Witkin & Harrison” “always take into account the uncertainty about conditions that willexist in the future and that cannot always be predicted. Second, ifdecisions were made democratically—that is, various voices areheard—it would be difficult to calculate the trade-offs among stake-holder preferences because objectives are so different. And, third,decision theorists assumed that once a decision was made, it wouldbe implemented with minimum friction. But beyond these prob-lems, probably the most notable critique of the rationalist schoolwas the ‘‘neglect of the human side of planning’’ (p. 164).Even though concerns about rational approaches to planninghave been articulated for decades, rational program planning/prescriptive approaches based on outcome-based measurement arepart of an era of accountability that has swept through the UnitedStates in the last three decades. Kettner, Moroney, and Martin(1999) wrote: ‘‘As the decade of the 1990s unfolded, these concerns[about accountability] became part of a national debate, and fund-ing agencies at all levels began to require that service providersdevelop mechanisms to respond to these issues. Rhetoric gave wayto practice’’ (p. 3). Over a decade ago, Martin and Kettner (1996)named five major forces driving performance measurement: (a) theGovernment Performance and Results Act (Public Law No. 103-62)in which all levels of government were required to develop per-formance measures; (b) the National Performance Review, whichsought to carry out in practice the movement to reinvent govern-ment; (c) the Total Quality Management (TQM) approach, whichpromoted performance reporting; (d) managed care (with its deepmonitoring system); and (e) the Service Efforts and Accomplish-ment (SFA) reporting initiative of the Government AccountingStandards Board, phasing in mandatory collection and reportingof performance measures by all state and local governments (inclu-sive of human service providers). Although not without a strongcritique (see, e.g., Gray & McDonald, 2006; Witkin & Harrison”
“program aimed at impacting the defined problem. Inputs includeknowledge, skill, and expertise, but more specifically involvehuman resources, fiscal resources, and other inputs such as facilitiesand equipment, and the knowledge base for the program. Inputsalso include the necessary involvement of collaborators needed forplanning, delivery and/or evaluation. In our case at the beginningof the chapter, the inputs include everything necessary to house,feed, and care for the street children, as well as all the human andother resources needed to treat and educate the children and pre-pare families for them.The intervention input should be built on a knowledge baseregarding the problem, and empirical, evidence-based knowledgeabout what might be effective. To assure this, the program shouldbe grounded in well-conceived theory. Savaya and Waysman (2005)examine how hard it is to actually incorporate theory when com-plicated programs use multiple theories. They see the logic modelas a way to do this. They refer to the growing number of users’guides that walk planners through the step-by-step ‘‘process ofarticulating the program theory by dividing it up into discrete units(inputs, outputs, outcomes, etc.) that are connected via links thatcan be readily examined for logic and feasibility’’ (p. 88).Chambers and Wedel (2005) say four things about programtheory. First,program theoryis the source from which the programactivities are drawn. In other words, program design and specifi-cation are directly tied to theory. Second, theory is central to pro-gram management in that it is required as a measure in observing” “program aimed at impacting the defined problem. Inputs includeknowledge, skill, and expertise, but more specifically involvehuman resources, fiscal resources, and other inputs such as facilitiesand equipment, and the knowledge base for the program. Inputsalso include the necessary involvement of collaborators needed forplanning, delivery and/or evaluation. In our case at the beginningof the chapter, the inputs include everything necessary to house,feed, and care for the street children, as well as all the human andother resources needed to treat and educate the children and pre-pare families for them.The intervention input should be built on a knowledge baseregarding the problem, and empirical, evidence-based knowledgeabout what might be effective. To assure this, the program shouldbe grounded in well-conceived theory. Savaya and Waysman (2005)examine how hard it is to actually incorporate theory when com-plicated programs use multiple theories. They see the logic modelas a way to do this. They refer to the growing number of users’guides that walk planners through the step-by-step ‘‘process ofarticulating the program theory by dividing it up into discrete units(inputs, outputs, outcomes, etc.) that are connected via links thatcan be readily examined for logic and feasibility’’ (p. 88).Chambers and Wedel (2005) say four things about programtheory. First,program theoryis the source from which the programactivities are drawn. In other words, program design and specifi-cation are directly tied to theory. Second, theory is central to pro-gram management in that it is required as a measure in observing” “program aimed at impacting the defined problem. Inputs includeknowledge, skill, and expertise, but more specifically involvehuman resources, fiscal resources, and other inputs such as facilitiesand equipment, and the knowledge base for the program. Inputsalso include the necessary involvement of collaborators needed forplanning, delivery and/or evaluation. In our case at the beginningof the chapter, the inputs include everything necessary to house,feed, and care for the street children, as well as all the human andother resources needed to treat and educate the children and pre-pare families for them.The intervention input should be built on a knowledge baseregarding the problem, and empirical, evidence-based knowledgeabout what might be effective. To assure this, the program shouldbe grounded in well-conceived theory. Savaya and Waysman (2005)examine how hard it is to actually incorporate theory when com-plicated programs use multiple theories. They see the logic modelas a way to do this. They refer to the growing number of users’guides that walk planners through the step-by-step ‘‘process ofarticulating the program theory by dividing it up into discrete units(inputs, outputs, outcomes, etc.) that are connected via links thatcan be readily examined for logic and feasibility’’ (p. 88).Chambers and Wedel (2005) say four things about programtheory. First,program theoryis the source from which the programactivities are drawn. In other words, program design and specifi-cation are directly tied to theory. Second, theory is central to pro-gram management in that it is required as a measure in observing”
Order an Essay Now & Get These Features For Free:
Turnitin Report
Formatting
Title Page
Citation
Outline
