Using Self-Directed Learning to Teach Adults
SDL (Self-Directed Learning)
For K-12 and post-secondary education, learning tends to be externally-motivated, meaning the institutional constraints of whatever system one inhabits mandate content and practices that one should learn; they (usually) control the why, how, and what. As the perceived value of higher education has declined or perceptions of its value change, it’s become more difficult as a professor to count on the efficacy of those external motivations—and most good teachers at any level should, I think, try to cultivate internal-motivation. Loeng has made the case for using SDL to change higher ed in particular: “The field of higher education requires a transformation from the authoritative role of the educator into the educator as a facilitator of learning. Self-directed learning should be a well-suited refection basis for this shift” (2020, p. 1). It’s a welcome idea. Since higher ed’s population tends to be “adults” or “emerging adults” (to use one sociologists’s term), approaches that try to teach the adult learner do … and sometimes don’t work. But they can likely give students a degree of autonomy that might activate internally-motivated interest in learning.
Unlike with higher ed, where there is often at least some residual external constraint motivation, internal motivation becomes much more important for adult learners—and, as the basic principles of andragogy teach us, internal motivation is often tied to very specific real-world problems and professional goals—Bierema et al.’s “intrinsic motivation” (2025, p. 221). SDL can play a crucial role here because it trusts the adult learner to know (or find out) what it is they need to know: “Self-directed learning entails individuals taking initiative and responsibility for their own learning” (Loeng, 2020, p. 2).
Consider two definitions of SDL:
“At the hear of Self-Directed Learning is the notion that the learner takes control of his/her own learning; that is, the learner decides what and how to learn” (Merriam and Bierema, 2013, p. 62).
“In its broadest meaning, self-directed learning describes a process by which individuals take the initiative, with or without the assistance of others, in diagnosing their learning needs, formulating learning goals, identifying human and material resources for learning, choosing and implementing appropriate learning strategies, and evaluating learning outcomes” (Loeng, 2020, p. 3).
At first blush, these would seem to suggest going out and doing your own projects; which is part of SDL. As Loeng points out, SDL “is evidently grounded in humanistic assumptions” (2020, p. 4) and “romantic humanism,” including the whole list, “freedom, dignity, self-awareness, self-realization, and the development of the whole human potential” (2020, p. 5). And SDL is “opposed to a more traditional content-centered practice” (Loeng, 2020, p. 5).
But the “personal responsibility” model of SDL is inaccurate; as Bierema et al. rightly caution later in their chapter on SDL that “responsibility” isn’t neoliberal autonomy where the learner assumes all risk and must ‘take care of themselves’ (or Myth 2 in Bierema et al., 2025, p. 238). This doesn’t even work, as I can attest; the threshold of my own SDL learning is almost always set by the lack of an instructor or mentor—and a lack of time. Instead, as Grow’s model of self-directed learning stages suggests (1991, 1994; see Bierema et al, 2025, 230-231), SDL is an emergent practice; it emerges out from other andragogical practices and depends on them as a foundation.
As a thought experiment to demonstrate how the role of the instructor changes in SDL, let’s imagine how we might use SDL when teaching adult learners who work in some kind of industry. The motivation in question would be a desire to gain more knowledge about a particular practice or product or greater familiarity with a way of working together, communicating, presenting, etc. Such a context would require a shift in how the instructor positions themselves: “When teachers are involved, they should be facilitators of learning, not transmitters” (Loeng, 2020, p. 2). Let’s say a group wanted to learn more effective outreach strategies, the instructor might start with what they’ve tried and how it’s worked or not worked; this immediately positions you as a facilitator who values the existing knowledge and experience of your learners. You might then offer them the chance to research techniques for outreach on their own, serving as a “consultant, delegator, mentor,” as Grow’s model suggests (1991, 1994).
But a crucial change will also be a shift in how you teach, from thinking about learning styles (which don’t have much evidence for them) to focusing instead on the situation of your learners.
Situation not Style
The idea of “learning style” still appears fairly regularly in the university classroom although there’s little evidence to support the idea, as Joshua Cuevas shows in an extensively-research article, “Is Learning Styles-Based Instruction Effective? A Comprehensive Analysis of Recent Research on Learning Styles” (2015). Cuevas offers a concise definition: “The phrase learning styles refers to the concept that different people prefer to process information in different ways and therefore learn more effectively when they receive instruction in a way that conforms to their preferences (Pashler et al., 2009)” (2015, p. 309). Driven in part by the “commercial component” of Learning Styles, the idea has survived multiple challenges to its evidence-based validity, particularly from learning psychologists (who probably tend to be more evidence-based just by virtue of the methodologies of their field). Cuevas notes “the lack of published research in reputable psychology journals or high-level education journals, where experimental research on learning styles was practically nonexistent” (2015, p. 328). While I did have a nagging question about how “learning” was being measured in each study, I’d anecdotally heard of lack of evidence for Learning Styles approaches before.
As Loeng and Bierema et al. point out quite frequently, far more effective than learning styles will be understanding the situation of your learners and creating the situations in which they can best learn on their own. As Loeng points out, “self-direction cannot be perceived as a universal characteristic of being an adult but rather a situational characteristic” (Loeng, 2020, p. 8) where “good teaching is situational by nature” (Loeng, 2020, p. 8). It’s about “learning climate” and “learning environment” (Bierema et al., 2025, p. 230)—and these require conscientious attention.
So what kinds of situations might you create for our hypothetical adult learners in industry:
A situation in which the conditions have immediate, relevant applications to their work.
A situation in which the problems they wanted to solve through learning actually get solved.
A situation in which reflection is meaningful (rather than performative talking about).
Related to 3., A situation in which learning solves actual, day-to-day problems and isn’t performative compliance.
A situation in which learners are actually given the resources they need to learn, particularly time.
Not all of these might be within the control of the instructor. And, as some critiques of SDL point out, these approaches can be very resource-contingent. My own SDL projects almost always fall victim to a lack of time. But what is within instructor control—and will require honest reflection with the group—is whether learning is useful and impactful or performative. By performative, I mean completing a workshop that doesn’t actually address real problems you encounter in your work. A learning climate where problems are raised honestly and where “solutions” are honestly interrogated to see whether they work is key.
But that’s not how a lot of organizations work. As with other learning theories, it seems that the prevailing limitation on learning is the neoliberal economic conditions of scarcity and personally assumed risk that shape all of life today. Paradoxically, it is those very conditions that also mean “continuous learning is required” (Loeng, 2020, p. 6).