1. Introduction
Consider the following scenario: A chief subject-area superintendent (a state administrator responsible for a school subject within the Ministry of Education) issued circulars outlining a policy according to which literature—remaining as a school subject—was to be integrated into, though not subsumed by, language education. The policy was disseminated to elementary school teachers, who “zealously” implemented it. They used literary texts (e.g., poems, novels) exclusively to illustrate the content of language education (e.g., grammar, vocabulary, reading comprehension, writing skills), whereas the chief superintendent had mentioned such a use of literature only to a limited extent. At the teachers’ level, literature virtually disappeared, although the circulars had not directed such an outcome.
This scenario draws on a real case documented in an M.Ed. study supervised by the author. The present article, however, does not report or analyze the empirical data from that study. Instead, it treats the case solely as an illustrative example to advance the conceptual theorization of ecosystem constructs and principles of ecosystem theory—with educational leadership within it.
The contribution of this article is thus conceptual rather than empirical. The analytical process unfolded as follows. First, drawing on the literature, core components of ecosystem theory—proximity between actors and interconnectedness, roles, and democratization—were isolated. Second, each component was systematically juxtaposed with the opening scenario and evaluated in terms of its alignment (fit, partial fit, or misfit) with the illustrative case. Partial alignment and misalignment were thus subjected to focused comparison, which surfaced instances in which the scenario exhibited emergent, unexpectedly expansive forms of leadership that exceeded the explanatory reach of existing ecosystem conceptualizations. In the final stage, exploratory refinements—i.e., extensions of existing ecosystem constructs (rather than the introduction of entirely new ones)—were developed in line with the article’s theoretical aim. Despite their exploratory status, these refinements—fine-tuning that has been absent from the literature—provide a more precise basis for future theoretical and empirical work on ecosystemic forms of educational leadership and constitute the article’s principal contribution.
Although alternative frameworks, such as Weberian bureaucracy [
1], street-level bureaucracy [
2], or Weick’s loose-coupling theory [
3], could illuminate aspects of policy implementation and leadership appropriation, an ecosystem perspective uniquely foregrounds complex systemic relations, reciprocity, emergent phenomena, and (at times) the fundamental reconfiguration of top-down policy, rather than traditional linearity and power asymmetries [
4,
5,
6]. Thus, ecosystem theory was selected, despite requiring refinements to fully accommodate the scenario presented in the opening paragraph. The alternative perspectives will nevertheless be revisited in subsequent sections to contrast and critically engage with the ecosystem perspective. Accordingly, a more comprehensive account of the strengths and limitations of ecosystem theory in explaining teacher-driven leadership beyond their customary authority is developed, offering a contribution to the body of literature that relies on a single theoretical lens.
The article’s structure is as follows. First, the literature on human-created ecosystems is reviewed—defining them, explaining their origins, specifying their types, and detailing their essential features. Next, the opening scenario is revisited, highlighting issues that core components of ecosystems—as currently defined—fail to adequately encompass in it. This revisiting also positions ecosystem theory alongside Weberian bureaucracy, street-level bureaucracy, and Weick’s loose-coupling theory, indicating key points of convergence and divergence in how they address the scenario. The article concludes by summarizing its conceptual contributions and by outlining future research directions that arise from the theorizing developed in it.
2. Human-Created Ecosystems
According to Morin [
4], a system is a macro-unit comprising diverse, elementary components. Morin then elaborates this definition, arguing that the actions and reactions among the components, as well as the organization of parts (in the pure structuralist notion) and their bounded, complementary inseparability from one another, constitute systems. The
environment of systems (itself a macro-organization) is an ecosystem [
4], with the prefix “eco-”—deriving from ecology and understood metaphorically—signifying this surrounding context. It is a network of interdependent subsystems that incorporates the macro-, meso-/mid-, and micro-levels, leaving open the question of what constitutes a system’s environment at each scale. Debate further extends to subsystems themselves, where certain scholars equate them with “individuals,” “actors,” and “players” [
6,
7,
8].
As a social theory, ecosystem has its origins in biology (among other fields), which (inter alia) explores the development of, for example, cells into organisms [
4,
5,
6]. Biological ecosystems also foreground natural selection—key to ecosystems when speaking of their degradation on the one hand and regeneration on the other [
4,
6]. Darwin’s “survival of the fittest” is relevant here, as is the issue of competitive advantage, both of which reflect the environmental conditions in which systems and/or their units develop, depending on the level of the phenomenon under study (macro, meso, or micro) [
8,
9].
Despite this biological “root-ness,” human-created ecosystems differ from biological ones. The primary distinction lies in the fact that the former are purposefully engineered—“form around vision and ideas” (p. 42, [
8]). By contrast, biological ecosystems, which develop spontaneously through evolutionary processes, are unplanned and unforeseeable. However, human-created ecosystems, while thought through, also exhibit emergent properties. Such emergence is reflected in their developmental trajectories (i.e., the directions in which they evolve and branch), which cannot be fully predicted [
6].
Human-created ecosystems are observed across various domains, yielding business ecosystems, healthcare ecosystems, service ecosystems, and—of particular relevance to the present article—education ecosystems [
5,
6,
8,
10]. Ecosystems pertaining to humans (i.e., human-related ecosystems rather than human-created) can also occur naturally, as seen in developmental psychology [
7]. It is worth noting that the term “human-created” is used here in an overarching sense. Although it cuts across ecosystem traditions, these traditions remain distinct in their core assumptions and emphases. For example, works on
biological ecosystems, as indicated earlier, typically highlight the developmental trajectories of organismic components, natural selection, and adaptation to physical environmental [
6];
developmental ecosystem scholarship focuses on inner cognitive and emotional processes that shape individuals’ growth from infancy through adulthood as they continually interact with their social environments [
7];
organizational ecosystem research emphasizes, for example, departmental structuring, utility functions, role division, formal and informal routines and practices, competition, and collaboration within and between institutions [
6,
8]; and
educational ecosystem studies (the tradition within which this article is situated) address concerns similar to those of organizational ecosystem research, but in the context of schooling: educational actors (principals, teachers, students), core functions (teaching, learning), departmental divisions by school subject and grade level, and the broader extra-school environment (the Ministry of Education, students’ families) [
5,
10]. “Human-created” may be misleading if the underlying differences among these traditions are overlooked.
In general, and setting aside differences in emphasis among ecosystem traditions, human-created (and human-related) ecosystems comprise several essential components/features/properties, which are presented here (without implying relative importance), with selected ones elaborated in subsequent chapters. First,
hierarchical organization. This component was already mentioned in the Introduction when defining systems and ecosystems, but it is noteworthy that certain ecosystems may be vertical, centralized, “totalitarian” structures [
4,
5]—reflecting traditional linearity, power asymmetries, and top-down relationships. Other ecosystems lean more toward horizontality, foregrounding links among units or actors within a certain hierarchical level [
5], as well as top-down connections that are less “rigid” (p. 48, [
10]), being permeable and receptive to input from subordinate strata [
4,
5,
6,
8,
10].
Reciprocity (to various degrees) across hierarchical levels—micro-, meso-, and macro—is yet another key ecosystem feature.
Human-created (and human-related) ecosystems exhibit hierarchical organization through
nestedness, another core component—i.e., “a set of […] structures, each inside the next like a set of Russian dolls” (p. 50, [
7]). Whereas hierarchical organization refers to the vertical ordering of levels (macro, meso, micro) and the horizontal arrangement of units within a single stratum, nestedness—as conveyed through the Russian dolls metaphor and employed here beyond the original context of these objects—highlights the embedded positioning of units across and within those levels and the ways in which smaller units are contained within larger structures.
Relating to nestedness within institutions (more specifically, industries), Mars et al. [
6] explain that it is primarily evident in overlaps in the operations and priorities of diverse ecosystem entities, rather than through the total embedding or subsuming of smaller entities within larger ones. Per overlaps, Moore [
8] argues that they create coherent ecosystems, whereas ecosystems whose participants conflict (in their interests, aims, and functions) are uncoordinated and disjointed. Thus,
interconnectedness—referring to the ways in which units are linked and the strength of those links—is central in ecosystem theory [
5,
6,
7,
10]. Some even link it to ecosystems’ resilience (see, for example, Ref. [
6]). Whereas interconnectedness focuses on links among units (i.e., the flows of resources, information, and influence that connect them),
segmentation, which is also noted as crucial to ecosystems, emphasizes the existence and maintenance of boundaries (organic, imposed, and/or emergent) among subsystems and units. It calls attention to how these entities are demarcated into “territories with their own aims, social practices, and power structures” (p. 19, [
10]), even when they remain interconnected within the broader ecosystem.
Diversity (ideational, teleological, and/or functional) is therefore integral to ecosystems [
8,
10]. It concerns the variety of aims, perspectives, and functions that different subsystems and units have, while segmentation indicates the existence of distinct boundaries through which they are partitioned.
Ecosystems’ interconnectedness and diversity further implicate the issue of
proximal processes (likewise a defining property), i.e., the question of how near (in terms of “power, content, and direction,” p. 6, [
7]) various units or actors should be to enable effective interactions within ecosystems (see also Ref. [
8] on “combined base,” p. 54). Proximity concerns the distance between units or actors; it should not be confused with interconnectedness, which instead pertains to the very existence of links between them.
Finally, scholars identify
openness and
flexibility as key components of ecosystems. I have already discussed the Darwinian perspective on natural selection, which emphasizes systems’ need—within ecosystems—for continual adaptation (i.e., “bending” existing aims, structures, procedures, and standards) [
4,
6,
8,
9]. In this context, terms like “co-creation” (p. 271, [
6]), “looseness” [
6,
8,
10], and “evolvement” [
7] are invoked. Bronfenbrenner (p. 14, [
7])—although pertaining specifically to the bioecological model—adds “chaos” to this list, in light of the “frenetic activity, lack of structure, [and] unpredictability in everyday activities” that may result from systems’ development in general, and within their environment (their ecosystems) in particular. I assume that such forms of chaos may likewise emerge within social ecosystems, as Bronfenbrenner himself refers to social entities, such as classrooms, when illustrating this aspect of his argument.
At this point, let us return to the opening scenario presented in the Introduction and consider the following “research” (albeit theoretical rather than empirical) questions: (1) Can this scenario be regarded as an ecosystem case? (2) Which of the ecosystems’ features discussed in the literature (and summarized in the present subsection) are evident in the scenario? (3) Given the scenario, do these features require refinement—and, if so, how? (4) In what ways do ecosystem theory and alternative theories (i.e., Weberian bureaucracy, street-level bureaucracy, and Weick’s loose-coupling theory) differ in their ability to explain this scenario?
4. Proximity and Interconnectedness Among Actors
As previously stated, ecosystems rest upon the principle of reciprocal interactions. Thus, the proximity between the actors becomes significant. Clarifying this matter, Bronfenbrenner argues that such interactions can be observed in the “immediate external environment” (p. 6, [
7]) of parent–child or child–child relations, assuming the child as the reference point. It can therefore be inferred that “immediate” denotes an environment in which the two parties are in
direct, proximal contact. Bronfenbrenner (p. 6, [
7]) further notes that the interaction should occur “on a fairly regular basis over extended periods of time” and that the proximity between actors constitutes the “primary engine of development” for the party who is “younger” in the relationship (in terms of power and knowledge). Directionality—i.e., the flow of influence within the relationship—is important.
Focusing on ecosystems in the specific context of business, Moore [
8] reiterates Bronfenbrenner’s logic concerning the gradual development of interactions among actors within ecosystems. Moore’s phrasings—e.g., “As an ecosystem becomes real” (p. 54)—exemplify such evolution, with “as” signaling a process unfolding over time. His addition to Bronfenbrenner lies in specifying
the shared infrastructure (i.e., technologies, designs, contracts, products, services, and additional participants)—what Moore terms the “combined base” (p. 54)—into which reciprocal interactions crystallize. Whereas interactions among actors reflect interconnectedness, the characterization of the infrastructure they develop as “shared” implies proximity, as it presupposes physical, organizational, or relational closeness that enables the coordinated development and ongoing alignment required for such sharing.
In light of these arguments, the opening scenario presents several challenges. First, Bronfenbrenner’s notion of “immediate external environment” (p. 6, [
7]). The chief subject-area superintendent in the scenario was not that kind of environment for the teachers. To recap, this article, while theoretical, draws upon an empirical study in which the institutional structure was as follows: teachers → school leadership (principal and vice-principals) → subject-area superintendent → chief subject-area superintendent. Accordingly, and since we have already established that the scenario describes an ecosystem, a first refinement of existing theory is warranted: the proximity between actors in an ecosystem
does not necessarily have to be to the nearest actor (i.e., the immediate hierarchical “neighbor”—in our case, the school leadership), as long as their interactions remain ongoing and sustain interconnectedness. In other words, the actors, although not required to have first-hand connections, reciprocally respond to one another, exchange information, and work together toward a shared goal and commitment (while potentially also pursuing distinct others) [
10]. Note that reciprocal responses among ecosystem actors may be negative or oppositional, as already argued in the literature [
6,
7,
8]. Unlike the literature, however, the refinement is broad enough to encompass cases where actors
do not exert “equal force” (p. 54, [
7])—a prerequisite for ecosystem interconnectedness according to Bronfenbrenner [
7]. The opening scenario presents such a case. A chief subject-area superintendent and teachers vary in the force they wield, with each having greater force in different spheres—the superintendent in overall policy determination (for example), and teachers in pedagogical practices.
The second challenge the opening scenario poses concerns the argument that interaction between actors in an ecosystem should happen “on a fairly regular basis” (p. 6, [
7]). What constitutes a “fairly regular basis”? Bronfenbrenner, from whom this notion was quoted, refers to the parent–child relationship, where daily—if not hourly or even minute-by-minute—interactions (e.g., caregiving, emotional exchanges, play) are expected. Primarily addressing dyadic communication and situated within the broader discourse of developmental psychology, he also discusses an experimenter–child interaction, where (we may argue) contact is less frequent. The opening scenario, however, extends this two-person arrangement. It also describes a chief subject-area superintendent and her subordinate teachers—actors that seldom meet in person [
11,
12], as, among other reasons, they are not proximate, being separated by several strata within the vertical hierarchy in which they are positioned. Note that “seldom” nonetheless presupposes some degree of interconnectedness. Hence, an additional refinement—establishing that
“fairly regular” contact among ecosystem actors is context-dependent, denoting periodicity rather than frequency—is needed.
The opening scenario also raises a question about the directionality (in Bronfenbrennerian terms, adult → child) that underlies the interconnections among actors in human-created and human-related ecosystems. To recall, Bronfenbrenner [
7] argues that a younger actor within an ecosystem develops through the reciprocal interplay this actor has with the environment in which he nests. In this context, the use of “younger” is unambiguous, referring to age and the developmental asymmetry it implies. As Bronfenbrenner states, the “processes and social interactions [that] the developing person [has are with] one or more others, usually older, occasionally of the same age, and rarely younger” (p. 97, [
7]). In all fairness, it should be noted that Bronfenbrenner [
7] does not address youth exclusively in terms of age. He also refers to the cognitive, socioemotional, and personal qualities, beliefs, and physical growth of the younger actor.
But what happens when we apply “younger” to the opening scenario? Who is “younger” in this relationship—the teachers, nesting within the chief subject-area superintendent’s system level (equivalent to child-adult nestedness)? “Younger” with respect to what? I have already noted that the teachers and the chief subject-area superintendent differ in their expertise. Cannot the chief subject-area superintendent be deemed “younger” when, for example, actual pedagogy is concerned?
Before addressing these questions, a brief clarification is needed. The application of Bronfenbrenner’s terminology to organizational leadership settings necessarily involves a degree of translation, since his original formulation referred to developmental relations between actual adults and children (in the literal sense). Thus, in what follows, “adult,” “child,” and “younger” are employed in an extended metaphorical manner to denote asymmetries in power, expertise, and dependence rather than the literal, age-based meaning of these terms. This extension does not seek to alter Bronfenbrenner’s foundational logic; instead, it adapts his insights to a context in which maturation is expressed through professional growth, knowledge acquisition, and evolving role responsibilities that, in turn, reshape actors’ interconnectedness and proximity.
With this clarification in place, attention can return to the opening scenario. Tracy characterizes the chief subject-area superintendent being “primarily a central office position” (p. 29, [
12]). She also cites studies on teachers’ dissatisfaction with the guidance received from these superintendents with respect to teaching-learning practices, with the superintendents
not being perceived as teacher-coaches [
12]. Similarly, in the historic review he provides, Edwards [
11] argues that a state superintendent (interchangeable with the chief subject-area superintendent from the opening scenario, noting that state superintendents hold either subject-area-specific or non-subject-area roles) is a “profession separate form teachers as soon as 1890s” (p. 8). According to Edwards [
11], state superintendents today serve as policy planners, policymakers, policy executives, implementation evaluators, personnel appointment recommenders, budgeters, and school advisers, rather than as daily teaching practitioners.
Thus, the argument that ecosystems entail younger actors interconnecting with adult/experienced nesting actors can be refined by recognizing
a potential reversal of adult-to-young interconnection linearity, with younger actors assuming the experienced role under certain circumstances. In ecosystem terms, this means that “younger” and “adult” are best understood as relational positions defined by the distribution of expertise, dependence, and influence within a given activity field, rather than as fixed attributes of particular actors [
4,
6]. Building on this premise, the present refinement further proposes that the direction of influence between these positions
can shift continuously and multi-directionally, rather than occurring as a single, one-time reversal. The same actors can therefore occupy the “adult” position in one domain (for example, policy design) and the “younger” position in another (for example, classroom pedagogy), with influence flowing accordingly. This refinement accounts for the inversions illustrated in the opening scenario while remaining grounded in the core assumptions of ecosystem theory.
Notably, Moore indicates that ecosystems can rest on an “equal footing” (p. 58, [
8]) but refers to “large players” (p. 58) at
the same hierarchical level. Other scholars emphasize the existence of multi-membership and nesting, i.e., the embedded positioning of each actor within multiple, sometimes overlapping, wholes simultaneously (e.g., an individual as part of family, friendships, and society), thereby generating dynamic interconnections in which actors “go in and out” of ecosystems [
4,
6]. These scholars nevertheless address linkages wherein flows (e.g., of information or resources), although mutual, unfold sequentially from one actor to another, each time proceeding in a unidirectional course—either top-down or bottom-up. Conversely, the refined argument introduced at the previous paragraph denotes an entangled configuration that departs from traditional verticality, resting instead on fluid interconnections among actors, in which the initiation of processes and the trajectories of influence derive from multiple, concurrently operating participants (see Ref. [
13] for an example of such “spaghetti-like” dynamics, discussed in organizational studies but still underexplored in ecosystem theory, and invoked here with appropriate caution in transferring the metaphor from the context of internet firms to educational ecosystems).
Overall, the refinements articulate a more nuanced understanding of ecosystems than that implied by a straightforward reading of Bronfenbrenner’s original formulation. Together, they show that interconnectedness can be sustained across non-adjacent/non-proximal positions, through context-dependent periodicity of contact rather than sheer frequency, and via influence flows that do not always run from older or more senior actors to younger or less experienced ones. An ecosystemic lens is particularly beneficial here because it is, by its very nature, attuned to reciprocity, interconnectedness, proximal relationships, emergent behaviors, and potential reconfigurations of authority that these refinements bring into view. It can therefore accommodate the kinds of anomalies surfaced in the opening scenario, even if such patterns have not yet been fully theorized within existing ecosystem scholarship. If these dynamics are viewed through alternative theories such as Weberian bureaucracy (which emphasizes formal, vertical hierarchies and the static positioning within them [
1]), street-level bureaucracy (which centers on how frontline actors interpret and enact policy in their immediate contexts, rather than on their place in a wider web of reciprocal relations [
2]), or Weick’s loose-coupling theory (which foregrounds weak ties rather than complex interdependence [
3]), the kinds of anomalies surfaced in the opening scenario—and that the refinements seek to address—would typically go unaddressed.
5. Roles in Educational Ecosystems
Building on the earlier refinement concerning complexity and the co-activity of actors—specifically, the possibility that younger actors may assume experienced roles—the discussion now turns to the question of how roles are defined within ecosystems. If actors may reverse, thereby potentially assuming any role, what insights does the literature offer regarding role distribution and boundaries? How, in turn, can the opening scenario contribute to the literature on educational ecosystems in this respect?
Before discussing roles in educational ecosystems, the term “role” in general requires clarification. According to Turner, in given situations, when people exhibit “a comprehensive pattern of behavior and attitudes” and in doing so “[supply] a major basis for identifying and placing [them] in a group, organization or society,” they assume a role (p. 87, [
14]). Hence, role is linked to social definitions and expectations. A structural–functionalist perspective on role argues that social order dictates those behaviors and attitudes; thus individuals fill prescribed, predetermined, fixed positions [
15,
16]. Conversely, interactionists maintain that role is reciprocal—a real-time emergence occurring as people organize, negotiate, and modify their behavior according to others’ performances and responses [
17].
In ecosystems, scholars attend to roles by considering both interacting parties—as illustrated in Bronfenbrenner [
7], the adult as story-reader and the child as talk-learner (through exposure to the adult’s role). Ecosystems’ developmental feature—the maturation and growth of certain parties through interconnections with others—is evident here, as is the distribution of roles among the interconnected participants.
Attending to the developmental feature of ecosystems, but from a business perspective, Moore [
8] notes that an actor’s present role may be transformed into another role at a later stage. He further states that the roles of the interacting parties may partially overlap. Alongside these observations, Mars et al. [
6] indicate that certain parties (“species,” in their terms, since they attend to biological ecosystems) “play oversized roles in structuring [ecosystems … and] if they are removed, it is thought that the ecosystem as a whole would collapse” (p. 273).
This final insight from Mars et al. [
6], together with the argument concerning role complementarity in Bronfenbrenner [
7], implies that despite the blurring of role boundaries between actors within ecosystems (given the earlier-noted role overlaps), certain role distinctions among them nevertheless persist. In Bronfenbrenner’s previously discussed example, the story-reader and talk-learner roles remain somewhat segmented, regardless of the “permeable boundary” (p. 40, [
7]) in this reciprocal interconnection.
Niemi’s article [
5] on teachers’ roles in ecosystems (which draws closer to the opening scenario than the discussion thus far) elaborates on inter-system segmentation. Niemi introduces the notion of territories (“
segmented territories,” p. 19), arguing that although ecosystem partners and actors interconnect via shared goals, each nonetheless maintains its distinct territory, complete with separate aims, structures, and practices. Her use of “territories” here is intriguing, as it denotes physical spaces (alongside ideational, relational, and functional ones), revisiting boundaries—this time geographical, akin to (yet distinct from) borders [
18]—thereby highlighting the division and distance among educational ecosystem actors. Niemi even alludes to colonization in this respect (as do theorists in non-educational fields; see, for example, Ref. [
8]), aligning with ecosystems’ hierarchical and power structures. In this vein, discourse on territories comprises not only geography but also a metaphorical dimension that pertains to political geography [
19,
20], with scholars noting battles within ecosystems [
8]—further underscoring power-laden relations that such a metaphorical perspective brings into focus.
So how might the issue of segregation and territories inform our understanding of roles in educational ecosystems, and not just any roles, but those of a chief subject-area superintendent and her teachers (with reference to the opening scenario)? As the term “territory” associates with the occupation of space—whether physical or symbolic—and since we now focus on roles: what roles does each party occupy, and what are the boundaries of such roles?
I have already delineated teachers’ pedagogical roles: namely, the teacher as educator—a specialist in classroom theory and methods. To this, Niemi adds roles such as “representatives of a profession” (p. 24, [
5]), promoters of classroom equality and justice, national policy implementers, leaders “in a school community” (p. 26), and change agents (see also Refs. [
21,
22]). Examining these roles reveals that the first and last seemingly overlap with those of the chief subject-area superintendent—the latter also being a professional representative and potentially a change agent. However, the chief subject-area superintendent represents a different profession entirely—her own rather than that of teacher (see Ref. [
11] on this historical professional separation). Regarding the change agent role, Niemi [
5] clarifies that “teachers have very few opportunities to work as change agents because of political conditions, historical roots or deficiencies in teacher education systems” (p. 23). Conversely, chief subject-area superintendents—positioned at the nexus of diverse interest groups (e.g., students, teachers, districts, legislators, administrators)—wield broader authority and decision-making power, and are therefore regarded not merely as change agents but as “reform leader[s]” (p. 8, [
11]), with “reform” denoting a larger scale [
10,
23].
Thus, by enacting the change agent role, chief subject-area superintendents operate at the national, macro level—spanning all hierarchical strata from school to department, district, and nation [
12]—whereas teachers in such a role operate at the micro level of their individual classrooms and/or at the meso level of their respective school [
5]. This role boundary—of acting within a certain territory (whether actual, symbolic, or metaphorical)—is likewise evident in the leadership role listed earlier, which—for teachers—Niemi explicitly confines to the context of “a school community” (p. 26, [
5]).
Within the boundaries of their own classrooms, the teachers described in the opening scenario eliminated literature as a distinct school subject; it became subsumed within language education, losing its subject distinctiveness and serving solely to exemplify and support the content of language education. Seemingly—and considering the italicized phrase—this situation is unproblematic, as classrooms are teachers’ domain. Yet even within that space, teachers do not possess the mandate to eliminate literature as a school subject, as this would constitute leadership in policy matters—a role that rests with the chief superintendent. As leaders, teachers are expected to do no more than determine and direct the pedagogical pathway for implementing that policy.
What explains the fact that actors in an ecosystem (in our case, teachers) assume a role that is not theirs to hold? Several possible answers may be offered. First, and returning to the segmentation of roles in ecosystems, this segmentation may take different forms. In his seminal work, Hargreaves [
21], for example, delineates several types of institutional culture, including the moving mosaic (defined by “blurred boundaries [and] overlapping categories” across departmental levels, p. 238) and the collaborative culture (distinguished by its “family” structure and joint work). Both forms may evoke role blurring, in contrast to, for example, the balkanization culture (also known as the eggcrate arrangement, [
24]), in which identities, including roles, are clearly segmented and anchored within a particular group. It should be noted, however, that the family structure characteristic of the collaborative culture “may involve paternalistic or maternalistic leadership” (p. 238, [
21]), thereby establishing clearer role boundaries than those found in the moving mosaic. Nonetheless, it is possible that role segmentation in educational ecosystems is attuned to the ecosystem’s culture, with less segmented cultures being those in which actors cross traditional role lines and assume roles not formally theirs.
The second explanation, relating to ecosystem actors who take on roles not originally their own, may stem from emotional interplay within hierarchical relations in ecosystems. Bronfenbrenner [
7] suggests that actors occupying higher hierarchical positions, functioning as the leading party in the relationship (e.g., the parent in a parent–child relationship), may respond to subordinate actors with love or, conversely, with hostility. He terms this dynamic “irrational attachment,” wherein “irrational” denotes emotional rather than reasoned behavior. However, since the connections between actors are multidirectional, emotional responses can also move upward across hierarchical levels—an observation not explicitly discussed in Bronfenbrenner [
7]. Applying this argument to encroachment within educational ecosystems, we should add a refinement noting that lower-hierarchy actors (teachers) may seize a role of higher-ranked ones (chief superintendents), whether driven by affection for that role or as an expression of hostility. The refinement will thus be: roles in educational ecosystems may be interchangeable—rather than rigidly segmented—
in accordance with actors’ emotions about the roles fulfilled by their higher-rank leading counterpart. This refinement remains provisional and calls for empirical validation.
Notably, there is an established body of literature on affective leadership, including affective educational leadership, that highlights the role of leaders’ emotional competencies in influencing followers and institutional dynamics (see, for example, [
25,
26]). The refinement extends this work by foregrounding followers’ emotions which make roles interchangeable and may help explain how teachers, within ecosystems, come to assume leadership roles that are not formally theirs.
Finally, the opening scenario shows that the teachers assumed a leadership role of a very specific kind—one concerned with the elimination of literature. In his seminal article on academic disciplines, Becher [
27] distinguishes between hard pure, soft pure, hard applied, and soft applied disciplines, arguing that this categorization is founded on fundamental epistemological and methodological distinctions. In this grouping, literature falls within the soft pure “tribe.” While Becher upholds the equality of disciplines, his “soft” labeling may be interpreted (by others, not Becher) as pertaining to less authoritative disciplines that are readily marginalized. This perspective resonates with scholarship on the prestige granted to certain school subjects but withheld from others [
28], leaving lower-prestige subjects insufficiently safeguarded (thus vulnerable to deprioritization or outright elimination). With respect to the opening scenario, the following refinement to ecosystem theory can therefore be proposed:
lower-hierarchy actors in educational ecosystems may appropriate leadership roles typically reserved for higher-hierarchy actors when addressing domains that are deemed less valuable. This refinement should also be understood as a tentative proposition that calls for further empirical examination as it is derived from a single illustrative case that, by definition, cannot sustain empirical generalization. Pending empirical evidence, the refinement could be extended to encompass roles beyond leadership. It is also worth noting that, although this latter refinement highlights the conditions under which leadership becomes interchangeable in educational ecosystems—namely, in devalued domains—whereas the previous refinement in this section emphasized that emotions may underlie the exchange of leadership between actors, together they introduce into ecosystem theory a more explicit account of when and why formal leadership role boundaries are breached and leadership vested in a particular actor is regarded as flexible.
And, again, the three alternative theories—Weberian bureaucracy, street-level bureaucracy, and Weick’s loose-coupling—are less well suited than ecosystem theory to accommodating the refinements discussed here.
Weberian bureaucracy, for example, rests on fixed offices, role specialization, and stable hierarchies, leaving little conceptual room for leadership to be treated as interchangeable or flexible across hierarchical levels.
Street-level bureaucracy centers on frontline actors primarily as “
extensions of state influence and control” (p. 4, [
2]) [my emphasis], even as it highlights their discretion in implementing policy. It is therefore less attuned to viewing such actors as operating far beyond state-defined policy, whereas the teachers in the opening scenario took the liberty to eliminate an entire school subject, without any such directive from their superintendent. They thus cannot be regarded either as mere policy deliverers or as exercising policy-aligned discretion. Finally,
Weick’s loose-coupling perspective, while attentive to weak ties and local autonomy, tends to foreground structural aspects of decoupling. As such, it would bracket the emotional dynamics introduced in the refinement.
Having examined how teachers, as lower-hierarchy actors, may appropriate leadership roles not formally theirs, we may now wonder what kind of higher-ranking actor would tolerate such incursions into their leadership by self-appointed leaders in subordinate positions. This issue will be addressed in the following subsection.
6. Democratization Across Leadership Levels
When discussing ecosystems, the issue of democratization arises—particularly within the business literature. According to Mars et al. [
6], democratization within business institutions derives from “a move from a world that was underpinned by […] a broadcast or push model, wherein one or few actors […] push products to many unconnected […] customers, to a many-to-many, actor-to-actor world in which actors pull from and collaborate with each other” (p. 271). Today’s network economy flattens hierarchies among businesses. Democratization within business institutions thus refers to the redistribution of decision-making power and initiative across multiple actors who operate collectively and cooperatively on equal footing [
6,
8] (see also Ref. [
29] for a historical overview of the shift from traditional market conditions to contemporary ones). It concerns more than mere interconnectedness or proximity among them.
What holds for businesses, however, does not necessarily apply to other institutions—including educational institutions, which the opening scenario focuses on. In contrast to business institutions, educational institutions have long been, and continue to be, characterized as balkanized [
21,
24,
30]. According to Cookson [
24]—and revisiting the metaphor introduced in the section on boundaries among ecosystem actors—“most schools are organized in an eggcrate manner, [which] makes professional collaborations difficult” (p. 14). Reduced collaboration diminishes democratization, as the latter requires joint participation—also essential to the ecosystem notion—alongside equal weighting and no hierarchical dominance. It should be stated, however, that the balkanized characterization of schools represents only one perspective; as open systems, educational institutions remain responsive to environmental influences, including even market forces [
29,
31]. Zeichner [
31] further observes that both market competition and the marketization of teaching foster a democratic foundation among educational institutions—schools, colleges, and universities.
Yet how democratic can an ecosystem be when state authorities govern it? The opening scenario illustrates such a case. State-sponsored (i.e., public) education reflects what the state deems essential in terms of knowledge, skills, and values, as well as the positioning of state-nominated actors, thus entailing state superiority (as a centralized ruling entity) in these areas [
32,
33]. Nestedness is evident here, as everything is subsumed within the state (i.e., a hierarchical embedding, with the state functioning as a macro-system encompassing meso- and micro-level subsystems); democratization, however, remains elusive.
Notably, educational ecosystems include other types (beyond state-governed ones), such as private, vocational, church-, synagogue-, or mosque-operated, home-based, charter, magnet, co-operative, and online education [
29,
32,
34,
35]. Some preserve a traditional, vertical, pyramidal hierarchy (overseen by a sovereign, hegemonic, centralized authority, albeit not necessarily the state), whereas others (e.g., co-operative types) may assume a more rhizomatic, horizontal configuration, in which power is not “located within a state apparatus but rather [is] everywhere” (p. 68, [
36]). Thus, even within educational ecosystems, the notion of democratization may vary. The opening scenario, however, concerns state education.
State education, too, may exhibit varying degrees of democratization. The literature on ecosystems (encompassing both general and educational contexts) suggests that democratization aligns with leadership types, where “leadership” refers to top-level authorities and the hierarchies they shape (or are shaped by). Certain leaders employ a dictating, exploitative, monitoring, predatory, and shadowing approach, closely related to rigid, vertical, centralized hierarchies and totalitarian functionalism. Others favor dialogic, decentralized, and fluid openness, reflecting horizontal hierarchies [
5,
6,
8,
10]. The authoritarian versus inclusive and egalitarian (or “shared-cum-collaborative,” p. 1014, [
37]) leadership types are thus evident [
38,
39]. Broader scholarship on leadership and governance, as well as the literature on educational leadership, reiterates some of these types (for example, dialogic and shared leadership) when discussing democratic leadership, and also refers to related, albeit not identical, notions such as delegating leadership (which highlights the formal, partial transfer of leadership authority and responsibility to subordinates) and distributed leadership (focusing on the diffusion of leadership authority, roles, responsibilities, and functions across multiple actors) [
40,
41].
Returning to the question of how subordinates (i.e., teachers in the opening scenario) assume leadership in matters not theirs to lead (in our case, the realm of educational policy), we may argue that this happens because of a top-level leader (the chief subject-area superintendent) who grants her subordinates such latitude. The delegating leadership type may apply here, although the opening scenario does not indicate whether the chief subject-area superintendent is in fact a delegating leader. Similarly, the opening scenario leaves unclear whether the chief subject-area superintendent fostered discussion of her policy (as democratic leaders do) that facilitated the resultant elimination of literature as a school subject. Equally plausible is that the chief superintendent is an autocratic leader unaware of the teachers’ independent leadership concerning the elimination of literature, with the latter stemming not through democratic processes but from poor communication between ecosystem “components” (see Ref. [
10] on smooth versus roughened information flow).
The use of the plural “subordinates” and “teachers” in the previous paragraph foregrounds a fundamental question that has not yet been addressed: How many actors must an ecosystem include—or take into account—to be considered democratized? Both ecosystem theory and educational ecosystem theory refer to “many” actors—such as Moore’s “hundreds of entrepreneurs” when considering democratic cooperation and collective action in ecosystems (p. 55, [
8]) and teacher–students relations, with “students” in the plural and the relation potentially democratically grounded [
5]—yet they leave this multiplicity conceptually unspecified. With respect to the opening scenario, when unpacking the “many,” we can offer the following refinement:
a higher-ranking leader within an ecosystem (i.e., the chief subject-area superintendent)
will treat subordinate leadership initiatives in a democratic manner when
these are undertaken collectively, in the form of
a group action (as in, for example, “all teachers enact the same, single leadership action”). Collectivity here can cover either organized or coincidental group action. The higher-ranking leader may be less tolerant of excessively numerous initiatives, as happens when the “many” is dispersed into the individuals comprising it. Notably, seminal educational scholars commented that “no major social institution has been more subjected to pressure for change than the public school system” (p. 9, [
42]) and that it is almost impossible for school leaders to function amidst these constant, fast-paced innovations [
43]. It is not unreasonable, then, to hypothesize that a higher-ranking leader in an educational ecosystem might accommodate the “many” (per the refinement, construed as a unified countable entity) rather than fragmented actions emanating from multiple distinct subordinates. Nonetheless, further empirical work is needed to substantiate the refinement.
Weberian bureaucracy, street-level bureaucracy, and Weick’s loose coupling are less suitable than ecosystem theory for capturing the nuances that the refinement highlights about democratization.
Weberian bureaucracy, with its emphasis on vertical control and adherence to “general rules which are more or less stable” (p. 958, [
1]), is ill-equipped to conceptualize both democratic leadership styles that recognize the “many” as equals and non-routine actions, such as the elimination of literature as a school subject by teachers in the opening scenario, given that teachers, as noted, are not macro-level policymakers.
Street-level bureaucracy, for its part, focuses on how frontline actors exercise discretion in ways that reshape policy-in-practice and can therefore account for the “teachers’ elimination of literature” case, even though the formal policy preserved literature as a school subject. However, this theory is less concerned with higher-ranking leaders (such as the chief subject-area superintendent) and with the conditions, specified in the refinement developed in this section, under which they accept or resist such democratic initiatives. Consequently, democratization
across macro, meso, and micro levels—an aspect that ecosystem theory explicitly foregrounds—can be overlooked within a street-level bureaucracy framework.
Weick’s loose-coupling perspective illuminates how formal policy and local practice may become partially decoupled and thus helps to describe the divergence between the superintendent’s circular and teachers’ classroom behavior. Its primary focus is on the strength of couplings between institutional elements—an interest that is also considered in this section when discussing the possibility that the elimination of literature went unnoticed because of weak communication links between teachers and the chief subject area superintendent. Adopting an ecosystemic view, however, provides a broader framework encompassing the agency of subordinates and the conditions under which a higher-ranking leader would democratically accommodate agency of this kind.
7. Discussion
This theoretical article examined a scenario in which subordinates (teachers) assumed a leadership role in an area of responsibility (i.e., educational policy-making) traditionally reserved for their superior—a chief subject-area superintendent. Building on this scenario, the article offers refinements to the existing literature on ecosystems, with a particular focus on educational settings. The refinements proposed extend the literature through three interrelated perspectives (with the italics that follow indicating the specific aspects in which existing ecosystem theory is refined). First, they address the structural and relational configuration of educational ecosystems by showing that proximity between actors need not be to the nearest hierarchical neighbor, as long as ongoing interaction sustains interconnectedness, and by clarifying that “fairly regular” contact among ecosystem actors is context-dependent and denotes periodicity rather than sheer frequency. Second, they illuminate the dynamics of roles and hierarchies by suggesting that roles in educational ecosystems can be continuously interchangeable in multi-directional ways between younger and more experienced actors, and that the appropriation of leadership roles may be driven by subordinates’ emotions toward the roles fulfilled by higher-ranking leaders in domains deemed less valuable. Third, they refine the link between leadership and democratic principles by proposing that higher-ranking leaders may be more inclined to treat subordinate leadership initiatives democratically when these initiatives are undertaken collectively, as group action.
These refinements, with their italicized sections, constitute the conceptual contribution of this article. Although articulated as “rules,” they should be considered exploratory, with limits to their transferability across educational ecosystems and ecosystems more broadly. The opening scenario is derived from a state school—a centralized bureaucratic ecosystem. Conceptually, refinements that presuppose a strongly stratified environment—most notably those concerning lower-hierarchy actors’ appropriation of leadership roles, but only in domains deemed less valuable, and those addressing the question of democratization (with “question” signaling that democratization is far from assured)—may be more specific to centralized educational ecosystems. By contrast, refinements that foreground non-adjacent proximity, context-dependent periodicity rather than fixed frequency of interaction, reversals and multidirectional shifts in actors’ positions, and the emotional underpinnings of role interchangeability may be more applicable to educational ecosystems that are characterized by ongoing, shifting relationships, with the co-operative ecosystem discussed in this article being one such example. The present article, however, is theoretical, advancing conceptual refinements rather than empirical generalizations. Accordingly, a straightforward association of specific refinements with particular types of educational institutions is untenable at this stage and can only be clarified through empirical investigation.
The article’s differentiation of ecosystem theory from Weberian bureaucracy, street-level bureaucracy, and Weick’s loose-coupling theory—regarding their respective explanatory capacities for interconnectedness, proximal relationships, roles, and democratization in complex systems—represents an additional conceptual contribution. This is not to claim ecosystem theory’s universal superiority. Rather, Weberian bureaucracy is better suited for analyzing formal hierarchical structures and functional specialization within administrative structures; street-level bureaucracy for examining frontline discretion at the point of delivery, and Weick’s loose-coupling theory for understanding institutional fragmentation and weak interdependencies. And please note that, while the present article explicitly contrasts ecosystem theory with these three theories, related perspectives such as distributed leadership, sensemaking, and complexity leadership lie beyond its scope (notwithstanding a brief mention of distributed leadership when addressing democratization in ecosystems). As argued in this article, ecosystem theory’s contribution resides in its foregrounding of complex nested relations, mutual responsiveness, and emergent dynamics. Ecosystem theory can include distributed patterns, but its distinctive emphasis is on locating these distributions within a wider web of actors and institutions
beyond a single organization. Sensemaking focuses on how leaders and followers interpret ambiguity and construct meaning. Ecosystem theory instead centers on structural and relational configurations—who and what is connected to whom, through which ties, at which levels—and (in our case) how those patterned interdependencies enable leadership practice. And while ecosystem theory acknowledges leadership as complex and entangled relationships, it re-anchors such leadership in this broader network and its cross-boundary interdependencies [
41,
44]. Again, the aim here is not to present ecosystem as the definitive lens on leadership. It is also not to suggest that these additional theories exhaust all relevant alternatives. In principle, comparisons between ecosystem theory and other leadership frameworks could continue indefinitely. The contribution of this article lies in showing that comparative work itself is important, insofar as it enables the ongoing reconsideration of ecosystem theory and its positioning within the broader theoretical field.
The argument developed here is therefore a starting point rather than an endpoint for theorizing ecosystemic leadership. The article invites further theoretical and empirical reflection to deepen and extend its conceptual contributions. The following subsection outlines five such future research directions.