A Tale of Two Evaluations: Russ-Eft and Preskill vis a vis Kirkpatrick in the Organizational Spotlight

William Shakespeare

Suppose you’ve ever found yourself lost in a conference room, squinting at a post-training survey and wondering whether anyone learned anything beyond how to access the coffee machine. In that case, you’ve probably asked yourself: How do I know if this training actually worked? Enter stage left: Russ-Eft’s and Preskill’s “Evaluation in Organization” and Kirkpatrick’s “Four Levels of Training Environment”; the Hamlet and Macbeth of organizational evaluation. As we compare these two, with a nod and a wink to critics like Robert Kaufman, Will Thalheimer, and James Brinkerhoff, let’s see if we can wring some wisdom from their pages without falling into the tragic flaw of our own evaluative hubris.

Scene One: Unpacking Russ-Eft’s “To Be or Not To Be” in Evaluation

Russ-Eft and Preskill prefer to view evaluation as a living, breathing process. Their approach is less checklist, more Shakespearean soliloquy. Rather than seeking the “one best test,” they dig deep into context, collaboration, and the messiness of real organizational life. Imagine an evaluator wandering Main Street in Verona, asking “What do learners actually need? How does this fit within the organization’s dramas and dreams?”

Russ-Eft's evaluation is multi-dimensional and participatory. It goes beyond the binary “Did it work?” and asks, “How does it work, for whom, and why?” Data isn’t just collected; it’s discussed. Evaluation is less an autopsy and more a lively debate. The process is cyclical: asking, learning, reflecting, acting, then asking again, much like Shakespeare’s characters, who are always in pursuit of meaning through conversation and contradiction.

Still, the model is not without its critics. Robert Kaufman argues that the Russ-Eft approach, with its tendency toward methodological meandering, sometimes muddles outcomes in favor of endless process. Kaufman prefers adding a “Mega” level, keeping one eye on societal impact and avoiding what he calls “micro myopia.” Will Thalheimer, meanwhile, quips that Russ-Eft can overcomplicate what might otherwise be a straightforward evaluation, sacrificing clarity for scholarly storytelling. And James Brinkerhoff? He’d like to see a bit less talk and a bit more action, please.

Scene Two: Kirkpatrick’s Four Levels—A Masquerade of Metrics

If Russ-Eft is Hamlet, pondering existential complexities, Kirkpatrick’s Four Levels are Macbeth… a bold, structured march from Level One (“Reaction”) to Level Four (“Results”). It is simple, familiar, and almost Shakespearean in its tragic overconfidence that everything can and should fit neatly into four acts.

Level One, “Reaction,” is the audience applause at intermission. Did the learners like the training? Kirkpatrick famously said, “Smile sheets do not signify success.” Yet organizations love them. Level one evaluations are cheap, fast, and something that appears to be meaningful as results move up the food chain.

Level Two, “Learning,” checks actual knowledge gained. Do the learners remember their lines, or have they memorized a soliloquy that ends at curtain call? Then comes Level Three, “Behavior,” which checks if learners change their actions at work or merely whisper to themselves in back corners.

Flags wave at Level Four: “Results.” This is where leadership wants tangible proof—higher sales, lower costs, increased productivity. But if the plot twist goes unnoticed, if causality is murky, all the world’s a stage with nobody watching.

Robert Kaufman critiques Kirkpatrick for being overly focused on organizational objectives and ignoring the larger impact on society. Kaufman’s Mega Level asks: “Are we doing good for the world?” Will Thalheimer insists there is too much faith put in self-reported progress, calling for more rigorous outcome tracking, less reliance on the popularity contest of reaction scores. Brinkerhoff, ever the pragmatist, wants developmental evaluation sprinkled throughout, not just at the end. He proposes an ongoing feedback loop, not a final exam.

Scene Three: A Shakespearean Debate—Comparing and Contrasting

Where Russ-Eft leans on dialogue, context, and iteration, Kirkpatrick loves his four neatly stacked levels. Russ-Eft’s model revels in messiness and asks more questions than it answers. Kirkpatrick’s approach offers a guaranteed map, but critics say too often it is a treasure hunt in an empty field.

Russ-Eft allows the evaluator to be a player, interacting with the cast, shifting with the scene. Kirkpatrick puts the cast on stage, lights the levels, and asks, “Did the audience clap? Did the play make a profit?”

Both approaches, like Shakespeare’s comedies and tragedies, offer moments of clarity and confusion. Russ-Eft can drown in complexity; Kirkpatrick risks oversimplification. Kaufman urges both camps to look beyond the castle walls to see the kingdom. Brinkerhoff reminds us, “Never let the process outlive the purpose.”

Scene Four: Practical Wisdom for Today’s Evaluators

Here’s the playbill for the modern training evaluator, curtain raised:

• Do not be seduced by the ease of the Four Levels. Smile sheets are nice, but they are no substitute form eaningful change.

• Avoid getting lost in endless Russ-Eftian inquiry; know when to close the book and act.

• Ask yourself and your stakeholders: Who benefits from this training? Who is missing from this dialogue?

• Keep Kaufman’s Mega Level in mind—if you are not improving the wider world, is it truly worth the effort?

• Heed Thalheimer’s call for evidence and Brinkerhoff’s plea for iteration.

• And if at any point you find yourself alone on the evaluative stage, pondering whether to measure reaction or results, performance or participation, remember this from the Bard: “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” Every evaluation, like every performance, is shaped as much by the cast and audience as by the structure behind the scenes.

Final Curtain

In the end, evaluating training is equal parts science, art, and a bit of stagecraft. Whether you follow Russ-Eft’s winding path or Kirkpatrick’s four-part play, wisdom comes from listening, questioning, balancing, and sometimes laughing at the complexity of it all. The critics will never fall silent, but maybe, with a nod to Shakespeare, we take the best from each model, recognize their flaws, and write a new story—one where learning is measured not just by numbers, but by the light it sparks in the real world.