Today, we have no learning programmes. We
have no learning methods, no learning systems. There are no learning
professionals.
Instead, we have education programmes,
education methods. We have education systems and education professionals.
We have entirely forgotten learning and in
its place we have become attached to an impostor – education. Education is the
cuckoo in the nest. It grows, insatiable, pushing learning aside – starving it,
smothering it.
Education is the astrology to learning’s
astronomy. Today everybody wants to talk about astrology and has entirely forgotten
that there was ever such a thing as astronomy.
And so it is almost impossible today for me
to talk about learning, because to begin that conversation I would have to
start by introducing some uncertainty in your mind about beliefs that you have
held dear for a lifetime. I would have to introduce doubt – a doubt that
perhaps what you believed learning to be is in fact not learning, but an impostor
– education. When people talk today about ‘learning’ they are really only
talking about ‘education’; they have nothing to say about learning.
Though I can express the answers to these
questions simply, you may struggle to accept them – so deep has our attachment to the
educational waxwork become.
So what is this educational impostor, and
what is the truth about learning?
The mirage is the idea that learning is
knowledge transfer. This paradigm has led us to believe that human minds store
information much as a book or computer stores information, and that it can be
transferred from one person to another by being stated. So, for example, a
person stands in front of a group and says ‘A lion is a dangerous animal’ and
they store this information in their heads. And we imagine variations of this
process (elearning, MOOCs, modules and micro-learning etc.) and we call it
‘learning’ – but really we should call it ‘content dumping’.
So what is learning, really?
Learning describes our ability to store our
(emotional) reactions to experiences, and to adjust our behaviour based on
those reactions. A person tells a story about being attacked by a lion, and the
story moves us. Our emotional reactions are stored, and it affects how we
behave. Furthermore we can use these reactions to conjure up a reconstruction
of the experience.
This mechanism has been the essence of learning
since learning first existed. It is an elaboration of a simple response –
homeostasis. With homeostasis an organism tries to optimize its environment –
for example heading away from environments that are too hot or cold. With
learning, an organism encodes the
reaction it had to different environments – representing them internally – and
gains considerable survival advantage. It can say ‘when I stayed here before, I
felt cold’.
In his book, ‘Affective Neuroscience’ Jaak Panksepp writes “efficient learning
may be conceptually achieved through the generation of subjectively experienced
neuroemotional states that provide simple internalized codes of biological
value that correspond to major life priorities for the animal.”[1]
Human learning is quantitatively but not
qualitatively different. We have emotional reactions to hot and cold, but also
more complex things – clothing, smartphones and the sound of insects buzzing.
Our reactions are initially hard-wired from birth, but our neurological
plasticity gives us the ability to develop sophisticated and unique affective
responses to all manner of things.
Probably as soon as I described learning as
an emotional reaction, it made you feel uncomfortable. You have been led to
believe that emotional reactions are unsophisticated and unsuitable for serious
study.
We have grown so used to thinking of
emotions as gross states – such as ‘happy’, ‘sad’ and so forth, that we
struggle to comprehend the fundamental role they play in cognition. But
consider, for a second, the sound of a bumblebee and that of a mosquito. I
don’t doubt you have distinct emotional reactions – though you would find them impossible
to articulate clearly.
In 1949 Donald Hebb made an important
discovery. He discovered that as you experience the world your neurons – your
brain cells – rewire themselves. More specifically ‘neurons that fire together,
wire together’. You brain somehow reconfigures itself as you experience things,
forming new connections to reflect the pattern of firing.
But what is it doing? What are these new
connections? Is it storing the way things look, is it storing the way things
sound – maybe it is storing the meaning of things (schema)? The verdict is now
clear: it is not storing any of those things; our memories are far too
unreliable.
Instead, it is storing how things make you
feel. Your reactions. Your ‘neuroemotional states’. These affective responses
are more subtle and malleable than you can imagine. You have different
emotional reactions to different haircuts, different colours. Some people care
about architecture, some care about football scores. You store these reactions
and use them to conjure up a memory. You don’t store information or episodes,
you store how those things make you feel. What matters to you – what you have
an emotional reaction to you – determines what you see, what you remember.
And so there is and never was a distinction
between thought and emotion. Plato set us on the wrong path. There are only
emotions and more complicated emotions; a reaction you have that you call
‘chair’ and a subtly different reaction you call ‘18’. All your memories, all your
thoughts, all your decisions are emotional reactions. You tell stories as a way
of stringing these emotions together. Your words refer not to objects, but to
what you feel about them. What makes you and I different is the things we care
about – the things we react to. Fundamentally, we use the same cognitive
process as sea slugs: (emotional) reaction.
Once more, as I write this I know many of you
are experiencing an emotional reaction – most probably a rejection, a desire to
argue and dispute. This is the reaction that creatures commonly have when their
territory is invaded. Dogs bark. Humans have a sort of ‘intellectual territory’;
as social creatures they become attached to shared beliefs & conventions
and defend these vigorously when challenged. They feel an emotional reaction to
their beliefs being challenged, and they form this reaction into sounds which
they call ‘counter-argument’ and so forth.
When we listen to radio debates, typically
two people who take opposing views argue the case. Almost never do they concede
defeat. This would be odd if people really were rational creatures, if they
were truly arguing – but instead they merely retrench their existing position.
Hence, it is highly unlikely that you will change your position based on what I
write here – however compelling my arguments – because fundamentally your
positions are held emotionally, not rationally.
But let me return to learning and
education: learning is not what you thought it was. When you learn, you store your
emotional reactions to a story, a statement, an experience, an observation. You
can use these stored reactions to reconstruct that experience, but it will
always be a confabulation to some degree.
You might wonder how you can reconstruct
all the detail that you do, just by using your emotional reactions. Our mind
plays tricks on us. Try this: draw a
five-pound note (or ten dollar bill) from memory. Resist the temptation to look
it up, or produce one. Just draw what you remember. Chances are, you will be
shocked by how inaccurate your memory is. Try something else with which you are
intimately familiar – such as, for example, the front of your house. There is a
good chance that you won’t even get the number of windows correct.
In 2016 the company signs.com gave 156
Americans the challenge of drawing famous brand logos from memory – Starbucks
for example[2].
Again, you can try it yourself if you like. The results reveal shocking verging
on obscene levels of inaccuracy for many of the participants. Pretty much the
only thing they consistently got right was the colour green and the presence of
a woman.
Researchers including Elizabeth Loftus and
Daniel Kahneman have begun cataloguing the ‘inaccuracies’ of the human mind. In
essence, they have begun to describe how an affective cognitive system works,
exposing cracks in our Platonic paradigm. We do not remember what we think we
remember.
But I am not going to go over all that
again. If you feel so strongly attached to the conventional view, then no
amount of conflicting research will sway you. Instead I am going to talk about
the implications for education – by which I mean, what education would look
like if we actually understood learning:
The first thing to note is that whilst
humans begin life with very similar sets of concerns – things they care about –
these will quickly begin to diverge depending on experience. So whilst sexual
stimuli are a pretty good bet for an advertising campaign, if you really want
to reach me it is better to know that I am more interested in robot hoovers
than Kardashians.
Two people on a train journey will remember
different things: one may recall the delightful progression of architectural
styles, another the flora & fauna. Two students sitting in a class will
remember different things depending on what they care about.
So the first principle must be this: new
concerns build on existing concerns. If we wish to change what a person cares
about, in order that they will react to things they didn’t before (i.e. to
learn), then we will need to know what they care about today and use that as a
starting point. By the time people enter the educational system, their concerns
will already have diverged considerably, and we must take the time to
understand precisely how.
For example, as student who doesn’t care
about mathematics will have little reaction to a mathematics lecture, and
likely describe it as ‘boring’. They will learn next to nothing.
But if we know that they are interested in
becoming an entrepreneur, and we can tell stories that place mathematical
principles in an affectively significant context, then we can expect the
student to remember.
In normal life this process is called
‘conversation’. We take time to understand what another person cares about,
then we tell stories that relate to their concerns. An interaction where
someone just talks about the things they care about is called a ‘lecture’ and
these people are described as a ‘bore’ (or a ‘lecturer’).
Once again: an educational process is one
in which we shape the concerns of an individual, typically with a view to
aligning their individual concerns with activities that are acceptable or
valued by society. A person who delights in cutting the heads of insects may go
on to be a surgeon, for example.
We can only construct an effective,
affective education system by accurately mapping the things that people care
about at the start of the process, then using this as a key on which to build
new patterns of concern. This is how digital marketing strategies succeed in
selling you stuff – they refine their understanding of what you care about, in
order to increase the chance you will acquire products.
What students are concerned about is
important, since it determines what they react to – which in turn decides how
experiences are encoded. So we should never have a ‘curriculum’, nor ‘topics’
instead (and much as Piaget described) people should be allowed to explore
challenges and types of activity to which they respond[3].
In a well-formed educational system, a child
who is interested in, say, tackling famine in Africa might draw in information
from a range of areas – language, history, economics, agriculture, geography,
design and so on – but only in service of the overriding concern. To just spray
people with information cannot be a good approach. Obviously, good teachers
make an effort to bring these subjects to life for people – but today’s model
is inherently topsy-turvy.
The second principle is this: an
educational process will correctly employ ‘push’ or ‘pull’ techniques to shape
learning. Since an individual’s concerns govern their encoding of experience
there are two distinct classes: firstly, those where an individual is already
concerned about something (the ‘pull’ condition). In this case, they will have
a strong reaction to related experiences. For example, someone who works in
learning and cares deeply about learning will find a paper on learning theory
memorable and moving, whilst someone else may find it boring and forgettable.
This ‘pull’ condition is typical when we are Googling information. Typically we
Google things that we care about – our search is a response to some pressing
concern. This is why it matters very little that the response is simply text.
We never Google an elearning module for example.
In a corporate context, this principle
accounts for the significance of user-centred design and the ‘resources not
courses’ approach. Generally the most effective way to drive learning and
performance improvement will be to take time to find out what concerns people
have, and develop simple resources to help address them. For example if a
leader is concerned about levels of engagement within their team, a simple
resource titled ’15 Ways to Boost Team Engagement’ will likely be welcomed.
In the second condition – ‘push’ we must
create new concerns by building on the existing ones, so that learning can take
place. It is worth pointing out that we are not trying to ‘force knowledge into
a person’s head’ (which is the conventional educational paradigm) but instead
creating the sets of concerns that will cause them to encode experience. People
are resourceful learners when sufficiently concerned – everyone is capable of
‘self-directed’ learning (note that ‘concerns’ and ‘motivations’ are not at all
the same – if you were to suffer a nosebleed I would likely remember it, though
it would be odd to describe that as a ‘motivation’).
Here we may use the time-honoured
techniques; play, storytelling, observation, and practical experience to shape
what people care about. Each of these techniques is effective because – and
only because – of their affective dimension. ‘Learning by doing’ is effective
because the consequences of our actions impact us emotionally, storytelling
because it carries the emotional significance, observation because we mirror
the emotions of those we observe and so on. Play is a condition where we
deliberately attenuate the emotional consequences in order to promote learning
– you may feel upset that you have crashed the flight simulator, but nobody has
died.
It is sometimes said that we learn best
from mistakes – but this is not strictly true: we learn from mistakes whose
consequences we feel (many mistakes
go unnoticed after all).
We should not test people on what they
know, but instead what they can do. The human mind is not designed to memorise
facts (for reasons outlined above). Getting young people to do this involves
abusing cognitive systems quite horribly – for example using rote learning or
threatening people with beatings or tests. This barbaric ‘educational’ activity
will more often than not dramatically reduce the appetite for learning,
rendering people inflexible as adults and fearful of learning contexts. For
example, when employees are told that they must undertake some learning their
first question is most commonly ‘will there be a test?’.
We must take the time to understand what
matters to people, and allow them to explore challenges of increasing
complexity, in order that their concerns may develop and diverge in ways which
ensure that their life will be experienced as purposeful - as doing something
that matters.
The Future of Learning:
It should come as no surprise that since
people have the wrong idea about learning, they have the wrong idea about the
future of learning: ‘we will all need to
learn more in future!’ they say – but it is already clear that the future
is set on a course of learning elimination.
The most significant advancement in
learning that one can imagine is for future education systems to support rather
than suppress learning. That this would be a revolution, is an understatement.
But it may already be too late for such a revolution to take place: all around
us learning is already being eliminated. Take, for example, the role of the
London Taxi driver who, until recently, was required to memorise every street
in London (a process typically taking several years) before being certified to
drive a cab. Then came GPS – a system that externalized that knowledge,
allowing almost anyone capable of driving a vehicle to be a taxi driver. Soon
we will not even need to learn how to drive a car. Fewer people know how to
cook with each passing year.
That people have not spotted the
inevitability or pervasiveness of this trend is due to their fundamental
misunderstanding of learning. Learning – as a homeostatic mechanism – seeks to
optimize our environment. With technology we have unprecedented ability to
transform our environment: we no longer have to grow our own food – first came
the supermarket, then home delivery, and now with AI assistants in our homes we
have only to speak the name of the food we want and it appears. Instantaneous
machine translation will soon remove the need to learn another language. Quite
soon we will have no need to learn to read or write. This is not a ‘side
effect’ of technology: this is precisely the essence of technological progress
– to eliminate learning. This is why a 3-yr old can use an iPad, but not a
personal computer from the year 2000.
Our reckless optimists believe that somehow
learning is an essential part of the human spirit – forgetting that even Piaget
understood that learning takes place principally to achieve equilibrium. The
more we externalize learning – the more we create technology that removes the
need for learning, the less we will learn. It may be that learning persists only
in the form of a leisure pursuit; time will tell.
It should be stated clearly that learning
itself does not change. It has not changed for millennia, and will not change
for millennia to come – but the environment in which we learn is changing
dramatically. Many of us will have lived thorough an era where we could observe
people or hear stories from the other side of the world – through television.
And whilst the nature of storytelling or observational learning remain
unchanged, our exposure to behaviours and stories has grown exponentially. So
perhaps it is worth considering some of the interactions between unchanging
human learning and ever-changing technology that we are likely to witness in
our lifetimes.
In the immediate future, there are some
interesting applications of technology aligned to the ‘push’ and ‘pull’
approaches outlined above. Let me first describe ‘pull’ applications:
When I travel across London, I frequently
make use of the London Underground Map – indeed I have done so for many years.
This map is a useful resource, removing my need to memorise the entirety of the
network. But even better than a map would be guidance, and all that is needed
to transition from resource to guidance is contextual information – for example
the GPS in your car stores road maps, but also needs information about your current
location and destination to offer guidance.
Performance guidance is the future for
organisational performance. With performance guidance anyone, of almost any
level of capability, can perform any task expertly. Currently many of us use
GPS, but employees in future will use technologies such as Amazon’s Alexa or
Apple’s Siri to guide their activity. Imagine GPS for everything that you do. For
manual tasks the integration of Virtual and augmented reality (such as
Microsoft’s Hololens) will enable people to be procedurally guided where a task
is not suitable for automation. The benefits for businesses are considerable –
a massive reduction in wage costs due to the reduced need for skilled labour,
and the near-elimination of learning curves – enabling them to cope with
ever-shorter employee tenures coupled with an increase in market volatility and
organisational change.
Some of you may have spotted that this
trend has more to do with removing
the need for human capability rather than building it. So what, if anything will
technology offer to enhance learning?
Here, virtual reality and augmented reality
are very promising. Many people struggle to understand what it is that makes
these technologies significantly better than video. The answer is their affective
dimension. When one watches someone doing something on video the affective
impact is reduced by virtue of being merely observation. With virtual and
augmented reality the mind is tricked into feeling that you are ‘really there’.
If we use the flight simulator as an analogy; VR and AR enable us to build a
flight simulator for anything – to enable people to practice activities and
learn by doing – to play in a space where we are not dependent on imagination
alone for affective significance.
Returning to the topic of education
(whether state-funded or corporate education) there is tremendous potential for
us to realize a virtual, digital, exploratory environment – one in which
learners can explore and develop their concerns through direct experience of any
challenge we can imagine – from preserving the rainforest to conducting brain
surgery.
However, in case it is not obvious, the two
approaches outlined above stand in opposition to one another – and it is now
fair to say that there is a race, if not a war, between the two. Why develop an
education system in which people can develop their capability through
challenges and hands-on experience, if our plan is to eliminate the need for
this level of capability? It is hard not to envisage a future where only the
elite are highly-paid, and where pay-to-learn digital learning opportunities may
be open to all – but only the very best can out-compete the machines. This
‘long tail’ marketplace is increasingly commonplace in industries such as music
and books.
I wish I had better tidings; but I have
always preferred an unpopular truth to a popular impostor.
[1]
Panksepp, J.
(1998) Affective Neuroscience: The
Foundations of Human and Animal Emotions, p. 55, Oxford University Press.
[2] Branded in memory;
1500 drawings reveal our ability to remember famous logos. https://www.signs.com/branded-in-memory/ (Last Accessed
30/09/2018)
[3]
As an aside,
Piaget was on the right tracks in describing assimilation and accommodation,
underpinned by schemas. His mistake was to assume that these schemas were
semantic, rather than affective. It is hard to imagine mice having semantic
schemas, after all.
Image: Marianna Mercado
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