Agency vs Efficiency (The AI learning gambit)

A continuum with Agency and Efficiency at either end.
The gambit we take each time we incorporate AI and technologies of cultural production in our work. We choose where we land on a continuum of agency and efficency.

There are many hopes and fears surrounding AI which clip into the recurring cycle of emerging technologies, especially those which are located in, or adjacent to, cultural production (and therefore impinge on education). ‘Classic’ concerns around cheating, authenticity and an erosion of critical thinking have come to the fore when, for example, internet search, Wikipedia and smartphones etc. became widely accessible. The debates which ensue often fail to unpick convenience (if it’s easy and immediate it must be bad) with more substantial shifts in how we access, use and produce knowledge/work. 

However, AI ups and broadens the game once again. It amplifies and accelerates these classic concerns while expanding the possible use cases. Discussions with colleagues from the Edinburgh Futures Institute highlighted that the broad applicability of AI, the fact that it can be used in so many contexts, put it in pole position in the moral panic / furtive adoption stakes. So while some concerns are ‘generic’ to any emerging tech in the cultural production space we have to acknowledge that AI is powerful, full of risk, ethically fraught, and everywhere. It demands we make sense of it relative to our practices in a way which is more refined than ‘use it but also be critical’ – which is where quite a lot of progressive university guidance lands.

Balancing the generic with the specific

The question I’ve been grappling with is how to articulate the specific pros and cons of using AI in a manner which also acknowledges its standing at the front of a long line of technologies which have spun the hype-and-fear-cycle in similar ways. I think the ‘Agency vs Efficiency Gambit’ help here, but first I want to lay out some education and technology context.

Learning that does not converge on a ‘correct’ answer

At the University of the Arts London we are mainly focused on the use of technology in project-based work, where students are developing creative outputs and reflecting on process. What they produce might not always be original in the strictest sense but it will be a novel journey for them, with not entirely predictable outcomes. This is in contrast to learning which converges on an agreed answer or a process, where there is a predictable outcome which might, nevertheless, take a lot of work to attain.

Where learning is developmental, and the ‘goal’ is a change in the person (learning as becoming if you will) the process of learning itself is not primarily interested in efficiency in producing an academic or creative output. The output is only relevant in so far as it facilitates becoming. (see, for example, the educational benefits of failing)

Doing the thing and questioning the thing

Given this, we are much less interested in our students being efficient than them taking the time to be critical and reflective. This is not to say that there aren’t more, or less, efficient ways of learning but we want our students to do the thing and question the thing (not uncommon in higher education). We want our students to retain their personal agency to enable their questioning and consciously position their practice relative to the tools and tech they might use.

Technology is efficiency

One definition of technology is that it is a mechanism that allows you to get more work done in less time or with less effort, AKA efficiency. It’s confusing to be presented with a technology which makes a process less efficient. We all have stories where this is the case, but they are presented in terms of frustration and disappointment.

My point is that if we use technologies of cultural production to gain efficiency we become less active in the process, and lose agency. 

This doesn’t extend to all technologies. It might not matter too much if we are digging a hole with a mini-digger rather than a spade (not technologies of cultural production) but if we are generating text for an essay or a clutch of ideas to get us past the ‘blank page’ for a project then we have offloaded some of our agency-through-thinking to the machine. If the technology is geared around cultural production this offloading will always be the case. 

Given this, I’d argue that in the context of learning we are frequently trading between agency and efficiency when using technology, especially AI. Done consciously, with enough understanding of how the tech is operating, the more efficient route can be empowering. Efficiency is not fundamentally counter to learning but it does come at a cost. 

Significantly, to make this choice meaningfully requires a good understanding of the principles on which the technology is operating. Unless we understand roughly how the work is being done we can’t gauge where we are landing on the agency/efficiency continuum. Context is important and often the context we are working in is the technology itself.

The gambit 

So every time we incorporate technology, including AI into our practices, especially when learning, we should be weighing up the extent to which any efficiencies attenuate our creative and critical agency. I think of this as a kind of gambit which reframes the old Silicon Valley mantra of ‘Move Fast and Break Things’ towards ‘Move Fast and Learn Less’. 

I’m not suggesting that we should always choose agency over efficiency, I’m suggesting that we must be aware of the gambit. It’s a continuum, not a binary choice – we can decide where we land. However, if as a student I choose to maximise efficiency a few times in a row I will be eroding the extent to which I’m learning and might want to change tack. Conversely, if I choose the pure agency route and attempt to largely avoid technology, I risk not getting far enough through the process to be able to fully engage with the intended learning. 

Assess less (a simple response to a complex problem)

Given that we are often pushed towards efficiency by a lack of time it makes sense to ask our students to produce less over a longer period of time. In simple terms this is a quality over quantity approach to assessment. I’ve not seen a Learning Outcome which says ‘you will be able to demonstrate that you can produce a huge amount of work in a limited time’ but I do often see volume of work used as a proxy of ‘academic rigour’. If it’s harder to write 2000 words than 5000 works why do assignments get longer the higher the academic level?

If we really value critical thinking then demanding less voluminous work for assessment is a more effective way to respond to emerging technologies than the intricacies of many forms of ‘authentic’ assessment. ‘You have time to choose agency over efficiency’ feels like an authentic and reasonable approach to me. 

All in *and* all out with AI
(start with assignments at both ends of the continuum)

Another way through this picks up on some discussion I’ve seen around not assessing material produced with AI but assessing reflections on that material. This approach asks students to use AI in the form of a questioning dialogue and then reflecting on the results.

At the start of given course-of-study some assessments can be designed on this basis and, as a balance, some could require students to not use any AI. It should be possible to explain the value of these two approaches as deliberately located at either end of the Agency / Efficiency continuum. Having experienced the extremes, students are then better equipped to make conscious Agency / Efficiency choices. With the right scaffolding they should be able to develop a usable critical position on the use of AI before they get to the more self-directed work later in the course. 

Live, Guided and Independent: rethinking teaching for access and engagement

Teaching is defined by being in the same room, at the same time, with students. 

That might sound like an inaccurate, narrow, definition but it’s still largely how we manage teaching in UK Higher Education.  Other activities connected with students being defined as ‘teaching related’. 

Clearly this Same Time, Same Place (“STSP”) principle came about when that was the predominant way of holding any kind of dialog beyond a phone call or a letter. Now we have any number of modes and methods to engage with each other, one-to-one or in groups. Even the relative efficiency of good old email vs the physical post was enough to break up STSP in practice, but the introduction of the hyper-connected digital environment hasn’t had much influence on our underlying model for teaching.

UAL Online – a chance for a fresh look at all this 

When we started to think about fully online provision from UAL Online we knew that STSP wouldn’t cut it. This was informed by a large Action Research project we undertook with staff and learners in 2022. Or, more specifically, we found that asynchronous modes of teaching and learning we not well understood.

Despite building asynch activities into the research pilots, most staff focused on the synchronous moments to ‘teach’ and didn’t understand asynch in terms of teaching. This way of thinking creates a strange tension whereby most staff understand that lots of synchronous teaching online is exhausting and can be disengaging for students (as learnt during Covid) but there is also a demand for more synchronous teaching time. If teaching is defined as only STSP then this conundrum is inevitable.

So we knew had to better explain what the value of asynchronous is as a teaching and learning approach (as opposed to some kind of doing-your-homework mode) and set that in the context of the classic definitions of ‘contact time’ and ‘independent study’.

Our response was to rework the language to be student facing and easy to translate into teaching practice: 

Visual layout of the description of Live, Guided and Independent teaching modes as described in the text below.
UAL Online teaching modes
Live (Same Time, Same Place)
  • Live sessions focus on discussion and debate with peers and tutors.
  • Always recorded, design ensures students don’t miss out if they can’t attend.
Guided (Self-paced activities)
  • Includes learning materials, compulsory activities, group interaction and feedback from tutors.
Independent (Protected study time)
  • Students develop their work and prepare for assessment. 

This model was developed by myself and Georgia Steele (our Head of Education Design and Development) with input from Yasi Tehrani, Rob Clarke and Pete Sparkes our Learning Designers. 

Side note on ‘Live’

While Guided is the most important aspect of this model I also like the term Live because it avoids defining too closely what might be happening in that mode and sidesteps the term ‘Lecture’. I’ve never seen the ‘yes it says Lecture but that could be super interactive’ discussion go well. Much better to say you have a chunk of Live time and if, in the moment, you use it in a way which could have been a video then you are probably not using it well.

This definition is also helping us to design provision which doesn’t rely heavily on Live pedagogically, something which is important for fully online students but is also relevant to on-campus courses. Developing heavy attendance policies isn’t going to be effective in getting students to turn up for Live sessions they don’t perceive as having much value (or enough value to pay for travel/buy on-campus food/change work shifts for), so if your course only works based on ‘good’ Live attendance then you’ll be making it difficult for your most time/cash poor students.

Simple language

Formalising these teaching & learning modes, and using student-facing language has had more of an impact than I expected. The simple switch from ‘Asynchronous’ to the less digital-sounding ‘Guided’ appears to have upped the legitimacy of this type of teaching and put it on the map. The importance of this mode for access and inclusion is also now better understood, partly because we have limited the amount of Live time in our model to the extent that it’s impossible to wedge all the ‘teaching’ into it – even if you tried. Our fully online model is distributed as Live 15%, Guided 45%, Independent 40% of notional learning hours, but these ratios could be changed for other scenarios/contexts. Alongside our excellent Learning Design process this encourages our academics to reconsider the value of Guided as a crucial teaching mode. 

It’s important to note that while Guided is 45% of learning hours it is significantly less than that in terms of teaching time. Teaching in this mode is mainly about posting comments, feedback and relevant materials on, and around, ongoing student work. 

This model is helping us to create a sustainable teaching & learning environment because Guided is formally mapped into our plans rather than assumed to be an extension of admin or teaching prep. In short, we are being very clear that Guided-is-Teaching, when introducing the model to both staff and students.

Beyond online – a trip to DMU

A few weeks ago I was invited by Professor Susan Orr (DVC Education and Equalities) to speak to the Future Pedagogies group at De Montfort University. DMU has moved to Block teaching which calls for a rethink, or at least some clarity, on what might constitute ‘Blended’ delivery (I’m not a fan of the term delivery but it will do for now) to ensure that time on campus is used effectively/meaningfully. It’s easy to say that X amount of teaching will take place online but what does that really mean in terms of teaching practices?

This is where Guided really connected. It appeared to be the right term to open up an authentic teaching ‘space’ between Live and Independent. Having established the mode as valid we could then start to think about what good teaching practice might look like within it. Another interesting thing was how everyone knew that there was already a lot of Guided teaching taking place but it didn’t have a name/concept to bind it to. There then followed useful discussion about if Guided was synonymous with online and what the balance between Live and Guided might be in a campus based model. 

Education strategy 

The positive reaction to this simple three-mode approach in a campus context is a good example of a model that was developed for online teaching and learning translating quite smoothly into a predominantly ‘face-to-face’ environment. I think we will see more of this in the future.

Any university education strategy which responds to the reality of students’ lives (busy, time and cash poor) will need a model of Education which operates across digital and physical locations. This has to be more sophisticated than extending Same Time, Same Place thinking to ‘radically’ include online. That doesn’t make for a very satisfying experience and it’s a limited way of extending access. 

A strategically supported approach to Guided as part of the teaching & learning mix is integral to providing truly accessible education, whether on campus or online. The challenge is not in developing effective Guided teaching practices, we already have years of experience in that regard. The challenge is in the cultural shift required in accepting Guided as an authentic form of teaching and learning which is properly accounted for in our models of employment and seen clearly by our students as a valuable part of the offer. 

Concentrated Art School

Is it possible to run an entire Art School style ‘journey’ in 25 minutes? 

Slide with a picture of cheap (concentrated) orange juice next to a picture of expensive orange juice. The expensive juice has been crossed out.
Concentrated Art School (not made from fresh oranges)

(Side note: this post lays out and reflects on a 25 minute activity which took around one and a half hours to design and prep. I’m mildly overwhelmed (whelmed?) by how much is ‘under the bonnet’ of a process like this. It’s a useful reminder of how rich and nuanced an arts education approach can be and how the work produced is only a tiny aspect of what is going on. i.e. I didn’t realise quite how much was implicit until I wrote this up.)

I was asked to ‘fill’ 25 minutes at our recent team awayday and thought it would be a fun challenge to take the team through the ups and downs of a mini creative education journey from start to finish. The team is working with our colleges to develop fully online Post Grad courses. We are providing recruitment, marketing, design and production, and academic strategy to develop this fully online portfolio. 

Given the functions within the team, many people don’t have direct experience of creative arts education, so I wanted them to get a sense of ‘not knowing’ and creative risk which are inherent in our project-based pedagogies. Ultimately the process was about producing creative work in-the-open in a context with is no specific ‘correct’ answer but where some groups will get higher marks than others. 

The work produced in this session is a the end of this post, but hopefully you will see that the work embodies only a small portion of what was experienced.

The key elements I wanted the room to experience included:

  • Negotiating within a small group (which might include people you don’t know very well)
  • Interpreting an open creative brief (including considering how your work relates to two Learning Outcomes)
  • Making creative work, knowing you are going to be assessed and that grades will be visible to all
  • Working in the open, making work-in-progress visible
  • Working with limited materials
  • Interpreting work in the context of an open brief to award marks/grades

The process

In this case we were all in the same physical room which probably helped given the limited time but there are plenty of ways, with a few tweaks, that this activity could be run online (For example, a bit of online break-out group wrangling and a shared Miro board with visual sections for each group).

The room was already laid out so that people were in groups of 4 or 5 around tables. Handily for me these groups had been designed so that members of the team who might not normally work closely together got to meet each other. i.e. Perfect mixed teams, which are crucial for this kind of activity and are time consuming to design. I am very wary of the “form teams of 4 or 5” instruction as you will always get divisive forms of homophony. For example, in this room it would have been comfortable for people to group by levels of seniority.


1. Introduction / framing

I explained that this was called ‘Concentrated’ Art School for the following reasons:

  1. This was taking the essence of University of the Arts London pedagogy and concentrating it down to an almost ridiculous extent. If UAL is freshly squeezed orange juice then this process was more like concentrated orange juice made from dehydrated powder. It has similarities but is not anywhere near as good.
  2. We had very limited time so everyone would need to concentrate. 
Roles

I then asked one person from each group to act as a tutor and move over to the side of the room and made it clear that the work would be being marked as part of the activity. This gave me 5 tutors.


2. The brief and the template

I thin introduced the brief but didn’t explain it in any detail. What people had to go on is what you see here:

The slide that outline the brief (this is all in the text below this image)
The Brief

The brief refers to a simple A4 template which was on each table and split into three areas

  • Names (So work was attached to people in a visible manner)
  • Work (The core output or ‘realised’ work)
  • Why (Articulating the thinking in the work)

For the sake of accessibility/readability here is the brief in text. (The first version of the brief I showed was in French to make the point that many of our students are operating in an additional language. Half the room didn’t baulk at this as I could see them translating the best they could.)

The Brief:

In the NAMES area
Write your names

In the WORK area

  • Respond to the term “Change”
  • You can use the items in your envelope or anything else you can find
  • You must not write in the WORK area


In the WHY area

Describe why your work is what it is in one sentence

You will be marked in the context of the following Learning Outcomes
LO1: You will be able to visualise themes and ideas through your creative practice [Realisation]

LO2: You will be able to explain and justify your chosen creative approach [Communication]
The items in square brackets refer to the relevant part of the UAL assessment criteria.

3. Activity

Each table had an envelope of materials they could use to respond to the brief. These were deliberately playful/ridiculous and included a small packet of Haribo sweets, various stickers, a felt-tip pen and, of course, some googly eyes.

They had 10 minutes to respond to the brief.

4. Tutors

While the groups were working I spoke to the group of tutors. I gave each tutor a strip of 6 star stickers and said they could award marks by putting these stickers on the work they felt best responded to the brief and learning outcomes. I suggested that they could, if they wanted to, give and single piece of work multiple stars.

I suggested that they could confer on how best to do this and/or have a wander round the room and see how the work was progressing. They all opted to wander and appeared to enjoy the role, casting a curious eye over the groups and occasionally asking questions.

5. Marking

After 10 minutes I asked the groups to stop working, and move away from their tables so that the tutors could mark the work. I asked the working groups to discuss how the process was making them feel. 

I allowed around 10 minutes for this part of the process.

6. Discussion

I knew we didn’t have time for discussion so I wrapped up with a couple of reflections and suggested that people might want to chat about the activity over lunch. 


Interesting things that happened

Firstly, everyone undertook this in the spirit that was intended and it was quite jolly, but there was a strong competitive air too, way stronger than I expected. Every group produced something and there was significant variation in the work conceptually. 

Some groups were better at getting going and figuring out a response than others. The specific dynamics and atmosphere of the groups varied a lot.

One tutor asked me if the brief allowed groups to draw in the work area (e.g. arrows etc.). I asked what they thought and we agreed that drawing was probably ok. 

People really want to see each other’s work

The biggest unexpected happening (although in hindsight I shouldn’t have been surprised) was that when I asked the groups to move away from their tables for the marking process everyone ignored me and immediately started to wander round the room looking at everyone else’s work.

I suspect this is where most of the learning and critical reflection took place during the activity. There was a palpable engaged (but still jolly) atmosphere and quite a bit of discussion. In effect, the ‘student’ groups were weighing up the work for themselves in a similar process to the tutors, they just didn’t have any stars to handout. 

Grading is not much fun

The tutors did appear to enjoy the process of attributing stars but then there wasn’t too much at stake. However, the vibe of the group that got the most starts was definitely more upbeat than the group that got the least. Even in a frivolous environment nobody wants to come ‘last’. As the lead for the activity I felt slightly awkward about this. I was more bothered about it than I had expected to be.

The direct approach takes the lead when there is limited time

The piece awarded the most stars was the most prosaic and least conceptual response to the brief. It told a little story and was easy to understand. I also suspect there was some confirmation bias amongst the tutors which led to a clustering of stars. The group that were awarded the most stars also gave off confident vibes and were most noisy during the activity. Did appearing to have a good time imply they were making good work? (I didn’t think their work was the strongest, just the most direct).

Winning?

Later that day a member of the group which was awarded the most stars asked me, in a playful manner, what they got for winning. I questioned if getting the most stars was winning but was interested in this idea that you could ‘win’ at this kind of activity.


Creative arts education is playful, difficult, and demands everyone involved makes themselves vulnerable

My agenda here was to run an activity in which everyone was likely to feel a little vulnerable in some way. The open brief, the group work, and most of all working visibly are all pretty standard creative arts pedagogy. It’s useful for everyone working in our team to have a sense of what creative risk feels like and the way this plays out for staff as well as students (For example, marking is also a creative/interpretive process with its own risks). 

The biggest implication for me was the desire people had to see each other’s work. Something which is hard-wired into a physical studio environment but which we have to deliberately build-in to an online course. It’s risky working in the open but it’s also where most of the learning happens.

Process and critical reflection is more important than the thing you make

The fact that the materials being used were gummi bears and googly eyes might have kept things light but it didn’t make much difference to the overall process. That is to say that had I given groups oil paints or Lego, the results relative to the brief would probably have been similar. But this is a reflection of my ‘There is no such thing as a good picture of a horse’ thinking and I could be wrong. There is such a thing as technical skill and process which I didn’t attempt to approach in this activity.

What would I do differently?

If I had a bit more time I’d have a second phase to the activity after a break and facilitate some structured reflection and feedback. I would have liked participants to have the chance to talk about the personal affect of the activity whereas they mainly got immersed directly and didn’t have the time to stand back. Despite process and reflection being paramount, this activity reminded me that it’s difficult to not become obsessed with the artefact being produced.

While there was no formal feedback from those involved I was in the position of participant-researcher and did get a good sense of what was going on. (I’ve run enough of these kinds of activities to be able to step back from ‘will this work?’ fears and pay attention to ‘what is happening and what does it mean?’. Some of this comes from experiencing sessions going slightly ‘wrong’ but actually being better for it. It’s better to follow where it’s going than to obsess over your original plan.)

Personal note

The core of the brief comes from an activity we were asked to do in my GCSE English class many, many, years ago. We were each given a small square of paper and asked to respond to the word ‘change’. I have no idea where this activity came from or why we did it. Our English/Drama teacher was quite eccentric in the way teachers used to be when schools were less professionalised and might have simply been entertaining himself.

I wrote a limp, dictionary style, definition on the paper along the lines of “Change is when something is different from what it was before”. I still clearly remember thinking about this a lot afterward and regretting that I hadn’t ripped a corner off the blank square of paper and handed it back. I have no memory of this activity ever being fed back on or mentioned in class ever again. It’s possible this was a pivotal moment for me. A realisation that it was possible and meaningful to go beyond a immediate ‘rational’ or practical response. There was something deeper which could be said by thinking and acting outside of the structures we had been taught.

To test of my own activity for our awayday I thought about how I would respond to the brief. I’d probably rip the Work section of the A4 template into about 20 rough pieces and scatter them across the table. In the Why section I’d put “You tell me”. I’m fairly confident that any group I was in would get me to back off on this idea but who knows? Maybe this whole thing was me looking to redeem my own, unimaginative, 16 year-old self?

The work produced

Blame Descartes: why the way we work online is difficult to describe.

During Covid lockdowns I wrote about the need for presence not contact hours. This was a simple way of rewiring thinking about teaching which explained why moving in-building approaches online felt so exhausting. 

Recently I’ve been looking more directly at how we employ academic staff for teaching in the UK and the way in which this obscures one of the key ways we work online. This problem extends well beyond academic roles into all types of strategic and operational work.

Being in a room with students

The simple version is that we define ‘teaching’ as being in a room with students at a specific time and ‘teaching related activity’ as preparing to be in that room and/or marking student work. Digging deeper and discussing this with colleagues it became clear that the implication of ‘being in a room’ fell into two major categories, or two modes of activity:

  1. Delivering material (The traditional lecture)
  2. Facilitating dialogue (Q&A, seminar, tutorial)

These two could be in any ratio or mixture, for example a lecture might be ‘interactive’ or a tutor might share useful insights in a seminar. The point being (as far as I understand it) that there is a two way thing going on. This exchange might be as simple as ‘being able to see students and them being able to see the tutor’ or it could be in the form of discussion and debate. I work at a specialist creative arts institution so we also have supervised studio time and crits which fall into the dialogue category because it’s assumed that staff/faculty will be discussing the development of work with students in-the-room. This is what constitutes ‘teaching’ as described contractually. Interestingly, feedback is not defined as teaching because it is a one way process, assumed to be in text form and therefore, alongside marking, sits outside ‘teaching’.

Difficult mapping

The reason this construction of teaching and not teaching is important is because it erases, or fails to see, a significant mode of interaction which has emerged with the digital environment. In short, asynchronous activity cannot be defined as teaching within this model. This is not to say that this type of teaching is always not recognised or paid for, it’s more that it’s difficult to acknowledge and define using a model which predates its existence.  

It’s difficult to map asynchronous activity back into this model because:

  1. You are not in the same physical room as students.
  2. Most people appear to not understand asynchronous exchange as dialogue.

I now see why there was such a desperate attempt during lockdowns to make the online environment into a ‘mirror’ of the physical rooms that in-building teaching took place in. The reason so many people insisted on so much synchronous teaching online wasn’t entirely because we didn’t know any better, it was also because unless we were in a room (or as close to this as possible) with students what we were doing couldn’t be teaching. 

The tempo of consecutive exchange

The dialogue point is more nuanced. This appears to come down to how long the gap between statements is, or the tempo of consecutive exchange. Unless it’s close to immediate then it doesn’t seem to count as dialogue. For example, is a discussion in an online forum which takes place over a week a form of dialogue? Is a succession of text comments about a piece of work on a Miro board dialogue? Personally I think it is. It also has the advantage of a certain type of flexibility for all involved. However, our current model of teaching would not register this. It would perhaps be seen as some kind of sequential ‘feedback’ or a collection of one way statements. 

Text vs speech

There is another distinction here which comes into play and that is the difference between spoken and text-based forms of exchange. Our formal definition of teaching appears to favour the spoken word as exchange. My sense is that this is because historically we were either talking to each other ‘in the same place and same moment’ or exchanging letters. This is not to say that epistolic approaches are not valued, it’s more that they are seen as a form of academic exchange and not as teaching. 

There are many examples of teaching-via-letters but these tend to be on a one-to-many basis (much of the New Testament or correspondence courses being good examples) and it’s probably the one-to-one tradition of letter writing which frames it outside of teaching. It’s also possible that this is where teaching shades into supervision, as academic supervision tends to assume one-to-one.

Not quite real time

A long time ago I claimed that the future is ‘not quite real time’. Here I was highlighting that the web had ushered in new forms of text-based communication which were not necessary in the same place and in the same moment, nor were they strictly epistolic. Discussion forums, instant messaging, posting on Social Media. None of these fall into our well worn categories of exchange. 

This is explored by Stewart in her insightful ‘Collapsed publics: Orality, literacy, and vulnerability in academic Twitter’ where she draws on ‘Orality and literacy: The technologizing of the word’ by Ong to propose that Twitter could be encountered, or used, both as a kind of oral dialogue, or as a literary form. It is variously interpreted as both of these because we haven’t yet developed a third category. 

This causes no end of problems as in any given moment text posted in Social Media, what I’m calling ‘consecutive exchange’ can be thought of as ‘just chat’ or as a published work. This is also the reason why we can’t agree on what constitutes acceptable email practice. Is email a letter or is it a conversation, is it a discussion or is it a formal documenting of agreements? Email is a good example of consecutive exchange in that it fall between these definitions.

We have not culturally adapted to the idea that text can be dialogue or that dialogue can be text. Or, perhaps, we have not yet managed to institutionalize this idea because our institutions are built on the strict demarcation of published/recorded vs chat/informal.

Venn diagram. Two circles 'Epistolic' and 'Dialogic', with 'Asynch Online Exchange' in the overlapping space.
This crossover space is not yet institutionally understood.

It’s all a bit new

So despite the fact that we spend much of our time working and learning in this hinterland oral/published mode, we haven’t found a good way of describing it. This seems fair given that, as a mode of exchange, it emerged rapidly and very recently. However, it does make it difficult to account for asynchronous (we are moving to the term ‘Guided’ in our model) forms of teaching and learning.

Right now, it means I have to pretend that one of our most valuable forms of teaching is actually an indistinct mix of ‘teaching’ and ‘prep’. That’s fine for now if it’s used as ‘talking with students via text’ (teaching) and ‘considering and reflecting on student work in progress’ (prep). Effectively I still have to slice up all consecutive or asynchronous work into a version of either epistolic or dialogic rather than claiming consecutive exchange is a category in it’s own right, one which gives both staff and students significant of agency over when and how they engage.

I’m going to blame Descartes for all this complexity as mind-body duality seems to be behind it. What’s the difference between thinking about work and doing work? When it comes to teaching, and many other types of work, I don’t think there is a difference. I’d go as far as to say that defining work in these terms is a category error. This unhelpful duality amplifies our inability to define not-quite-real-time forms of text based exchange as dialogue and erases a key mode of work from our institutional consciousness. No wonder we feel overstretched when much of the work we do is difficult to account for.

Digital Natural Law

(A post about a the power of something that doesn’t exist.)

In my last post I explored how the students on the ALT-C 24 conference student panel were suspicious of ‘innovation’ with digital technology and appeared to prefer incremental improvements that had a more direct, meaningful, impact. From their point of view the term innovation is now close to synonymous with ‘over sold’. So now, when a lot of effort, design-work and creative thinking is put into a quiet, but extremely useful, improvement it’s not considered an innovation. A good example in my world would be increasing the student centred flexibility of provision. This is difficult to do and highly technical across digital, policy, process, and often institutional culture. 

A regimented stack of red-green apples.
Photo by chichachahttps://www.flickr.com/photos/chichacha/2387957261

So how did this come about? Why is it that, by definition, work that makes things better is not categorised as innovative (even when it is innovative)? …and just to be clear, I’m not complaining about this phenomenon, I’m trying to unpick why it happens. 

I like to propose there are three key reasons we have got to this point. The first is simple:

1. Hype Ennui

Too much hype from those that get funded by being the-next-big-thing. There is no need for me to go into this apart from to say that the investment cycle doesn’t require any innovation to actually become the next-big-thing, it just needs enough people to believe that it might for a short while.  It’s interesting that moral panic about a technology is now considered valuable evidence that it will live up to what’s promised. If the tech is slated to destroy/disrupt-and-save civilization all the better. Move fast and break things is the mantra after all.

2. Normalisation

The second reason is straightforward but always difficult to navigate. One definition of well designed technology is that it ‘vanishes into use’. Most interventions, upgrades, redesigns, that help do this by reducing cognitive load. One definition of technology is that it allows you to do more with less effort. You might notice the first time you press that strangely convenient button which does just what you need when you need it, but you don’t notice the second, third or fourth time. It’s just ‘there’ in a process of rapid normalisation bordering on entitlement. Which brings me onto the third reason…

3. Natural Law

We imagine there is a Natural Law of Digital. This is not something we consider directly, but it’s there, right in our central, conceptual, blind spot. We each have a vague, but compelling, model of how everything Digital should work, if it was really working, if the universe was in correct balance. It’s a kind of digital Garden of Eden state where everything ‘works intuitively’ in a manner which releases us to only have to work on things we believe to be authentic and meaningful.

The massive, glaring, downside of this Digital Natural Law is that it doesn’t exist. So we operate less on ‘I know it when I see it’ and more on ‘I don’t know it but I know when I can’t see it’. A sense that the digital environment is in a permanent fallen state of grace that needs repairing towards a state which none of us would agree on even if we could describe it.

This then allows us to respond to meaningful innovation as simply an incremental step back to what should have been the ‘natural’, rightful, state of digital all along. When the wifi gets faster that’s because it was slower than wifi should be beforehand. When a website becomes easier to engage with that’s because some of the bugs, the brokenness, has been fixed. When my new phone has a bright screen it’s because the previous one had a screen which was far too dim. etc etc. Digital Natural Law thinking compels us to believe that the best it’s ever been is simply the closest to ‘fixed’ we have ever experienced. Our ability to upgrade this ‘natural state’ at each step and encounter innovation as an implicit right is partially fuelled by consumerism, it’s also just a bad habit on our part.

I’m not sure what to do about this

It’s difficult to know what to suggest to counter Digital Natural Law thinking. One method would be to ask people to describe this halcyon state in terms other than ‘intuitive’ or ‘personalised’, but people tend to get cross when their utopias crumble. Maybe we have to accept that anything which is part of the fabric of daily life gets sucked into an under considered idealism, I’m probably only truly conscious of my car when it’s broken or my bins when they aren’t collected. 

One strategy which is enjoyable but inadvisable is what I used to do with my kids. When they demanded to know why the wifi was down at home (with the implication that I would somehow fix it?) I would say ‘Of course it’s down, do you have any idea of how complex it is? It’s a wonder it ever works at all!’. Personally that’s how I feel about all digital technology.

I’m in a permanent, low level, state of surprise and wonder that my tech works on any level (except for printers, they are just annoying and wrong). This isn’t because I’m enlightened, it’s because I’m old enough to remember when digital tech was broken-by-default, or at least when you had to jiggle cables and lean on superstitions to get a BBC Micro game to work. 

It is good to see the extent of the scepticism that meets PR heavy digital innovation and maybe that’s half the battle. The students on the ALT-C panel were very appreciative of what some might call ‘the basics’ and the default view of tech was constructively critical. The Digital has had some of the shine scuffed off it it recent years and that can only help to reveal where the meaningful work is being done.

“Please don’t innovate” (with technology)

Last week I was busy helping out and learning things at the Association for Learning Technology conference in Manchester. I’ve been the president of ALT for around four years, leading on the ALT awards and various other stuff with support from the excellent ALT team. There has been a colossal amount of change during my time as president, much of it kicked-off by Covid and all the pros and cons of Digital Education becoming strategically and operationally mainstream. Our new CEO, Susan Martin arrives at a time of great potential as we think about the future of ALT and explore how best we can support a rapidly changing community.

No hard sells

This year at the conference I managed to get to a lot of sessions and was pleased to find that nobody was attempting to sell the use of a specific tech ‘for education’. (Even the vendors at the conference trod carefully in this regard and took more of a ‘this can help to improve a practice’ line than a ‘this will solve education’ approach.)

Panoramic picture of a large conference room with a screen, a stage and people sitting round tables.
Me attempting to get the attention of delegates at the gala dinner. Image by Kerry Pinny

Ten years ago (maybe less) the most popular conference sessions were often framed as “Using [Insert the latest tech here] for education”. We were in solution looking for a problem mode and quite often got it wrong, especially with anything supposedly social or community focused. 

Flexibility more important than ‘innovation’

In this year’s student panel keynote, when asked what the most positive aspect of technology was within their studies the answer was not AI or XR, it was ‘flexibility’. The agency to choose how and when to engage. One response during the panel could be summaried as ‘please don’t innovate, just work on making things better’. It seems that the term ‘innovation’ in the context of EdTech has come to mean “playing with that new thing in ways which don’t really help’’. 

Making the education we offer more flexible to access and engage with is more about process and culture change than about ‘using the latest tech’. In higher education we have a bad habit of adding a layer of ‘innovation’ on top of a fixed model of operation. It seems our students can spot that from a great distance and are not impressed. They were, however, very positive about a bunch of other digital related stuff and precise in identifying where the use of technology supported meaningful learning and where it could be corrosive.

Weariness

Perhaps we are all now wary-by-default of the revolutionary/radical/disruptive narrative around digital technology. For example, there was an ambivalence around AI this year, it has already become an auto-satirizing theme. This is not to say that it can’t be useful in some very general and very specific ways, it was more of a weariness born of ridiculous promises that it appears nobody believes. The most disruptive aspect of this hype cycle being the way that it regularly distracts from the hard work of quietly, and unglamourously, trying to make things a bit better.

Instead of luxuriating in hype, the sessions I attended discussed things such as improving the clarity of assessment processes for students, developing more relevant inductions, surviving in a sector where crisis is the new normal and understanding the lived experience of disabled students. All of which involved extensive use of, or reference to, digital technology.

AMEBWHIT

So perhaps it’s not the Association for Learning Technology but the Association for Making Education Better Which Happens to Involve Technology. AMEBWHIT is not the most usable acronym but it’s a more accurate description of the work of the ALT community. My hope is that in the coming years we can find positive ways of communicating the reality behind my infeasible acronym and grow the community by inviting in (and being useful for) a new generation of individuals and roles. The tech innovation cycle will take care of itself. In the meantime we can focus our innovation energy on setting the direction for ALT in an era where Digital Education is omnipresent.

The online crit and imagining the not yet realised

On the 7th of June I’ll be in conversation with Professor Paul Lowe about the ‘Online Crit’ as part of our online seminar series (you can sign up here).

An interesting idea surfaced during the chat we had in preparation for the session: being able to imagine the not-yet-realised is fundamental to the creative process. There is no making without intent, and there is no intent without the imagined.

CC Chris Richmond https://www.flickr.com/photos/35652152@N07/24955436862

This idea is so embedded in creative work that I wonder if we forget it’s there. It’s certainly important when considering Online Creative Education as the move to online tends to raise questions about the material which risk demoting the importance of the conceptual.

Realisation

However, this must be considered not only in the context of creative practice but also creative education. The education process, writ large, being learning and becoming expressed via making, the ‘via’ being key. This is reflected in our assessment criteria which covers Enquiry, Knowledge, Process, Communication and Realisation.

While we might be assessing technical skill within these, when we consider Realisation we are most likely to be focusing on the Realisation of an evolving set of ideas. Given this. the final output or artifact offered in response to a creative brief becomes an emblem of the overall creative process. It should be used actively as a gateway into telling the story of that process and the thinking therein. This is why we ask students to submit a portfolio which contains that story and not to simply hand in a final piece.

The Crit and the physical

The traditional crit involves a group moving around a studio variously questioning and defending thinking-as-represented through a key pieces of work. Of course, technique and craft are likely to be discussed but they should only form part of the conversation. The crit is not a technical workshop in this regard and, if done well, should be scaffolding for telling the story of process, reflecting on thinking and imagining that which does not yet exist (as distinct from attempting to hone in on a ‘correct answer’).

Given this, physical presence is not fundamental to the crit and it could be argued that taking the crit online helps to focus on critique (in the best sense) development and becoming precisely because it is ‘immaterial’.

I’m not claiming that the tactile, the olfactic or certain forms of spatiality are not valuable in some crits, but they need not be fundamental to the process. For example, it would be rare for anyone to touch work as part of a crit.

Creative Education Online involves geographically dispersed making connected by collective questioning and critique. These things combined become ‘studio’. The online crit can, and should, be central to this as a location for telling the story of the work and imagining the not yet realised.

The problem isn’t AI, it’s the zero-sum future we’re being sold

Upside-down version of Blooms Taxonomy with an explosion of 'create' at the top.
Turning Blooms Taxonomy upside-down and removing the lid – CC BY 4.0 David White

A couple of blog posts ago I suggested that our response to AI is pushing us into a dangerous model of humanness.

“There is a tendency here to imply a zero-sum principle to humanness: the more the tech can do the less it means to be human. This feels wrong to me and isn’t helpful in an educational context.”

https://daveowhite.com/pointy/

I explored this zero-sum idea at a recent talk to staff at Kingston School of Art. To support my line of thought I picked up a quote in a post from Tobias Revell. The quote refers to Science Fiction (SF) but as Tobias points out, our current futures are largely based on SF thinking.

“I would argue, however, that the most characteristic SF does not seriously attempt to imagine the “real” future of our social system. Rather, its multiple mock futures serve the quite different function of transforming our own present into the determinate past of something yet to come.”

Progress versus Utopia; Or, Can We Imagine the Future? 
Fredric Jameson, Science Fiction Studies, Vol. 9, No. 2, Utopia and Anti-Utopia (Jul., 1982), pp. 147-158 – via https://blog.tobiasrevell.com/2024/02/07/box109-design-and-the-construction-of-imaginaries/

Questioning the future

I’m not a futurist but when it comes to emerging technologies it is useful to question what model of the future we are working with. How that is shaping our present and how this is, in turn, painting humanness into a corner. In short, the specific technology is less problematic than version of the future being sold.

The model of the future promoted around AI, and picked up in education, contains many assumptions and tacit implications. The main one being that once AI systems reach a certain level of complexity and/or have enough data to feed on they will reach ‘Artificial General Intelligence’ (AGI).

“…a type of artificial intelligence (AI) that can perform as well or better than humans on a wide range of cognitive tasks”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artificial_general_intelligence

An image of intelligence entering the station?

A quick scan of the Wikipedia article on this makes it pretty clear that we are nowhere near that and there is little evidence that AI systems are actually on that path. However, the assumption that this has already happened or that it is inevitable is what is behind the zero-sum model of the future.

When I see articles with ‘this feels like AGI’ in them it reminds me of the train entering the station story from the early days of cinema. People allegedly panicked when they saw the film and cinema was, and is, a technology with a massive impact but what people saw was an image of something and not the thing itself.

L’Arrivée d’un train en gare de La Ciotat

We are not computers and intelligence is a sibling of mystery

Some of what drives this is a collective forgetting that the brain is not a computer and that that idea is merely a metaphor. So, building a hugely complex computer can only ever make a metaphorical brain. Or as Mary Midgley argues in Science as Salvation, the problem isn’t that we are operating with myths, the problem is that we have recategorised myth as fact, and therefore inevitable.

Add to this that there is no agreed definition of intelligence, and everything suddenly becomes very murky (Helen Beetham writes elegantly on this point).

My personal view is that we are extending the ‘Chinese Room’ in a manner which is impossible to understand (the way a neural networks operate in programming means that it’s not possible to deduce the process back to any kind of human-readable form). Our working definition of intelligence is then an absence or an ignorance, in that it’s a notion we ascribe to that which remains a mystery. This is another salient factor driving the zero-sum model of the future.

The problem with the pointy bit

When I first pointed out the zero-sum problem, I helpfully provided a bad diagram.

A red triangle diagram with yellow at the top.
A techno-evangelist, overly simplistic interpretation of education triangle diagrams post-AI? – CC BY 4.0 David White

The quick version of this being that many educational models are triangle shaped and the ‘higher order’ learning is in the pointy bit, often labelled as ‘creativity’ or something similar. The reason I called the diagram bad is because it perpetuates the zero-sum model of the future. Technology might help us to move into the pointy bit faster, but the diagram implies that the strictly human nature of pointy bit thinking and learning is small and constantly being chipped away at.

This is the problem with triangles, they get progressively smaller at the top until there is no space left at all. If we go with Blooms Taxonomy here, then it implies that human creativity is finite as if it was possible to complete being creative. Clearly this isn’t what is mean by the diagram, but these implicit notions are powerful and persistent. Having given this some, let’s go for a walk and have a think, time – I came up with a brilliant idea which it turns out a bunch of people have had before.

Flipping Blooms for unbounded creativity

What if we simply turn the triangle upside down rip the lid of it off (this lid ripping is my contribution).

Upside-down version of Blooms Taxonomy with an explosion of 'create' at the top.
Turning Blooms Taxonomy upside-down and removing the lid – CC BY 4.0 David White

What if remembering, understanding, applying etc. are what you dip into to support a process which starts with creativity? That would certainly chime with how students at the University of the Arts London work. Significantly, what if creativity wasn’t a finite pointy bit but was a jumping off point into a space which, by its very nature, cannot be bounded but opens out into unknown possibilities? Moreover, it could be argued that the relative educational weighting (if we go by the size of each slice) is a better reflection of where the educational emphasis should be in an era of information abundance and AI.

Certainly, a model of the future based on a lidless upside-down Blooms Taxonomy would be less fearful than the one we are currently being sold. In this lidless future, emerging technologies become a vehicle for us to explore the ever-expanding outer reaches of creativity rather than the thief of our humanness. I seem to remember that was the model of a technological future before technologists became our new high priests and I’d argue that the move to the zero-sum model is a failure of secularism (a topic I find fascinating but which is too big to get into here).

Not my idea

As I said, I wasn’t the first to up-end Blooms. That idea I’ve managed to trace back to around 2012 and relatively early discussions of the flipped classroom. For example this via Shelly Wright, which I traced back from this Open University post by Tony Hirst.

The OU post also links to a piece from Scott McLeod for around the same time which delves back into the thinking behind Blooms Taxonomy and how it was never mean to imply ‘higher’ and ‘lower’ forms of learning nor that each slice should be seen in terms of ‘amount of learning’. Given this, I suggest that putting it into a triangle was a spectacularly bad idea which, as Scott points out, has perpetuated a pretty impoverished approach within formal education. Hopefully, my lidless upside-down version of Blooms goes someway to redress this.

Embracing a squiggly future

Ultimately my favourite antidote to  the triangle is the squiggle. My favourite struggle of all time being Tristram Shandy’s diagrams of his approach to storytelling in a novel by Lawrence Stern.

A set of four lines with different patterns of squiggles on them.
Lines showing the direction of storytelling in the novel Tristram Shandy by Lawrence Stern – Wikimedia Commons

In the novel Shandy gets side-tracked so often that he never even gets born in the telling of his own life-story. And yet, somehow we learn an enormous amount about him through this wandering and the story is hugely entertaining. For me this is a fabulous touchstone for the principle of assessing the journey and not the output in education.  

The-squiggle-as-process is a much more honest metaphor for learning than the rigour of the triangle because a squiggle is messy, sometimes beautiful, and everyone takes a different route. We squiggle all over Blooms as we learn and we potentially squiggle our way out into the unknown beyond the lid of upside-down Blooms. So here’s to a creative, squiggly future in which education does not fear technology and our humanness knows no bounds.

Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning report

This week I was on a panel hosted at the House of Lords to discuss the launch of the Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning report. The research is from the Higher Education Commission, written by Alyson Hwang.

Close up of red and green wallpaper with an heraldic pattern
Very House of Lords wallpaper

The report’s research heritage has its roots in scrutiny of online learning during Covid lockdowns but things have come a long way since then. The Office for Students commissioned a review of blended learning, led by Professor Susan Orr which was published in October 2022 which forms a basis for this new research. The key finding from that 2022 work was that teaching quality is not relative to mode:

“The review panel took the view that the balance of face-to-face, online and blended delivery is not the key determinate of teaching quality. The examples of high quality teaching that were identified in this review would be viewed as high quality across on campus and online modes of delivery. This also applies to examples of poor teaching quality.”

Blended learning review,  Report of the OfS-appointed Blended Learning Review Panel, October 2022

It seemed that everything moving online during Covid had caused a culture shock and certain voices in Westminster decided that learning online couldn’t possibly as good as learning in buildings. Plus, some students were making the case that they were paying the same fees for an inferior experience.

This was more about university as a cultural-rite-of-passage than as an educational journey, but it largely got framed as being about ‘learning’. A valid question here would be ‘which students are we taking about?’ and ‘on what basis?’. See this recent piece from the Guardian by Roise Anfilogoff, who points our that for many students university became significantly more accessible during lockdowns.

The new report

The Commission found that blended learning has the transformative potential to widen participation and access to higher education for all, improve equality of opportunities, and enhance learning outcomes.

Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning Report, pg 20

The Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning report builds on the Review of Blended Learning, adding information from evidence sessions, interviews and written submissions to support a rangy set of recommendations. The case studies root the research in current, successful, practice.

It’s notable in how positive it is about blended learning and while there are many caveats, all the case studies and stats are upbeat. I’m sure this is an effect of asking institutions to share stories, rather than a taking a detective work approach. However, given the Covid heritage of this line of reporting it’s interesting that nowhere is blended learning portrayed as a bolt-on or fundamentally ‘not as good as’ being in physical rooms. I sense we are heading towards post, post-Covid times in quite a helpful way.

The report covers a lot of ground, ranging from the need for leadership to the state of the ed tech market. All-in-all it’s a useful body of work to support institutional strategy and to make the case for investing in Digital Education in the broadest sense.

Year zero

Much of what is covered and recommended are things which those of us in Digital Education have spent many years arguing for. In this sense the report is largely describing the current start-of-play rather than presenting possible futures. Covid is taken as a kind of year-zero for blended learning which doesn’t change the value of what is being said but always feels strange for those of us who have been working in the space since the 90s.  

The following recommendations in the report are ‘classics’ and well underway in many places:

  • The need for senior leadership roles that own and promote blended learning.
  • The need for more staff development and time to be made available in workload planning for this.
  • The need to incorporate digital literacy/capability into all curriculum to equip students for the workplace (and, I’d add, life…)
  • The need for commercial ed tech development and procurement to be more agile, and possibly collective (Open Source doesn’t get much of a look-in).

Certainly the Association for Learning Technology community have been extremely active in these areas and are well placed to contribute to any cross-sector work.

Asynch

The aspects of the report which open up the most interesting areas for me are around how we might develop more nuanced models of ‘blended’ as a practice and how ‘Quality’ might then be defined. The report proposes the following model:

Time, pace and timingSynchronous and Asynchronous
Space Place and Platform
MaterialsTools, facilities, learning media and other resources (digital, print-based or material)
GroupsRoles and relationships (teacher-led and peer-learning, varieties of learning groups)
Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning Report, pg 7

This is a useful and useable set of categories and it’s heartening to see the concepts of space and place in there. The report goes onto suggest how quality might be overseen, or measured, in recomendation12:

The Office for Students should establish a single, coherent approach for assessing the quality of online and blended learning as the designated quality body, ensuring that metrics do not impose additional bureaucratic burdens on the HE sector.

Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning Report, pg 6

This is complex and problematic because, as the report mentions, all provision is blended to a degree and so any coherent approach for assessing the quality of online and blended learning will actually be assessing all provision. Moreover, if we believe that this is about the quality of teaching (and design of provision) rather than the mode then why would we want to focus on mode? Not to mention that we already have a significant burden of regulation which the report alludes to as potentially distracting.

The HE sector is facing a significant challenge due to the regulatory landscape’s lack of consistency and stability. This diverts resources from developing teaching practices, investing in digital infrastructure, and improving students’ experiences.

Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning Report, pg 33

Teaching beyond mode

This all comes back to a knotty point that, in regulatory terms, we don’t have a workable definition of teaching that operates super to mode and can be applied across face-to-face and digital. For example, when you sift through the OfS Conditions of Registration the examples given which relate to teaching have their roots in face-to-face, ‘synchronous’ practices. There are refences to the need to use ‘current’ pedagogies in digital delivery but these are not described. As in this ‘possible cause for concern’:

The pedagogy of a course is not representative of current thinking and practices. For example, a course delivered wholly or in part online that does not use pedagogy appropriate to digital delivery, would likely be of concern.

OfS Conditions: B1: ‘Academic Quality’, B1.3
High Quality Academic Experience, Cause for concern 332H (b.)

It’s reasonable pedagogic specifics are not described given that ‘current thinking’ is a moving target. However, the side effect of this is that teaching is frequently refenced but never described, which means we fall back into a ‘contact hours’, teaching is the live stuff, way of thinking. Ultimately, most of our measures of teaching quality are proxies via student experience. There is plenty of merit in that but it contributes to the problem that our shared understanding of what teaching is (and what it isn’t) is always implied, or assumed, and never made explicit.

The asynchronous unicorn

Although the regulatory body provided some practical guiding principles, the metrics for assessing the quality of blended provision could be clarified to guarantee quality education rather than penalise innovative practices.

Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning Report, pg 32

This is important because until asynchronous forms of teaching are actually understood as teaching we won’t be able to describe the value of blended, or fully online, learning. Until ‘non-live’ pedagogies are mapped into our understanding of quality we won’t, as a sector, be able to see our own provision clearly.

The effect being that the way in which the digital can support truly student-centred flexible provision will not be acknowledged and much progress in access and inclusion will remain ‘invisible’ to quality frameworks. This extends to the way we design contracts, manage workloads, increase student numbers and widen access. The latter being a key hope attached to the hypothetical flexibility of online and blended provision, especially for those already in work:

Contributors to the inquiry voiced how student needs and demands are changing in line with the economy – more than ever, students are benefitting from flexible, personalised, and accessible delivery of their courses.

Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning Report, pg 4

As mentioned, the key here is to describe and communicate-the-value-of ‘non-live’ teaching in a mode agnostic manner. This isn’t about Digital, it’s about teaching and flexibility– it just so happens that Digital allows us to undertake many forms of ‘non-live’ teaching (whereas non-digital forms of asynchronous largely rely on a postal service).

(aside) What do we think of when we think of teaching?

I’d like to undertake a research project where we ask a cross section of staff and students to describe what they understand by the term ‘teaching’. I suspect views will vary wildly and worry that many of them will be quite narrow.

What can we take from the Digitally Enhanced Blended Learning report?

There is plenty of useful stuff here and I’m sure it will be quoted in many strategies and budget asks. It’s a useful step forward, not least of which because it reflects the reality of the majority of the sector and not some kind of Oxbridge cultural romanticism, projected out from, bricks and mortar.

Overall, I’d ask where the investment and capacity might come from during nervous times and I’m wary of a narrative which is based on the White Heat of Technology as it’s never really about the tech, it’s about the business model. Certainly, in a sector where we are generating an ever growing staff precariat, introducing technology to make things ‘more efficient’ is likely to contribute to instability. I say this not entirely from a Marxist perspective but because I believe that meaningful teaching will always involve confident, highly capable, professionals.

To give the report it’s due, at no point does it suggest that we should do everything with AI or something along those lines, it’s driving more of an access than efficiency agenda, but it’s focus on mode, rather than the practice of teaching could lead people the wrong way. My hope is that the constructive and measured character of this report will provide a basis for us to develop more sophisticated models of practice and quality which are not tied to mode and therefore don’t segregate digital.

Creativity with, or against, the machines?

A recent Ed Tech/HE conference I attended opened day one with a high production value, inspirational, video. Traditionally at this event the opening video has outlined how technology is the future and will enhance everything ‘Empowering students to shape their destinies’ type stuff. (This is normally expressed through metaphor, and images of VR-ish stuff happening).  

However, this year while the main message had a similar drive there was a new subtext. The video showed a young woman who appeared to be suffering from creative block, but through her own determination she broke through this, her ideas flourished, and she ended up inspired to paint and draw etc. I don’t recall much technology being involved beyond some laptop pointing and a bit of indistinct VR use. The human was central.

This seemed to be making the case for what, might be, unique about being human and how technology could support that. Another interpretation is that the video was actively defending humanness in an era of rapidly developing digital technologies. I’m sure this wasn’t the direct intention, but this theme did carry through the opening keynote from a Futurist who insisted, in the way that Futurists do, that we should try to imagine many possible futures. i.e. Not just the future that the technologist insist is inevitable on a hard dystopian / utopian split.

What do we bring to the table?

What I think I’m seeing is a post-AI shift towards a defence of humanity against technology. Or a gentler view might be that it’s an assertion of what is unique about being human – an attempt at defining what humans ‘bring to the table’. This theme isn’t new for example, in the nineteenth century Ruskin advocated for human centric values in the face of industrialised work which separated individuals from craft and nature. Harraway argued against the dehumanising drive of computational and technological ‘progress’ back in the 80s and the ‘what makes us human’ theme has been shot through literature for thousands of years (angels, Der Golem, Frankenstein’s monster, aliens etc.).  

The new aspect for me is that this was an Ed Tech conference, not a symposium on gothic literature, a meeting of theorists. The organisation running the conference are techno-evangelists of sorts and have facilitated and funded a bunch of useful digital things for Higher Education in the UK. And yet their ‘this is what we value’ conference opening video could easily be used by the marketing department of my own university (The University of the Arts London). Our strap line is ‘The World Needs Creativity’. The strapline of the video could have been ‘Being Human Still Has Value’.

I wonder if we are seeing the culmination of a technological narrative which has been building for years. Wherein those promoting the tech must switch to promoting humanness and how the tech amplifies, rather than reduces, our ‘uniqueness’.  There is a tendency here to imply a zero-sum principle to humanness: the more the tech can do the less it means to be human. This feels wrong to me and isn’t helpful in an educational context.

It’s more than the pointy bit – but it is the pointy bit.

I mentioned a few blog posts back that, for me as an educationalist, the role of technology is to give us the opportunity to spend more time in the pointy, top-end, of the educational triangle diagram (you can pick any educational triangle diagram – they all imply that the pointy bit is what we are aiming for). Creativity, or something akin to creativity, often labels the pointy bit for example, in Bloom’s taxonomy the term ‘Create’ is used. In other frameworks it relates to agency and identity – various forms of self-determination and expression.  

A triangle where the bottom two thirds are labelled 'The bit technology can do' and the top third is labelled 'The human bit'.
A techno-evangelist, overly simplistic interpretation of education triangle diagrams post-AI?

The downside of these triangles is that they imply ‘development’ is a kind of ladder. You climb your way to the top where the best stuff happens. Anyone who has ever undertaken a creative process will know that it involves repeatedly moving up and down that ladder or rather, it involves iterating research, experimentation, analysis, reflection and creating (making). Every iteration is an authentic part of the process, every rung of the ladder is repeatedly required, so when I say technology allows us to spend more time at the ‘top’ of these diagrams, I’m not suggesting that we should try and avoid the rest.

I’d argue that attempting to erase the rest of the process with technology is missing the point(y). However, a positive reading would be that, as opposed the zero-sum notion, a well-informed incorporation of technology could make the pointy bit a bit bigger (or more pointy). The tech could support us to explore a constantly shifting and, I hope, expanding, notion of humanness. This idea is very much in tension with the Surveillance Capitalism, Silicon Valley, reading of our times. I’m not saying that the tech does support us to explore our humanity, I’m saying it could and what is involved in that ‘could’ is worth thinking about.

It’s pleasant, in a quiet way, to see technologists reach for a simplistic only-the-pointy-bit version of creativity as the go-to concept when promoting a human-centric view. This is probably also comes about because the auteur-ish, ‘expressive’, aspects of a performative creativity make for good video visuals. My hope is that the new habit of defending, or promoting, humanness by technologists will lead to an increasing understanding of why ‘Art School’ values around not-knowing, risk, ambiguity, play and general graft are exactly what’s needed to continue to expand what it means to be human.