No one has come out openly for the smashing of television receivers, teaching machines, or even computers, but there is an uneasy feeling among some educators that technology is dehumanizing education. There is conversion that the student is becoming a programmed robot; that decision making in matters of school management, methodology, and even curriculum, is slipping into the hands in impersonalized computer-programmers; and that the ever-widening, ever more rapid flood of electronic, photography, magnetic, automated instructional systems is turning the teacher into a button pusher.
The business of education is to invest experience with meaning and organize it in a way which will expand the individual’s capacity for further learning. Developments in educational technology are amplifying and accelerating this process.
The significant effect has been to force both teachers and learners to clarify their objectives and methods, and assume more, not less, responsibility in the search for leaning in a world of ambiguity, change and stress.
The sophistication and proliferation of machines, and more carefully designed media programs offer no hope at all to those who believe that someday man’s thinking will be done for him.
I came across the above passage while I was searching through some old EL back issues this weekend. My original quest was to find older articles on writing instruction. Then I slipped into looking for past articles about technological developments.1 I love the two purposes for education and teachers therein – the business of education being to invest experience with meaning and the idea that teachers and learners should clarify their objectives and methods.
Let’s be intentional. Good reminder, and one I incorporated into a talk I gave today to my colleagues regarding what we should be focusing on now that we’ve distributed iPads to our middle school students. The tablets by themselves won’t change a thing about instruction. But they’ll give us some new opportunities and options. Let’s be intentional about what we do with them.2
Tonight, as I reviewed Audrey’s keynote on “Ed Tech’s Monsters,” I found a third purpose that seems connected to the first two. Or I liked it because Audrey and I share a fascination with the revolutions of the past and how similar they are to the revolutions of today, particularly in the “there’s never been anything like this”-ness of them that turns out to be repeated over and over and over.
Her added purpose was, and I’m taking this a bit out of context – you should really read her entire talk:
To be clear, my nod to the Luddites or to Frankenstein isn’t about rejecting technology; but it is about rejecting exploitation. It is about rejecting an uncritical and unexamined belief in progress. The problem isn’t that science gives us monsters, it’s that we have pretended like it is truth and divorced from responsibility, from love, from politics, from care. The problem isn’t that science gives us monsters, it’s that it does not, despite its insistence, give us “the answer.”
And that is problem with ed-tech’s monsters. That is the problem with teaching machines.
In order to automate education, must we see knowledge in a certain way, as certain: atomistic, programmable, deliverable, hierarchical, fixed, measurable, non-negotiable? In order to automate that knowledge, what happens to care?
I wonder about love and care and their place in teaching and learning. I wonder about how we make sure to invest experiences with meaning and create capacity for further learning. I want teachers and students both to think hard – very, very hard – about their objectives and the way they approach them.
As I’m beginning a new school year with plenty of new challenges, one of which is my struggle of late to document and reflect upon my experiences, I feel like these are worthy purposes to ponder a bit right now.
So that’s what I’m doing.
- Found some fascinating pieces on the need for audio-visual staff in schools in the 1940s. [↩]
- We’ve, of course, been down the “this new thing will change everything” rhetoric before. And before. But nothing much changes. We incorporate the new technology into some old (often bad, but sometimes good) habits. Then hope for the next thing. Let’s stop hoping and start doing. [↩]