NeuroGovernment

As I go through the various pieces of direct mail from various IT, training, and management gurus, I am reminded of this line from Monty Python’s Life of Brian:

“Brian: I am NOT the Messiah!
Arthur: I say you are Lord, and I should know. I’ve followed a few.”

I’ve always liked Roger Schank since I read his Tell Me a Story back in 1991.  In fact, he’s the impetus for my interest in mental models.  His insights in teaching and learning are well-grounded in his experiences in teaching college classes and his consulting work to many large companies.  That’s why his latest opinion on being realistic about the effects of technology on learning.  “Learning is learning and technology is technology. The two are related if and only if the technology makes it possible to learn something that can be learned in no other way.”

I was saddened this evening when I found that a learning expert who I admire a great deal decided to no longer follow me on Twitter.  This was after a discussion concerning the merits of informal learning.  In my previous blog at Design of Knowledge, I was very critical of informal learning and especially of Jay Cross’ concept of informal learning.  I did a five-day series criticizing his book and followed up with periodic responses to his postings.

Now, I don’t dispute that informal learning has some value but I questioned the lack of a good definition of informal learning (other than it wasn’t anything you didn’t like about lectures) and the lack of research.  I cited studies that showed that informal learning could actually cost more than formal learning, that blended learning is much more effective than either informal learning or formal learning alone, and that the benefits of informal learning are very hard to measure.  I also brought up the possibility that informal learning can lead to excluding others and lead to groupthink.

I did this in the spirit of good, vigorous debate that I thought that the learning community would welcome.  That didn’t happen.  Instead responding directly to my questions and concerns, I was told that I was trolling for Google juice and received an angry email from Cross himself (understandable because in a fit of hyperbole, I referred to one of his postings as bullsh*t).  Some were supportive of my observations but it was clear that I was a minority voice in the path of an ever-expanding bandwagon.

This experience has been quite fascinating.  In my second job, I teach at two universities and have taught for the last ten years.  In that time, I have seen the scholarship of teaching and learning grow as universities realize that straight lecturing doesn’t work anymore and that professors have to use social networking in their teaching. I have also become greatly interested in neuroscience and how it affects human communication.  There is a lot of fascinating research out there that can revolutionize learning and training.  But, except for the notable exception of Ruth Colvin Clark, training does not seem to have incorporated this new research.

For example, Michael Hanley has written some great posts that explores the history of informal learning and its implications.  Great stuff but only one comment on one post.  I especially like this observation:

“Now, informal learning seems to have emerged as the shiny new toy. It fits so well with social networking, Web 2.0, and asynchronous media delivery platforms. It’s primary value seems to be as a “money-saving strategy” (i.e. cheap), rather than for its effectiveness as a learning modality – and undertaken correctly it is a very effective approach to workplace learning.

But it’s is not this year’s novelty. Just like The Watchmen, it has been around for much longer than you may suspect. But you would not know it’s there if you googled Informal Learning; the domain characterized as “informal learning” by Bersin & Associates (and other organizations) is more correctly called Non-Formal Learning. What’s more, there is a solid body of research on the topic going back over forty years. In this context, reviewing the current crop of articles on informal learning is akin to watching people actually trying to reinvent the wheel.”

So, there are two responses to this.  I can either continue to question informal learning, point out the lack of research that supports the overhyped claims, and insist on a definition.  Apparently this leads to one being viewed as some kind of clueless crank.  Or I can lay low, wait until this trend runs its eventual course, and continue to quietly work on my research in mental-model based teaching and learning.

I prefer the latter.  It’s no fun being run over by a bandwagon.

An incident at work has made me think about the “curse of knowledge.”  As one becomes proficient in their chosen field, they accumulate knowledge and experiences that grows their body of knowledge.  The longer a person is in a field, they are able to use chunking to become experts.  The person climbs the mountain of knowledge and once they reach a certain point, they can no longer see where they started.  They forget what it was like to be a beginner in the field.

This is the curse of knowledge and this is a major barrier to informal learning.  It takes a special skill for an expert to re-enter the beginner’s mind and to communicate the concepts to a non-expert.  Some informal learning experts believe that it is enough for learners to mingle among themselves and they will pick up the knowledge (supposedly by osmosis).  But, if that were true, I could become a brain surgeon by hanging around my local hospital.

One can learn a great deal from experts but there has to be some structure and the expert not only has to be an expert in the subject matter but accomplished at communicating that knowledge.  Your average office expert isn’t rewarded for his or her teaching abilities but for their acquisition of skills and knowledge.  I know some managers would like to think they are encouraging learning among their employees but, when the pressure is on, informal teaching and informal learning are luxuries that many organizations can’t afford.