So, this is a reprise of my last post, written in late September.
Jisc have just launched a co-design challenge (#codesign16) looking at what should the next generation of digital learning environments do. There are a number of key assumptions that keen readers of this blog might suspect I will take issue with; should we even be talking about learning environments for a starter. As learning technologists, academics or educational developers, why do we keep talking about the box of tricks as the on-going ticket to educational success? There are a number of much prescient articles about the future of the VLE (Louis Pugilese wrote a nice thought piece on a demand side VLE a few years back HERE and Martin Weller’s 2007 dystopian future ‘The VLE/LMS is dead’. But for me, the debate about what comes next, what does the VLE of the future look like or whether it is cloud or server based is like a drowning man arguing about the political position that his rescuer has on the issue of Brexit (and deciding that drowning is better than jumping in a boat with Nigel Farage).
What we should be talking about is far more fundamental than all of that. In 2014, I wrote a blog post about some the polarising factors that are in fact paralyzing our sector, preventing us from change, supporting entrenched positions of resistance and not affording us the opportunity to truly interrogate why the hell we are educating in the first place. This was not a baby out with the bathwater argument, nor was it the call to smash it all down and start again;
He argued that the modern university needed to prepare itself for a raft of changes that represented substantial changes that arise primarily from the technologies of today. There is a clear disconnect between the pace of technological change, the use of technologies by our learners and the pace in which institutions can change and adapt to both of those. I think we have been successful in winning the battles of large scale institutional systems as a means of embedding learning technology. The difference in the post-digital age is that now, these platforms and tools don’t have to be firewalled behemoths of yore. They are lean, agile, accessible and most of all, social. There isn’t a single institutional ‘out of the box’ solution that we can get the institution to invest in. There are micro platforms, single purpose aggregations of tools, agile new start-ups and the continued predominance of a digital backpack hosted and stored in the cloud.
As a sector, we need to move away from our systems mind set and into one that creates the conditions for agility, creativity and innovation. The effort should not be on shaping the systems to be ready for 2025, it should be shaping the institution to be able to adapt to whatever is thrown at it. If we went back to 2005 and asked the institution to prepare itself for 2015, what would we have told it? What has happened in the intervening years that we could have never predicted? Funnily enough, it’s the stuff we are still trying to ways to adapt to now. Social media! Participatory culture! Digital Citizenship! (from the post ‘We could ride the surf together – Polarisation and power of riding the wave and not staying in front of it’)
We don’t know what we don’t know. Prediction is a mugs game for sure. The Jisc challenge here was two-fold;
1. are current systems meeting the needs of our institutions, 2. and is it time to think about the next generation of learning environments?
My question is a different one; are the current systems meeting the needs of learning? Our institutions rise and fall on that question. The one thing we have over and above informal learning, community learning, micro-learning and all the other wolves at the door is that we accredit and certify. The value of that certification comes from the people who get it pinned to their chests. If what we offer stops meeting their needs, then we stop being relevant. The next generation of learning environment must tangle with the provocative and frankly difficult question of what learning actually is. My last post looked at good teaching, and why that was important in the digital age, and in the face of claims that technology courrupts good learning practices. It argued that god teaching was system/OS/box agnostic and that what made teaching ‘good’ was essentially intrinsic and human. One of the controversial interpretations of is that advocated that good teaching as it was human could only happen in ‘real life’. It doesn’t matter what the future learning environment is, the first question is what is the future of learning going to look going to look like? Are we the right people to be a part of it? This is not a clarion call for the heaving morass who argue the age of the expert is dead. Expertise is not a pejorative term FFS. Experts fix things, make things better, cure things, understand things and share things. But we do have to ask ourselves the tough questions; should we be involved in our our students learning? What kind of learning do they need/want/have no idea about yet?
Any learning environment of the future needs to be shaped and understood with at least some interrogwtion of those questions. Gutierrez in 2014 made a broad attempt to answer these questions by saying that learning is changing in four ways;
From Individual to Collaborative Learning From Passive to Active Learning The Rise of Differentiated Instruction The Phenomenon of Multi-tasking
If we assume that this is what learning is in 2020 (which is a giant leap) how would the learning environment we would need to start developing now adapt to these changes, which are no hypothetical or fictitious, they are happening in our institutions now. How can a VLE be made to support active learning; can it be hacked, can it be bent? One of the biggest arguments in the ‘VLE is dead’ saga a few years back was the rise of adaptive and predictive technologies. You know, the ones that Amazon use to tell you which books or music you should buy next. Imagine (we were told) what a VLE could do if it were to become adaptive -after removing the rise of the Apes from your brain (and stopped screaming ‘“YOU BLEW IT UP! AH, DAMN YOU! GOD DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!’ at the small snow globe of the statue of liberty you have on your desk), take a deep breath. What is it adapting to? Learning is a crooked, messy, chaotic and non-linear pathway through living. It doesn’t matter where it happens, on what box or within which four august walls. It matters that we understand why people learn. It matters we know why we should be part of it and it matters how the learning is used. And all of that, as it has done for centuries is changing. Sure, technology is part of the reason, but not the whole of the reason. Our needs, desire, passions and pains to learn are changing. Survival is an entirely different beast when you are not facing the 22 foot gleaming teeth of a giant angry pre-historic badger. How we survive and what we are surviving is different, so how and what we learn to survive must be as well.
So, let’s start the debate with an open blue sky of thought. It shouldn’t be never-ending or ponderous. It is not a left-wing rant nor is it an affordance or a luxury that we can’t afford. We have to ask ourselves, our friends and colleagues and our leaders the question ‘What is the next generation of learning?’ As I ask in the earlier blog post, what will our 2025 selves tell us about what we should have prepared for? And most importantly, we need to ground that in some thinking, exploring and evidence, then we will know exactly how we will design the environments that the learning of the future will sit in.
Some strange things seem to be happening in the learning technology and T&L debates at the moment. There appears to be a growing presence of an anti-tech resistance, challenging the efficacy of technology (and those who use it). Some of these ‘think pieces’ question the motivations of those using technology in their class (both students and teachers), demean the status of social media as an active and fertile ground for intellectual debate, try and institute blanket bans for the good of the learner and actively argue that we need to ‘get back to chalk’. These have become battle lines in a fake war between protectors and challengers, defenders of the faith versus the barbarians at the gate. The innocent victims in all this posturing and puffery are the engaged teachers and learners (thanks @antonycoombsHE for the input). We can see the small bubbles of evidence for this assertion increasingly breaking through to the surface Let’s take Facebook as the canary in the coal mine;
There are universities who ban Facebook from fixed PCs in labs and student spaces (on the suggestion of other students, apparently)
The continued resistance (and active calls to ban) the use of student devices in lectures and tutorials, because of the assertion that ‘they will just be checking their Facebook’
On the other hand, a lot of Facebook led pilots at a delivery or curricula level have failed because students don’t like ‘their’ Facebook being hijacked for learning (although there is a lot of evidence that they are stopping using Facebook entirely, or use it to talk to each other, not the teacher!)
Universities wanting to hold some sway of what their staff say on social media to present a unanimity of opinion (including Facebook).
In the end, these are pointless battles in an entirely distracting conflict. We are arguing about the toss and not about the game. It doesn’t matter what devices are in their hands. What matters most is good teaching. Does it matter that you have a pair of red shoes on? No. What matters is that they make you feel good. It matters that they help people identify or find you. It matters that they stop that puddle you stepped in from making your socks a squidgy mess. What matters is the experiences that people participate in. Good teaching at its heart is the creation and facilitation of experience. There is an old marketing truism that I have always found insightful. People don’t buy ¼ inch drill bits, they but ¼ inch holes. Good teaching is not the fact that someone has a MacBook open or that you have created a PowerPoint slide or even that you have knowledge that you believe someone else needs to become an expert. Good teaching creates environments and conditions for learning experiences to happen. And the creation and nourishment of any experience is a product of a complex interplay of environmental factors. Good teachers hold and move the faders on those factors in order to achieve some form of synergy. Technology is without doubt one of those factors but by itself is like breathing only the nitrogen part of the air.
Good teaching is device/platform/OS agnostic
The kind of devices that people use or the sometimes desperate need to find a use for a piece of technology in teaching (Pokémon GO, it is the new Snapchat) become the easier conversations to have, especially amongst learning technologists and educational developers. Yes, the type of technology being used can and does influence the experiences people learn from. And yes, if the technology doesn’t work it can impact on that experience as well. And yes again, maybe a new platform or social media will seed good ideas and promote innovation. None of these assertions are wrong. But (and there is always a but), by themselves they are the less confronting conversation to have, because they are ignoring the elephant in the room. Good teaching is a hard thing to do. Good teaching is a challenging and emotionally draining thing to do. Good teaching lifts you high and can smack you down, sometimes in the space of a single class. Good teaching sees devices and uses them when they can contribute or challenge or transform what you are trying to do in your class.
Denial is not an instrument of good teaching
Making someone turn a device off in order to help them learn is not a critical approach to teaching. I used to work with a teacher who brought a bucket of water into his classroom and said ‘if I hear a phone go off, it goes into the water’. Why have we become so afraid of a phone? Sure, you may want a debate or discussion that asks people to engage, visually and actively. But what kind of learning can devices help with? Learning about how people learn. So, what actually goes on behind that sea of glowing white apples you see in your lecture? Have they all got Facebook open? Probably. Are they chatting with their mates? Yeah. Are they looking up words and definitions on Wikipedia? Almost certainly. How about providing them with a backchannel for conversation using a twitter hashtag, so that you can answer questions. How about providing them with a list of sites where they can check up definitions of words that match the kind of materials you use. Denial just leads to resistance and rebellion. Nothing good will come of it.
Good teaching is enabled by good communications. Technology changes the way we communicate
I am not describing all technology as simply instrumental tools, without power to influence good teaching. The way technology is used to collaborate, share, critique, engage (this list is endless) shapes the way we communicate. Creativity is democratised. Identity is fluid. Spaces are safe and dangerous. Risk is minimised and multiplied. People learn differently. To ignore social media and its transformative community of practices would be a dangerous ignorance. That doesn’t mean we have to all communicate through twitter in 140 characters, nor does it mean that crowdsourcing and Yelp recommendations will replace academic knowledge as the purest form of thought. But it is in those very defences against using technology that one of the most fundamental tensions in higher education lies; you are either with us or against us. It is a polarised debate, with no middle ground and a series of entrenched positions backed with rigid institutional structures and policies and with all the risk dumped heavily on the shoulders of students. If they choose to deny themselves the use of technology to live their lives, will that help them pass? How strong is the gravitational pull of a 2:1? Does the view of Professor Dr Jones requiring them to only use printed book sources for their essay outweigh their need for employable skills? So, how do they respond? They tell us to use our technology better; we want better PowerPoints, we want the VLE to do stuff to help us learn. And when we can be left on our own to study and prepare and learn (like we are for 90% of our HE experience), we will do things our way. We will use social media, we will chat with each other using whatever apps we like, we will share cool stuff and be visual and we will communicate and engage with people all over the world sharing knowledge, experiences and expertise. Because that is what we do. That is how we communicate and live our lives.
It doesn’t matter what is in their hands, it will be there and it will be used. It is none of our concern whether it is in their hands or not. Knowing it is in their hands empowers both them and us to make better learning experiences.
Title image from https://www.flickr.com/photos/karolfranks/7266270182
Part 3 of this extended blog post will focus on how to ‘do’ post-digital learning experiences and make them work as part of an integrated approach to learning and curriculum design. And the glue that holds these approaches together is design thinking. Design thinking represents an interesting conceptual framework in which to think about teaching and learning. Meinel and Leifer (2010) describe four tenets or rules of a design thinking approach;
The human rule – all design activity is ultimately social in nature
The ambiguity rule – design thinkers must preserve ambiguity
The re-design rule – all design is re-design
The tangibility rule – making ideas tangible always facilitates communication
These frames help explore solutions for what design thinkers called ‘wicked problems’; difficult, intractable, nebulous or impossibly contrary questions that challenge the structures and fabrics of practice. In higher education, wicked problems are pervasive and disruptive for evolving and emerging practices. They arise from the relationship between learners and teachers, between the faculty and institution, between the centre and the Schools, between technology and things remaining the same as they have always been. But within the design thinking approach there are some perceptive and practical insights that can inform the idea of learning experiences as a critical factor in learning and teaching design.
Human – Teaching and learning is a human activity. It is social and is guided and shaped by the mores, tropes and vagaries of human communication. Identity, status, privilege, roles, language and intent are pushed into a sense of hyper-reality in the context of education.
Ambiguity is a parlour trick we often use to ensure the fourth wall remains unbreakable. And next week, you will find out the secret of passing the exam, this week I will tempt, next week I will taunt, maybe a bit of tease the following week. But ambiguity also can be a positive, taking the next step without knowing what is underfoot; leaping off a cliff hoping there will be someone there to catch you. Ambiguity is more than a cliff-hanger. It is a function of learning as an adult, because life is ambiguous.
Re-design – Almost all teaching is a process of redesign, whether its curation, remixing, re-purposing, summarising, aggregating, commenting.
Tangibility – making it and keeping it real. Case studies, application, life experience, problem solving, practicality, it’s all there in what most people call good teaching and learning.
Post-digital learning experiences are a design thinking process. How do we break the intractable nooses of institutional entropy, technological tensions and the incongruity of expectation? How do we design tangibility, ambiguity and humanity into teaching and learning so that outcomes are enhanced, durability of learning continues to extend, transferability of experience is enhanced and the effectiveness of education is exponentially increased? How do we do design thinking for learning? This post will explore how to design learning experiences relevant for the post-digital age. The PDLE idea comes from applying a design thinking approach to the wicked problem of teaching and learning in a modern institution, with modern learners and modern disciplines. It comes from the debate constructed so often in my blog about what happens if we do nothing. What happens if we ignore the changes in learners, learning and society and carry on advocating the holy virtue of pen, paper and note taking? What happens if we ask people to turn their devices off in order to learn or demonise them for wasting time on frivolous uses of technology? Because often, that is where we are and that is the entrenched position defended to the death by the pure of heart from the marauding techno-hordes. It comes from the way people design stuff other than learning. Art, media, careers, discoveries, business, innovation and their lives.
Found is the first of the post-digital learning experiences because it is the one closest to my own practice. The notion of making sense from discovery is at the heart of learning. It has not all been written or discovered. There are huge swathes of undiscovered countries. At the core of found are two very powerful learning experiences; bricolage and discovery. Found represents a way of explaining the sheer capacity of knowledges. Found is a way of understanding something, explaining something, adding a sense of the undiscovered and the unknown;
Asking the question without knowing the answer
Story without an ending
Problems without solutions
As a learning experience found can have many guises. From the discovery of new and exciting ways of thinking and seeing, to the co-opting of knowledge from diverse disciplines in order to have insights into your own. From seeing an image and telling a story, through to the remix and re-purposing culture of digital media making, through to the finding of meaning, found can change the way learning happens. However, much of modern learning uses found in its paste tense form. Knowledge has already been found, and the job of the academy is to present you that knowledge. The job of the research academic is to find out more. The student is not the finder. The student is the repeater of found knowledge. The student is the next in the chain of Chinese whispers. In a modern bricolage culture, found is no longer a past tense. It is a sense of future discovery; it is a label for artefacts and raw material. Learning experiences that build on found enhance curiosity, complex linkages, independent thinking, collective intelligence, the progression of knowledge and an educational ambition that sets to to make that sure that there is more than that to be found. Knowledge as an experience is not static in a found learning design. It is a body of active pieces waiting to be reconstructed, reinterpreted, rediscovered and reused.
There has been an incredibly large amount written about making (in a post-digital world). For a much better exposition of this idea, I point you to the work of David Gauntlett and his brilliant piece on making called ‘Making is Connecting’. Making is a core learning experience. It is rooted in conceptual frameworks like creativity, problem solving, tactility, abstract thinking and practicality. Maker spaces have traditionally been the realm of engineering and sciences but I have been advocating the creation of maker spaces for a wide variety of disciplines. I am working on what a maker space would like look for the social sciences. At the core of making for me is the concept of owning. The learner owns the experience, the space, the outcome and the solutions. Making challenges the theoretical safety net of HE to be realised in a practical environment. Equally, creativity is a fundamental. Technology has democratised creativity. Technology has made your ability to make with others, share with contemporaries and make your making available exponentially wider and easier. Everyone is creative in some way. Creating learning experiences that provide people with the opportunity to make something opens up avenues of learning that consumption and reception can never replicate. It might be as simple as a case or simulation right through to technology-led practices like media making, app development, product design or innovation. There is a growing movement to make making more explicit and tactile, maker spaces and labs, simple to use but complex apps that allow everything from music making, to knowledge presentation through to design work to be done on a tablet. Making is a design activity that is multi-sensual, trans-disciplinary and a tookkit for life-long learning.
I have written a lot about identity in a post-digital age. It is a complex thing, caught flash hard in the debates about safety, responsibility, expression and citizenship. Identity as a learning experience is inherently trans-disciplinary, providing a skill relevant across learning trajectories. Without re-hashing the debates about digital identity (that you can see splashed through my blog history), there are some key aspects relevant to learning design. Identity formation is a critical learning experience; what is your identity within a discipline? Where do you fit into traditions and discourses? Identity sharing is a learning experience at the heart of effective portfolio learning, professional development and connected experiences. Identity development is a 21st century skill, knowing how to use and develop, manage and nuance multiple identities for different aspects of your life. I have written a lot about the digital stranger (the person who reveals only small slices of themselves in an on-line environment, made easier by avatars, light touch registrations and the blurring of identity in social media) and how fleeting connections with people can shape thinking and development of beliefs and practice. One of my favourite writers, Stephen Brookfield (1984) really nailed this idea in an article called ‘Tales from the dark side: a phenomenography of adult critical reflection’ In this seminal piece, he talks about how identity impacts directly on how we reflect critically as practitioners, identifying senses like impostership (the idea that reflection is not for the ‘likes of me’, cultural suicide (that to be true and honest in reflection could be shaming of friends) and lost innocence (that reflection troubles to address ambiguities best left unaddressed) as darker sides of identity interacting with communication, reflection and the practices of teaching.
From the way media can be shared and critiqued, to peer assessment, through to exploring and interrogating the necessity of anonymous double blind marking, identity is a learning experience that crosses through much of the learning activity we engage in. And like the rest of these learning experiences, it is not the sole domain of our students. Identity is at the heart of teaching practice too. The cult of the expert, the theatricality of the fourth wall in a lecture, the capacity to always be right and the artifice that protects poor assessment and feedback from anything other than student satisfaction criticism are all informed by crisis’ and concepts of identity.
‘Play is at the heart of human behaviour, encouraging healthy relationships, enhanced literacy and creativity (Saracho & Spodek, 1998) and a better developed approach to work and career (Hartung, 2002). Play is not risk free, with some arguing that the best learning should hurt (Mann, 1996). Margitay-Becht and Herrera (2010) note that ‘fun is learning’ and observed little resistance by staff to engaging in fun activities such as virtual worlds and gaming but much higher resistance from the students, who wanted their experiences rooted in reality and play for the times after learning.’
We all play. Life is full of play. And play is equal parts fun and risk. Some of the most fun we have ever have is when we play with risk. Jumping from planes, falling off slippery dips or singing our signature song at Karaoke, this time in front of a live audience (I will tell you mine, if you share yours. All song titles in the comments!). Play is great. Trouble is that learning can be so damned serious. Brows get furrowed. Stress balls are made from competing deadlines. It seems that we are happy when are students aren’t having fun but worrying and stressing. Part of life. And then there is us. Where has the fun gone in our jobs? Counting down the months, weeks, days, hours and minutes to holidays. The stress of tenure and the worry that if even the smallest thing goes wrong, we are back searching on jobs.ac.uk. Failure isn’t an option when it comes to pedagogy. NSS scores, student evaluations, the push to higher and higher student achievement have driven all the fun and experimentation out of teaching. So, how do we bring play back into learning? We have to encourage students to experiment, to fail, to fall flat on their faces or find themselves succeeding despite their best efforts, all in safe way. It is no longer acceptable to simply get a degree in the UK. You need a good degree (although hopefully this stupidity is now changing). We have to support a culture where play and experimentation are natural components of good teaching. Where we learn as much from failure as we do from success and we bring students along with us on the ride. That way they don’t feel like guinea pigs when they are paying £9000 fees.
Play means a chance to use games, digital storytelling, media making, Lego, role plays and other mechanisms that break reality and put people into slightly uncomfortable roles. I used to run a class where I used a thing called interactive case studies. These were all set around a restaurant where certain characters created a scenario for HR or management students. I asked for a few volunteers from the class to play these characters. I gave each ‘actor’ some basic character traits and asked them to improvise the characters based around them (simple traits like ‘always brought things back to them’ or ‘always lies’ or ‘will always support character Doris, even when she is wrong). Sometimes it worked, and other times I had to step in, moderate and lead. But every time I ran it, it was fun. People laughed and played. I gave people who weren’t feeling comfortable to chance to ‘tag’ another student into their role. This was a safe space. There were no grades, no pressure, some risk of public performance, but it was all about learning. It tapped into identity, roles, perceptions and attitudes, all crucial skills for people management. We learn through play. It doesn’t have to infantalise or regress people. Adults play. But experimentation and play, whether it be through humour, or simulation or gamification are effective post-digital learning experiences.
Life is chaotic, messy, non-linear, traumatic, joyful, unexpected and unpredictable. Memory is much the same. Learning however, is in the main structured, scaffolded, episodic and linear. This tension could afford education with a unique opportunity to develop skills in navigating, leveraging and riding the chaos. Instead, it tries to control it and at worst ignore it, assuming normalcy and norms dominate. This norm driven perspective assumes for example, that the jobs that existed when a student started their degree look exactly like the world they will enter three years later.
Discontinuity as a learning experience takes the fear and uncertainty that arises from not knowing if there is something waiting for your next foot fall and learns from the calculations, assumptions and sometimes faith (in the truly atheist sense) that goes through your brain in the split second before you step. It lets the learner enter the story at the middle, or the end and work through the problem in reverse, identifying and challenging assumptions. It shows them the natural end of a discourse and asks them to reverse engineer how we got there. To identify what assumptions were inherent in the debate and what shaped arguments, discoveries or transformative moments. It drops them in the centre of a problem, like the middle of a maze and encourages then to find and deduct their way out. Chaos is equally as powerful a learning experience. The wash of not knowing what is happening, that slight out of control feeling that eventually coalesces (usually around assessment time) has been part of higher education for years. It can be dizzying, challenging and uncomfortable, like many of the things we experience in life and work. Replicating even a dash of that through discursive activities, breaking of routines, cracking the fourth wall or challenging power structures brings an element of safe free fall into learning. And it makes for authentic experiences that replicate the way we in part live our lives. All of which brings us to…
This is an interesting concept, not less for the debates around what is authentic. Authenticity as a learning experience is rooted in ensuring that what the learner does feels and in effect is real. Realness is a very fuzzy concept in an on-line world. From the variability of identity to the mask of reality that on-line interaction can afford participants, defining something as authentic is difficult. We may have defined authenticity in learning pre-digital age as things like field trips, simulations, model offices, work based learning or professional practice. But in a more complex learning world what can constitute as authentic? At a simple level, it is about making sure that the learning experience means something, that it is not simply a test of character, or the rite of passage afforded to those who get to experience higher education, as an ivory tower hall of rotating knives. At a more concrete level, it is about the skills required to develop ethical frameworks, approaches to working with and supporting people, developing and changing the world, and an academic/student relationship that is built on a dialogue or a conversation where each are shaped by the interaction, not a monologue delivered by someone who will never know your name. Authentic experiences are not easy to facilitate, in fact, I would argue that it is the hardest of the PDLE. It is inherently personal. Authentic experiences rely on trust, the developing of a relationship, the exchange of experiences and the realization that learning is a complex amalgam of the interpersonal and personal.
‘…it’s through participation in communities that deep learning occurs. People don’t learn to become physicists by memorizing formulas; rather it’s the implicit practices that matter most. Indeed, knowing only the explicit, mouthing the formulas, is exactly what gives an outsider away. Insiders know more. By coming to inhabit the relevant community, they get to know not just the “standard” answers, but the real questions, sensibilities, and aesthetics, and why they matter.’ (Brown 2001)
Community is something that people crave for from a university experience. Being part of a learning community (as opposed to a community of learners) is empowering. But equally when that community can crowd-source knowledge and solve problems, when that community can leverage the power of the massive and through technology can span location, engage in social behaviours and create and share knowledge then it becomes truly transformative. Community learning experiences build on the social aspects of learning; collaboration, collective assessment and engagement, group work etc and social media changes that game entirely.
‘Social media has facilitated a complex, co-created and immediate form of learning response, where content and openness challenge the closed, structured nature of modern higher education . Social media has had significant impacts on the way learners connect with people and with the knowledge they require in order to learn across a variety of contexts. Social media support more than user interactivity, they support the development and application of user-generated content, collaborative learning, network formation, critical inquiry, relationship building, information literacy, dynamic searching and reflection.’
A social media community is far more than Facebook and Twitter. Social media explore innovative pedagogical practices like making, ideation, creation, critique, sociality, connected practice, crowd-sourcing, entrepreneurship, digital citizenship, media making, identity, politics and policy. And that is just the start. The communities that form on social media are equally fleeting as they are lasting, large as they are intimate, collaborative as they individual. They support lurkers, talkers, loud mouths, itinerants and learners. Social media are being used by your students now. They may be consuming yours, making their own, using their existing networks to find out stuff or leaving others because they have developed and moved on. Yes, they can have arseholes in them, but so can a bus. Yes, they have trolls, but so does a classroom. Community formation and development through social media is not a ‘trend’, it isn’t ‘new’ nor will it go away like fax-based learning (was that ever a thing?). Social media is for the foreseeable future how the internet is wired. It is how society is increasingly wired and it is how many people form and nurture their communities, inside and outside work. Sure, not everyone is an expert or a natural at social media. Not everyone likes talking on phones neither. Doesn’t mean we never used them for work.
There you have them. Seven post-digital learning experiences. None of them are ‘new’. They are all built on good teaching practices that we have done ourselves or experienced. They are rooted in deep traditions of experience, both socially and professionally. They are not exclusively digital, but they are amplified and enhanced in a digital environment. Technology makes them more possible and multiplies their potential. They will work in off-line, blended and on-line environments because in a post-digital institution, there is no discernible difference. They will will in open, free learning and closed residential experiences. I know, we have made them work. This is the shape of learning in the 21st century. It is complex for sure. It is not as simple as a voice in the room and the furious scribbling of pens. It is not something that can be summarised in a high stakes exam. But to be honest; effective, active, real learning has never been that anyway.