Monthly Archive for September, 2009

Durbin Open Textbook Bill Finally Introduced!

Earlier this year I blogged about what I thought should go into an open textbook bill (with clarifications the next day). I’m extremely pleased that Senator Durbin has introduced a bill which closely resembles these recommendations and therefore, to my mind, is on exactly the right track. You can read Durbin’s remarks as he introduced the bill, and then study the full text of S. 1714 on GovTrack (where you can also subscribe to a feed of all bill-related activity).

The bill creates a competitive grant program supporting the creation of open textbooks, and most importantly requires applicants to submit:

(C) a plan for distribution and adoption of the open textbook to ensure the widest possible adoption of the open textbook in postsecondary courses, including, where applicable, a marketing plan or a plan to partner with for-profit or nonprofit organizations to assist in marketing and distribution; and

(D) a plan for tracking and reporting formal adoptions of the open textbook within postsecondary institutions, including an estimate of the number of students impacted by the adoptions.

This is terrifically exciting to me, as it will bring a real sense of urgency of impact into the discourse, and provide the OER community with good data and metrics to talk with confidence about the amount of money students are saving thanks to open textbooks.

The most interesting part of the bill is Section 5. on LICENSING MATERIALS WITH A FEDERAL CONNECTION:

In General- Notwithstanding any other provision of law, educational materials such as curricula and textbooks created through grants distributed by Federal agencies, including the National Science Foundation, for use in elementary, secondary, or postsecondary courses shall be licensed under an open license.

This language provides nothing short of an NIH-style mandate on all publicly funded curriculum, and does not appear to be limited to the textbooks whose creation is funded by the bill. This is huge! It’s like FRPAA for educational materials!

Those of us who consulted on the drafts during the spring / summer were waiting to see how Durbin would choose to deal with the licensing issue, and the bill takes a middle road, requiring textbooks funded under the program to also use an “open license,” which the bill defines as “an irrevocable intellectual property license that grants the public the right to access, customize, and distribute a copyrighted material.” No specific license (or family of licenses) is mentioned or required.

This is a great day for the open education movement! If you have a representative on the Senate Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions Committee, contact them to make sure they support this legislation!

The LHC and Education

I’ve always been impressed by the idea of the Large Hadron Collider. It’s an unthinkably expensive, large-scale experimental apparatus designed for the sole purpose of generating and collecting data. Why would countries spend so much money on data? Why would so many people dedicate the better part of their lives to a project like the LHC? Because the so-called “hard” sciences – fields like physics and astronomy – have made the remarkable progress they have in understanding the structure of matter and the nature of the universe because they really care about data. They care about data in a way that educators have a difficult time comprehending, let alone understanding.

The data that we, educators, gather and utilize is all but garbage. What passes for data for practicing educators? An aggregate score in a column in a gradebook. A massive, course-grained rolling up of dozens or hundreds of items into a single, collapsed, almost meaningless score. “Test 2: 87.” What teacher maintains item-level data for the exams they give? What teacher keeps this data semester to semester, year-to year? What teacher ever goes back and reviews this historical data? After a recent tweet on this topic, a number of colleagues accused me of having physics envy. Believe me, you don’t have to wish you were a physicist to be disappointed by the quality of data educators have access to.

I’m beginning to believe that we’ve got it completely backwards. For decades we’ve been trying to use technology to improve the effectiveness of education. How, specifically, have we tried to use technology? At a high level, we’ve tried to use it to deliver content to learners. The goal has been to “find something that works,” and then deliver that something (interactive content, etc.) to learners at high fidelity and low cost. In our attempts to deliver effective content at scale, I believe we have had a nationwide (if not worldwide) encounter with the reusability paradox, which I first wrote about at length in 2001. Briefly stated, the reusability paradox says that, due to context effects, the pedagogical effectiveness of content and its potential for reuse are orthogonal to another. This finding is too inconvenient to accept, as it would destroy or severely maim the prominent paradigm of educational technology research, and so it has been roundly ignored by the educational research community.

While using technology to deliver content seems to have had no noticeable impact (or even a slightly negative) on the effectiveness of education, using technology to deliver content has had a huge impact on the accessibility of education. Think of distance learning… Think of opencourseware and open educational resources… Think of the millions of people who now have access that never would have had access otherwise. The impact of using technology to deliver content on increasing access to education is completely unassailable and totally undeniable.

So, if using technology to deliver content is not improving the effectiveness of education, is there another way we might use technology that can? I believe there is. I believe it so strongly that for the first time in several years I am opening a new line of research. I believe (and I fully admit that it is only a belief at this point) that using technology to capture, manage, and visualize educational data in support of teacher decision making has the potential to vastly improve the effectiveness of education. Think of it as “educational data mining” or “educational analytics.” For example, think of all the data, algorithms, and resources that go into selecting ads to show in search engine results and other places around the web, and then think of using all that horsepower to make suggestions to teachers about appropriate opportunities to intervene with students.

The Open High School of Utah is the first context in which I’m studying this use of technology. Because it is an online high school, every interaction students have with content (the order in which they view resources, the time they spend viewing them, the things they skip, etc.) and every interaction they have with assessments (the time they spend answering them, their success in answering them, etc.) can all be captured and leveraged to support teachers. The OHSU teaching model, which we call “strategic tutoring,” involves using these data to prioritize which students need the most help and enabling brief tutoring sessions. A teacher’s typical day involves visiting the dashboard, viewing the first student in a prioritized list of students, seeing what s/he needs help on, and engaging him/her by Skype, phone, IM, or other means, for a very brief, very targeted individual tutoring session. Then the next student, then the next student, etc. Students who are on track or working ahead in the online curriculum don’t have to wait for an interaction with the teacher (they’re succeeding, after all), and those who need help get it – individualized, just in time, and sometimes before they even know they need it. From a caring human being – not a supposedly intelligent tutoring system.

Now, if the OHSU wasn’t delivering content online we couldn’t capture all this data. So in one sense, it’s key to deliver content online – if only to get the types of data we need to support teachers supporting students. But currently, we’re stopping short, confusing the means for the end.

Another realization that comes part way down this path is that our instructional design programs may teach people how to design instruction that is motivating and engaging, but we don’t even begin to teach people how to design materials and systems that capture the right kinds of data. We don’t even discuss what the “right” kinds of data might be.

Coming back to the LHC, I think meaningful progress in education will depend on educators becoming infected with a passion for data like the LHC embodies. Not rolled up percentile scores, coarse-grained data that obscure all the meaningful details we might care about. We need access to real-time data on every individual student every day of the year, we need tools and techniques for supporting teachers in interpreting the data, we need new teaching models that leverage the existence of these data and tools, etc. This is what I think technology-enhanced education is supposed to be.

The investment it would take to deploy such an infrastructure would rival the cost of the LHC, but would be almost impossible to make – because educators either don’t care about data or have a vision of data that is limited by their own experience recording things in a gradebook or spreadsheet. Using technology in creative ways could provide us with so much more data it would boggle the imagination… It could transform the teacher’s work from one based on hunches and intuitions to one actually based on data. And low and behold, we might actually move the needle a bit when we combine the best of hardcore empiricism with the best of caring, nurturing people.

We’ll certainly never meet Bloom’s 2 sigma challenge if we think the proper role of technology in education is simply delivering content (whether interactive, intelligent, or otherwise). However, if we get serious about capturing and using data to support teacher decision-making and improve student learning, we may have something.

Rimsky-Korsakov and OCW

Driving home from a meeting last week I heard a truly atrocious recording of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, one of my favorite pieces for orchestra. The conductor’s interpretation (or complete lack thereof) had me screaming at the radio and almost putting my head through the steering wheel on a couple of occasions.

The best recording of this fabulous piece of music is, in my not so humble opinion, John Mauceri leading the London Symphony Orchestra – (previews available from Amazon at Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade). How does this relate to OCW, you ask?

For a number of years there has been an opinion among some in the OCW community that we need (only) one really excellent open version of each of the high enrolling GE courses like English 101. My experience in the car reminded me why several different versions of open courses are necessary. Obviously, a rather talented conductor had led a rather competent orchestra in this recording, and NPR had liked it well enough to play it. But it was truly awful. Painfully so.

In education, as in music, matters of taste matter. No, you won’t learn more or remember longer when the teaching is adapted to your so-called “learning style,” but the experience will be much more pleasant when it is. And who hasn’t sat through a class that made you want to put your head through the desk? I never want to have that excruciating experience again, neither with music nor with learning.

Eric Frank of Flat World Knowledge on CBC Radio

The CBC has posted a great interview with Eric Frank of Flat World Knowledge about open textbooks. While an abbreviated version will run on the air, you can listen to (and download) the full, uncut interview online.

Of OpenCourseWare and Lowriders

George has written a thoughtful post about issues with OCW 1.0 projects titled Utah State OpenCourseWare, lowriders, and system design.

A few quotes and then some response:

Utah State University has announced the closure of its OpenCourseWare initiative due to budget woes. I call nonsense (or BS). Apparently OCW needed $120,000 per year. Given the size of Utah State University, I’m going to guess they have an annual operating budget somewhere in the range of $300-400 million. This is not a budget shortfall – this is a commitment shortfall. 120K is a fraction of a fraction in light of the larger university budget.

This illustrates my concern about centrally organized open educational initiatives – they have a single point of failure: funding…

The OER and OCW movement(s) are fundamentally flawed in where they assign openness. Openness is being treated as separate from curriculum development and delivery. Openness is viewed as an after market feature. And most universities aren’t too eager to pay for the extras.

George makes a critical point, and one that everyone needs to understand. The model I call OCW 1.0 he calls the “aftermarket” model. No matter what you call it, it’s impossible to sustain a program that incurs large, ongoing costs that are exclusive to OCW – which is why I predicted in the spring that the list of universities engaged in active OCW projects three years from now will look very different than it did back in May 2009 (yes, all the big names will be gone if they don’t completely reinvent themselves).

George writes, “Openness should be built into the process of curriculum design – it should be systematized.” In places where the process of curriculum design is practiced, like the campus teaching and learning center, this is absolutely true. However, how many faculty actually use such services? Unfortunately, the vast majority of faculty members don’t engage in a thoughtful process of curriculum design – they just do what they do.

In order for open education to reach its varied potentials, openness must become a core cultural value for each and every faculty member. This is a decade-long project if we’re lucky, and requires significant investment in faculty training (the way we had pushes on our campuses a few years ago to help everyone understand the importance of diversity). While we work on that (and we are working on that), the critical question for me is, what do we do in the ten years between now and then? Should we do nothing until we’re capable of doing it “right” in 2020, or are partial solutions (like OCW 1.0 and even OCW 2.0) better than nothing as we make that long journey?