This new emphasis applies to *you* as well, however, since we will (of create) these courses as open educational resources that anyone and everyone will be able to use. I’m also extremely excited to say that we will also offer something like a “certificate” program for people who would like to take the courses in a more formal way (at a distance) but don’t want to enroll in the PhD program for whatever reason (I certainly can’t imagine any reasons ).

So my question to all of you is… if you could create a four or five course elective sequence in open education, what topics would you choose to teach? Here are some ideas for possible courses:

Introduction to Open Education
Introduces students to the history of the open education movement; important open education projects around the world; significant NGOs, Foundations, and other organizations involved in the open education movement; the writings of authors associated with open education; and legal issues related to the field. Representative readings include declarations and reports of the United Nations, UNESCO, and the OECD; overviews of the OpenCourseWare Consortium and One Laptop Per Child project, work by the William and Flora Hewlett Foundation; writings by Paulo Friere, John Dewey, Bekir Gur, Larry Lessig, and Katarina Tomasevski; copyright and licensing issues related to open education.

Overview of Issues in Rural Areas and the Developing World
An interdisciplinary course co-taught by several faculty (both inside and outside Utah State University). Representative topics include nutrition, literacy, agriculture, water, HIV, human trafficking, microfinance, and instructional technology. This is a service-oriented course in which student groups partner with individuals from villages or rural towns to understand specific local problems and perhaps contribute toward the creation of solutions.

Finding and Localizing Open Educational Resources
A hands-on course familiarizing students with ways of finding open educational resources and the software tools and instructional design techniques for adapting resources to meet local needs. Students will adapt and localize several increasingly complex open educational resources as part of the class. Representative topics include using Google; determining the quality of an existing open educational resource; working with HTML, video, and audio; translation; audience analysis.

Creating Open Educational Resources
A hands on course that builds on knowledge of software tools, instructional design techniques, and exemplary content taught in Finding and Localizing to teach students to build their own high quality open educational resources. Students will create and share several increasingly complex open educational resources as part of the class. Representative topics include deciding when education is an appropriate intervention, the systematic design of educational materials, technologies for sharing open educational resources with the world, and how to select an appropriate license.

What have I left out? Over-emphasized? For example, I already know I need a more international flavor to the readings in the first proposed course (I am at the Open University of Catalonia today beginning to work on this part of the problem). What kind of course would *you* want to take?

• Learn about how to use wikis and blogs in education at wikiblogedu.org. (Don’t forget to pick up a Rick Noblenski t-shirt afterwards).
• Learn how to prepare for and carry off an effective job interview at Interviewing Basics.
• Learn how to find or make clean water after a natural disaster at the Open Water Project.

Enjoy these!

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about these declarations since they started appearing, and I’ve come to the somewhat troubling conclusion that I don’t think I care if learning objects are dead or not. My primary interest always has been, and I suspect always will be, in increasing access to educational opportunity to people who have been denied that right for any of a variety of reasons. I loved the learning objects idea because the “write once, use anywhere” idea had a lot of economic appeal – once an object had been created for whatever reason, we could copy it (for free) and send it (for very close to free) almost anywhere around the world to be employed in the exercise of an individual’s right to education.

For a very long time now (in 1999, in 2000, and heck, NSF even gave me a CAREER award founded on this criticism in 2002) I’ve been saying that the idea of LEGO-like assembly of resources simply will not work from a learning perspective. The role of context is simply too great in learning, and the expectation that any educational resource could be reused without some contextual tweaking was either naive or stupid. I will here attribute learning objects’ inability to live up to the incredible hype and investment they received to the fact that the premise of the possibility of simple reuse was simply wrong.

An example.

The ultimate success story in the “write once, use anywhere” history of educational materials is the textbook. However, you will notice in this long and storied history that there has never been any confusion over whether or not a collection of algebra, algebra ii, geometry, trig, and calc textbooks could be “simple sequenced” and presented to a learner without additional contextualization and support. Or that the sections in one of these books could be simple sequenced (to become the textbook) for use by learners without significant contextualization and support. As I enjoy saying frequently, “libraries would never have evolved into universities” if all that education depended on were preexisting, high-quality resources.

So if learning objects are dead – and they may be – what is it that we should care about? As instructional technologists interested in further empowering people to exercise their right to education, what should be the focus of our design and research efforts? In a previous JIME article Stephen left the idea of learning objects behind and encouraged us to think simply about “resources,” and get away from the jargon of learning objects. There’s something to the idea of simplifying things that I like quite a bit. However, for my purposes (and I readily recognize they may not be your purposes) I have a need for something more than just resources. As I’ve thought about that need, I think it is best expressed as easily localizable resources.

In the first round of learning objects definition wars, I contributed “any digital resource that can be reused to mediate learning” as my best shot. In retrospect, the primary weakness of this definition was supposed to be the keyword it all hinged upon: “reuse.” Because the systems that authored, managed, and delivered learning objects were all software systems, the majority of the people doing the actual work on learning objects implementations were software engineers (or people parading as software engineers). “Reuse” was almost unanimously interpreted by this group as “technical interoperability” with no thought for the pedagogic, semiotic, or other contextual dimensions of the term. The whole learning objects field of work turned into a giant software engineering exercise aimed at answering the question “can your content send scores for true / false items to my management system?” Because the term reuse (as used by many more people than just me, I’m certainly not trying to hoard all the blame here) was only partially understood, learning never really got into learning object systems. If anything, they were “technically interoperable content systems.”

Now, for my money, the technical interoperability of content doesn’t need to go much further than “can be properly rendered by most web browsers.” (IMS or SCORM Content Packaging is nice since it gives us a way to move metadata around with content, but my last statement was about content.) When you really believe that reusing educational resources is a contextualization or localization exercise, and not a matter of intelligently slapping a “Next =>” button somewhere on the object, it turns out that you don’t need much more in terms of technical interoperability than what every good students knows at the end of an HTML course. Create your content in such a way that it will render properly in most browsers and don’t purposefully futz with your source code so that people have a hard time seeing what you’ve done (WebCT’s HTML, anyone?). Feel as you may about the GPL, WebCT and others might do well to remember its language here:

Accompany it with the complete corresponding machine-readable source code, which must be distributed…on a medium customarily used for software interchange…. The source code for a work means the preferred form of the work for making modifications to it. For an executable work, complete source code means all the source code for all modules it contains, plus any associated interface definition files, plus the scripts used to control compilation and installation of the executable. GPL

What if all the effort and money spent hyping and building technically interoperable content systems had gone into better understanding the process of localizing educational materials, and developing whatever new tools were necessary to support that process? <sarcasm>Of course, there’s very little market for these processes and tools, because when you’re talking about supporting people who have been unable to exercise their right to education, you’re obviously talking about “poor people,” and how would you make any return on products developed for “poor people?” I mean, after all, how are they supposed to pay?</sarcasm>

So whether learning objects are dead or not, I couldn’t say. And to some extent, who cares? As long as people are willing to (1) openly share (2) educational materials that will (3) render properly in most web browsers, and they also (4) provide access to the unobfuscated source for the materials (especially for Flash files, Java applets, Photoshop images with many layers, and the like), I certainly don’t care. Argue about what to call them all you like – I’ll be busy trying to help someone somewhere figure out how to localize some of these things so that they can actually derive some value from them – maybe even improve their lives some. Won’t you help, too?

The notion of teacher as DJ may have been implied when people started applying the “rip-mix-burn” metaphor to education, but lately I can’t seem to get it out of my head. The similarities were there even when teachers worked primarily with paper textbooks and printed research articles, but is even more pronounced now in the era of digitized resources.

There are the obvious similarities… Both start with a collection of existing materials – acoustic resources like songs, sound effects, and samples, and educational resources like simulations, tutorials, and articles. Both sequence and blend these materials in interesting ways. Both do quite a bit of planning (think syllabus as playlist), perform in discrete blocks of time (think course meeting as set); and both have to make meaningful connections between the resources they choose to employ (think lecturing and discussion leading as beat matching).

Beat matching means getting two records perfectly in sync with each other, then using the crossfader to switch between them. Beat matching is a skill that every DJ must master. When you’re playing a rave, party, dance, or club, being able to segue (move smoothly) from one tune to another without losing the beat will help you keep the dance floor full.
from Beat Matching Tips

But it’s the similarity expressed in this last sentence that has kept me awake the last few nights. Clubbers vote with their feet, and generally do so very overtly. Learners vote with their attention, and generally do so very covertly. How do we, as teachers, “keep the dance floor full?” A skilled DJ can feel the energy coming off a crowd and respond very quickly when that group is starting to feel restless (and starting to abandon the dance floor). A skilled teacher can feel the energy coming off a class and respond very quickly when that group is starting to get restless (and starting to doodle, read books, play games on their cell phones, etc.). The DJ responds by playing different music, sticking with genres that the crowd likes. How does the teacher respond? By using different examples, sticking with the kinds of explanations that the learners resonate with? By understanding the rhythm of the class, by knowing when to “play a slow song?”

I believe that this exchange of energy between people is critically important. In all the talking we do about effective teaching, we frequently overlook this obvious, social component. I’m not sure why we expect learners to simply sit there, regardless of how unresponsive we are to the cues they give us, taking offensive if they behave as if they’re bored or complain about our classes. How would the dynamic change if learners felt free to vote with their feet like the clubbers, to walk off the dance floor whenever a class became too lame? This is exactly what online education enables them to do, and this is exactly why paying attention to the social component of these experiences is so much more critical in online learning. We must set up channels through which people can exchange this energy, and those serving as teachers must be ready and willing to respond to that energy. We must move beyond the idea that we can burn a 3 credit class onto a CD (or upload it into WebCT/Blackboard/Sakai) and hand it off to a learner with a “see you at the end of the semester.” We are DJs, and it is up to us to keep our learners on the dance floor.

Brett begins by saying that I am basically describing schema theory:

Let me first relate to what David thinks of the action-feedback loop that underlies all learning. This is what I first learned as basic schema theory, the way we interact with our environment is through a mechanism of perceiving our world, adjusting to what information we get, modifying what we know, then making an appropriate action. This is in slightly different order in what David mentions them, but basically its the same idea.

Brett acknowledges that he has things in a slightly different order, but characterizes his description as basically the same idea. While in many instances order does not matter, occasionally order makes a great deal of difference. Take the classic word order example: dog bites man / man bites dog. Order can make a big difference.

I think the order difference between “simulus-response” and “probe-gather data” is all the difference in the world. It is the difference between passively adapting to the world as you find it, and actively remaking the world to suit one’s own purposes. The undeniable reality is, of course, that as humans we work in both modalities. But perhaps the most important question we can ask is – which is the true nature of our learning experience? Are we really giant receptor mechanisms who occasionally co-opt this “response” mechanism to our own ends? Or are we really agents with goals and purposes who occasionally co-opt this “experimental” mechanism to meet circumstances beyond our control? I contend we are the latter. (The irony is not lost on me, of course, that I say that *in response* to Brett’s post.)

Brett goes on to say that as far as the mechanism is concerned, my description of learning sounds like most traditional cognitive theory. Absolutely. And most behavioral theory. I am unaware of a “learning theory” that does not view at least some of our learning as done through interacting – passing some form of abstract messages back and forth between ourselves and the environment.

(Digression: Possible exceptions to this pattern would be learning that comes through meditating or pondering, the burst-of-insight kind of learning. There are a number of ways this type of learning could also be charaterized as following the probe-gather data mechanism, including internal dialogue in which messages are passed back and forth within the learner, or inspiration in which messages are passed back and forth between the learner and the Infinite. But I really do digress.)

Brett continues:

To me, the complexity of learning lies in numerous other factors [other than message design], such as the social context in which it is experienced, the way the information is experienced (was it through passivity? Activity? Reflection? Application?), and the artifacts that share, contribute, and distribute what is “understood” (just to name a few). To me, an explanation of the action-feedback loop, on the most basic level, helps inform how we interact with our immediate environment, but does very little to inform how we as human beings gain complex understandings of our world and of each other.

I think, and I believe Brett will agree, that an overly simplistic and naive view of message design has been killing our field for the past several years. It is as if film students were taught that writing effective dialogue were all that mattered (BTW, have you seen Serenity yet?). Film makers understand that in addition to dialogue there must be plots, sets, scenery, costumes, music, lighting, character development, and a host of other contributing factors in order to really stir, move, or otherwise communicate with their audience. I agree completely with Brett that social context, the mode of experience, the nature of the artifacts, and a host of other factors are critical. We ignore these at our peril.

At a high level ADDIE may describe what is going on in instructional design, just as at a high level breathing, circulation, and (occasional) neural function may characterize what is going on in my life. But both of these accurate characterizations are somewhat dissatisfying in their lack of detail. As if all of Tolkein’s great writing could be summarized as “there was this bad guy, and he made an evil ring, but a good guy unmade it.”

To stand on a soapbox I have almost broken with use, effective instructional design is a radically interdisciplinary undertaking. “Message design” is Brett’s term, not mine, but to work with it I would say that a more sophisticated understanding of message design would include considerations like the sociocultural context in which the messages are being sent / received, the mode of their communication, and the artifacts in which they may be reified.

Coming back to my original statement of the learning mechanism, a question: Why is it that games account for more sales than movies? Because games are movies plus. The best games have characters, plots, scenery, music, lighting, and – critically – the opportunity for a person to express their own goals and purposes as part of the experience. Participation in movies is passive, participation in games is active. Games allow the learner to participate in that fundamentally experimental exercise of “probe-gather data,” whereas movies put us in “stimulus-reponse” mode, which is great if you’re at a scary movie with a really cute date, but otherwise kind of blah.

Moving on. Brett next says:

The example of trial-error learning within Sims environment is simply misplaced: the Sims games are not created for learning, and the learning that takes place during activity has proven to be of secondary importance if people are learning at all.

Here I’ll disagree somewhat. Sim City, the game I described previously, may not have been created explicitly to support learning about civic infrastructure, taxes, zoning, and parks. Understanding the individual purpose and function of each of the areas of infrastructure, finance, power, education, zoning, employment, and transportaion individually is a rather straightforward endeavor. In fact, one might take a class at school, read books, write essays, and take tests showing that they understand each of these individual components. However. The complexity inherent in the task of managing a city is not in managing the individual components – they are extremely simple. The complexity is in managing the interactions of those components, and the patterns of collective behavior that emerge from those interactions of the simple components of the system. At this stage, yes, “learning is complex.”

And let us pause to thank our respective Diety of choice that no instructional designers were involved in the specification or creation of Sim City. Just imagine how “play” would be affected by the introduction of Mager’s objectives into the game. Yes, the learning is definitely secondary. Should we devalue it because it is secondary? Do we look down on the amazing learning of history and culture one gains by becoming proficient in games like Civilization III? Who would you rather have for the Mayor of your town – someone with a degree in management or someone who has mastered Sim City?

We might rightly argue that all meaningful learning always is secondary – it is not learning for the sake of learning, or for the sake of a grade, it is learning in the service of accomplishing some goal which helps an agent meet some purpose of their own.

Finally, Brett says:

I think the perspective we should take lies far beyond a description of messages sent back and forth from learner to instructional artifact. We should have loftier goals.

Yes. We must absolutely concern ourselves with things beyond (in addition to) the messages themselves. I don’t know that we need loftier goals, but we certainly need a more massively-interdisciplinary approach.

A word of explanation: The Cast of Characters and How to Use This Book
Sample chapter: That’s Fitting, Somehow: Internal and External Context
Or see the full Table of Contents