education

Krystal D'Costa (Anthropology in Practice) links to a mini-documentary about the role of social media in the education of "Gen-Y": "Decade 2: Encouraging Educators to Rethink Social Media Strategies in the Classroom."

First, that these subjects are operating in a world that didn't exist five years ago. Some hold job titles like Social Media Strategist, and others are entrepreneurs who can shape their job as they want and need using social tools. These are individuals who have learned early the power of technology and shared communication, and they've harnessed it. Second, they're aware that they have needed to find their way in the dark. Several individuals in the documentary discuss how poorly prepared they feel their education has left them. This is an interesting statement when one considers reports that this not a tech savvy generation. And it prompts one to question whether the educational system can support the changing face of connectedness and business overall.

Are teenagers and college students learning about social media in the same way they learn about the birds and the bees -- mainly from their peers? Only a handful are really learning to control the media in their lives. People who end up in jobs like "Social Media Strategist" are the result of some kind of uncontrolled selection experiment.

Which maybe is as it should be. Uncontrolled selection experiments are pretty much how most successful people get started, I guess.

From the Chronicle of Higher Education, an article by Jeffrey Young: "College 2.0: Teachers Without Technology Strike Back."

I think that the article confuses matters by lumping together people with many different aims. Which I guess is sort of the point of all "technology in college" conversations. Different applications require different pedagogical approaches. There's no sense pointing out "Luddites" unless you can show the way that a particular technology would increase their effectiveness. A college's investment in teachers is a whole lot more expensive than the investment in clickers, projectors, online courseware, and the rest.

Nevertheless it's entertaining to see cherry-picked examples of professors proudly rejecting technology:

His professor made students write short papers and then gave extensive feedback, which forced them to hone their arguments and express themselves more clearly. And he made them write out the papers in longhand, in blue books, during class. "There's something about the immediacy or exigency of it," Mr. Leeds said. "When I took those written exams, I found that I made connections that I didn't know I knew—it shook up my brain cells like a supernova."

So today Mr. Leeds requires his students to write short, in-class papers. In blue books. By hand. Just like his favorite professor did.

From the comments:

No wonder some people would rather go to jail than to college.

Many have the same attitude about Powerpoint, I know.

It's that time of year again, when newspapers start reminding us that cheating and plagiarism happen.

"Lines on plagiarism for students blur in the digital age"

“If you are not so worried about presenting yourself as absolutely unique, then it’s O.K. if you say other people’s words, it’s O.K. if you say things you don’t believe, it’s O.K. if you write papers you couldn’t care less about because they accomplish the task, which is turning something in and getting a grade,” [anthropologist Susan D.] Blum said, voicing student attitudes. “And it’s O.K. if you put words out there without getting any credit.”

"To stop cheats, colleges learn their trickery"

For educators uncomfortable in the role of anti-cheating enforcer, an online tutorial in plagiarism may prove an elegantly simple technological fix.

That was the finding of a study published by the National Bureau of Economic Research in January. Students at an unnamed selective college who completed a Web tutorial were shown to plagiarize two-thirds less than students who did not. (The study also found that plagiarism was concentrated among students with lower SAT scores.)

I absolutely hate those "Web tutorials". They're a waste of time, that have come to be used for everything from human subjects guidelines, conflict of interest rules, and employment handbook reviews. I don't question that they may work, but I perceive them as hostile: a "CYA" tool for administrators who don't want personal contact with their employees.

I don't have a silver bullet for plagiarism, but it helps to explicitly introduce the topic, and review acceptable citation and quotation practices before the first writing assignment. It helps even more to assign online work with hyperlinks -- there's little reason nowadays to require a whole class to cut a tree for their work, when they're already accustomed to interacting online. And make assignments that aren't meaningful outside the context of the class -- specific reviews of particular readings, or critical analysis of specific hypotheses, not general topics.

Professors encourage plagiarism when they don't hold students accountable for their opinions. When a student isn't personally invested, she isn't going to think seriously, and she may find it easier to just to slide by.

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LA Times: "UC Berkeley adjusts freshman orientation's gene-testing program."

Where "adjusts" means the state's Public Health Department blocked them from reporting any test results to individual students, so they took the 1000 saliva samples and made a big blind pool to have something to talk about during their orientation program.

The thing that bothers me now:

The state Senate Education Committee on Wednesday defeated a bill, sponsored by Assemblyman Chris Norby (R-Fullerton), that would have restricted UC's and Cal State's ability to seek students' DNA.

One wonders what else the bill contained. Will DNA samples be required for university admission in the future?

My previous skeptical entries: "Berkeley DNA comments", "Berkeley DNA tests revisited", "UC-Berkeley genetic tests for freshmen".

(via 80beats)

Mailbag: Remembering the books

Regarding "Bubbling through college":

- - - - and can remember which pages are where.

This alludes to something big that goes largely unnoticed, it seems, and about which I have trouble deciding.

In my own 1960s-80s educated brain, the *location* of knowledge is deeply tied my access to and retention of it. Clearly with online learning and e-books, this means of structuring knowledge goes away, and nothing in particular replaces it. I've lost this strong tendency myself -- I no longer remember a fact, for example, even by *where on the page* the text was located.

But does this matter? Is this "ergonomics" of knowledge essential to all human brains, or is it only a trivial habit developed by a few arbitrary generations in the course of history? Does its loss mean knowledge will be less structured in the future, or merely structured in equally useful but different ways?

I still find myself doing this with PDFs, and I can remember well details of grade-school textbooks this way. But I have no knowledge of how common this may be. It seems to me that we may be exploiting an ancestral "geographic" ability, and it harks back to the "method of loci" which has been a trick for remembering things as far back as Roman times. But how natural is it?

There may be many other kinds of tricks that exploit innate brain abilities that wouldn't ordinarily be recruited for narrative information.

Bill Gates says college will be obsolete in 5 years:

“Five years from now on the web for free you’ll be able to find the best lectures in the world,” Gates said at the Techonomy conference in Lake Tahoe, CA today. “It will be better than any single university,” he continued.

He believes that no matter how you came about your knowledge, you should get credit for it. Whether it’s an MIT degree or if you got everything you know from lectures on the web, there needs to be a way to highlight that.

Glenn Reynolds says higher education is a bubble that is set to burst:

So my advice to students faced with choosing colleges (and graduate schools, and law schools) this coming year is simple: Don’t go to colleges or schools that will require you to borrow a lot of money to attend. There’s a good chance you’ll find yourself deep in debt to no purpose. And maybe you should rethink college entirely.

What to do? Colleges can't keep giving the same product and expect it to work much longer; their monopoly on granting credentials has already started to break for many business and professional fields. Bill Gates is the largest shareholder of one of the countries largest high-tech employers. If they can find a way to get talent faster, saving their recruits tens of thousands of dollars in the process, that gives them a huge advantage.

College needs to be better. The "best lectures in the world" aren't good enough. Happily, there are some other things that we also do well.

I think Gates may be on to something here:

One particular problem with the education system according to Gates is text books. Even in grade schools, they can be 300 pages for a book about math. “They’re giant, intimidating books,” he said. “I look at them and think: what on Earth is in there?“

The best instructional books I've learned from, and which I go back to, are consistently short. Short enough that a person can learn everything in them, and can remember which pages are where.

If you need something to heat up your July, you can check out the NY Times forum, "What if College Tenure Dies?".

It makes an interesting pool: Imagine five academics given the assignment to make their best argument for or against tenure, in 500 words or less. How many words will they waste, on average? I'd say the winning number is 350.

via TaxProf.

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Graphic biology teacher survey results

Several people (e.g., P. Z. Myers, Jerry Coyne) have passed along a poster representation of some statistics on evolution, creationism, and other stuff in secondary biology education.

These statistics are from the National Survey of High School Biology Teachers, taken in 2007 and reported in a 2008 paper by Michael Berkman and colleagues [1]. I wrote about the survey results at greater length when the paper by Berkman and colleagues reported on them.

Biology teachers creationism chart

What I want to know is where are these high school biology classes that include more than 20 hours of human evolution? That's four weeks! Two percent of the survey is 18 teachers. Good for them, and I hope they're using the blog!

The 17% who say they don't cover human evolution at all... I think that it wouldn't be too hard to make a real dent in this statistic. It does not take extra time to instill basic knowledge about human evolution, if you're already discussing basic genetics. All of the good examples of Mendelian inheritance are good examples precisely because they illustrate recent human evolution. Any discussion of human variation really is a discussion of human evolution. You just need to include the missing evolutionary frame, the one that makes sense of these things.

Still it's true that many biology classes don't touch on issues related to humans at all. Even these are missing an obvious opportunity -- other organisms are relevant to our biology precisely because of our shared evolutionary history.

The part of the survey that I found dismaying was the low number of hours devoted to evolutionary biology in general. As I put it then:

We're entering an age in which health decisions will be made based on genetic information -- when everyone may know their own gene sequences if they want to. New diseases are emerging, new crops are being developed, and new organisms are being transplanted from one continent to another. Decisions about the economic development of entire regions -- perhaps entire nations -- are now subject to the evaluation of biodiversity, including threatened and endangered species.

The people making these decisions ten to twenty years from now will have an average of 13.7 hours of education about evolution.

Looking at the distribution of numbers, it's clear that the average of 13.7 is buoyed by a tail of high-instruction classes. The median and mode are between 5 and 10 hours. This has to change, if we're going to have a populace capable of using genetic information.


References

I'm not sure which tags to apply to this story. I'm torn between "colossally-bad-ideas" and "university-auditions-for-big-brother".

Berkeley asks freshmen for DNA samples

Instead of the usual required summer-reading book, this year’s incoming freshmen at the University of California, Berkeley, will get something quite different: a cotton swab on which they can, if they choose, send in a DNA sample.

This is so unbelievable that I looked all over the web for news stories to confirm it isn't just a late April Fools. What conceivable educational value do they think is going to come out of this?

The university said it would analyze the samples, from inside students’ cheeks, for three genes that help regulate the ability to metabolize alcohol, lactose and folates.

Those genes were chosen not because they indicate serious health risks but because students with certain genetic markers may be able to lead healthier lives by drinking less, avoiding dairy products or eating more leafy green vegetables.

WTF?!

Hey, Berkeley! Great plan! I'm sure that your lactose intolerant students will shocked to discover that they're lactose intolerant! OMG! That explains the milkshakes! Likewise, I'm sure that the health impacts of alcohol consumption will get your 18-year-old freshmen to booze less on the weekends! And that folate metabolism test, well, that will get them used to supplements, won't it?

I mean, seriously. Nutrigenomics is a legitimate field of investigation, but testing individuals for genes that relate to nutritional requirements has become the smelly armpit of "personalized genomics". Companies selling "personalized diet plans" or "nutritional supplements" based on supposed genetic testing have become a problem and subject of recurrent FTC investigations. There is no credible science that supports such supplements or plans, outside known nutritional deficiencies.

In fact, there is no credible science that supports the idea that knowing your lactase persistence genotype, alcohol metabolic genotypes, or "folate" metabolic genotypes will improve health.

This information is useless. It's a total waste of money. It gives a highly misleading picture of genetics.

The most probable outcome is to condition 18-year-olds to accept government-sponsored genotyping. So to make it complete, the program comes with a lack of adequate privacy safeguards. The proposal has students using "bar codes" to access their data on a public website.

Yeah, great! That's about as "anonymous" as your drink order at a coffee shop.

The Science Insider listens to actor Tim Daly, advocating for science education, who thinks the officially sanctioned ed-school terminology is bad marketing.

"The acronym STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) blows," says Daly, who participated in a lunch-time rally today for the upcoming National Lab Day on 12 May as co-chair of the Creative Coalition, a nonprofit organization that lobbies for the arts community. "Everybody thinks you're talking about stem cells. It should be STEAM. It's not only a better acronym, but it will enhance what they are doing."

On the one hand, "STEM" is so completely uninspiring, that it's even obvious to the actor best known from "Wings," boat anchor of "Must See TV." On the other hand, "STEAM" not only blows, it also sucks. And I don't mean that in a steampunk kind of way.

I mean, why not just call it "SMEAT"? Because, people, you're arguing about an acronym. Is there anything more quintessentially nerdy than trying to find the majick acronym that will float to the top of the grant application pile? They may as well name it "nerdropology."

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Remember when we were going to have to hold bake sales to save the schools? Well, New York has found one way to solve that problem: "New York schools' ban on homemade goods at bake sales has parents steamed."

The Department of Education says the regulations are aimed at combating obesity among the city's more than 1.1 million public school children, about 40% of whom are overweight. By restricting bake sale offerings to goods limited in calories and wrapped in packaging that lists nutritional information, schools will help children reduce their intake of unhealthy snacks, officials say.

I'm surprised they aren't also saying that making packaged food in factories uses less carbon than all those home ovens.

Now, see, I think the "paleo diet" folks should see this as an opportunity. Come to the schools, set up a card table, and slap down some venison!

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The other New York Times Magazine article that I found interesting this weekend (following up on yesterday's post) is about the Texas State Board of Education and its attempts to revise textbook standards for history teaching.

Texas is regularly in the headlines because of its heft as a textbook buyer. Its statewide education guidelines influence what will be available to the rest of the country, which becomes a frequent source of aid and comfort for creationism whenever the state's biology education standards are revised.

It's not biology this year, its history -- but some similar conflicts have arisen. The main point of contention is the way to portray religion's role in the early United States, and the article, by Russell Shorto, reviews some pertinent facts and opinions, and profiles the nationwide forces behind members of the Texas Board of Education.

IN 1801, A GROUP of Baptist ministers in Danbury, Conn., wrote a letter to the new president, Thomas Jefferson, congratulating him on his victory. They also had a favor to ask. Baptists were a minority group, and they felt insecure. In the colonial period, there were two major Christian factions, both of which derived from England. The Congregationalists, in New England, had evolved from the Puritan settlers, and in the South and middle colonies, the Anglicans came from the Church of England. Nine colonies developed state churches, which were supported financially by the colonial governments and whose power was woven in with that of the governments. Other Christians — Lutherans, Baptists, Quakers — and, of course, those of other faiths were made unwelcome, if not persecuted outright.

Nowadays people think that "disestablishmentarianism" is just an example of an inordinately long word to use in spelling bees. They don't seem to remember meaning of the word, from the movement to disestablish State religions within the United States. A good nutshell version of the history is given by Olds (1994, who, as an aside, was mainly interested in whether the resulting "privatization" of religion could explain the high religious identification in the United States). The movement to disestablish churches was in part driven by Jeffersonians, and in part by churches themselves, which became more and more unwilling to cede doctrinal decisions to a public vote of their congregrations. Until disestablishment, people in these states were taxed to support the church.

Now, I'm betting that little historical episode isn't part of many high school history curricula. I imagine students are still forced to learn about the Bank of the United States, going on around the same time, but how many of those history lessons even try to connect the concept to the Federal Reserve?

Anyway, the article is mainly interesting for its cast of characters, including perennial creationist board member Don McLeroy and frequent-flying Liberty University law professor and Texas board member Cynthia Dunbar. These people are able to demand extraordinary changes from publishers, supported as they are by an ersatz network of legal activists and foundations around the country. I think the article makes essential background to understanding the issues with evolution education.

This deserves to be read widely, especially this time of year:

Graduate School in the Humanities: Just Don't Go

...

It's hard to tell young people that universities recognize that their idealism and energy — and lack of information — are an exploitable resource. For universities, the impact of graduate programs on the lives of those students is an acceptable externality, like dumping toxins into a river.

From the Chronicle of Higher Education.

UPDATE: Link fixed.

There's not really an exciting story to go with the headline, but after it dropped into my news feed, I had to link it:

How We Spent Facebook's Money On A Neanderthal's Skull

Yesterday, a nice Christmas present from Facebook landed in our in-box: $25 to spend at DonorsChoose.org.

After reviewing reader suggestions on how to spend it, we eventually decided to help a North Carolina school teacher buy his students a model of a Neanderthal skull for AP biology students.

Well, OK -- short, and heartwarming. I think every school could use a Neandertal skull.

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According to a Fort Hays State University poll, Kansas may be headed for another crisis in science education:

A majority of respondents, 53 percent, said they favored teaching both evolution and creationism in the public schools, while 18 percent said that neither theory should be taught. The remaining respondents were evenly divided between wanting one or the other of the theories taught exclusively.

If the remainder are really "equally divided", that makes two-thirds in favor of teaching creationism, and one-third against teaching evolution at all.

Louise Mead and Anton Mates examined the present science standards nationwide, giving each state a score based on the representation and support in the curriculum for evolutionary biology ("Why Science Standards are Important to a Strong Science Curriculum and How States Measure Up"). The article is open access and it's a valuable source for people interested in biology education.

I bring it up, because Kansas right now has one of the strongest biology curricula in the nation, one of only 10 states to earn an "A" according to the survey's criteria. By contrast, Wisconsin has a "D".

But of course, in addition to a strong written curriculum, a state needs support for science teachers to attain the mastery and continued updated training in scientific concepts and practice. It's one thing to espouse support for effective biology education, and another to provide the tools that make that education happen.

Mailbag: More advice for freshmen

Regarding advice for new college students:

I also suggest that as soon as you can get in a lab, go regularly research seminars and then ask as many questions of your lab mates as they will put up with. It really leapfrogs the knowledge base.

Good suggestion for those going into science. The sophomores who have put themselves in labs are already halfway into graduate school, even if they don't know it.

I suppose if you're in the humanities, the equivalent is pestering people at the espresso bar...

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Billable hours for professors

Yesterday's post on MIT OpenCourseware touched on some of the difficulties of independent study using online tools. Three barriers stand in the way -- one practical, two structural.

On the practical side, it's hard to get help without paying for it. If you understand the materials well, you ought to learn as easily from them as any undergraduate taking the class on campus. But if you hit a snag, you might be stuck a long time trying to work through it yourself. That's what professors, teaching assistants and tutors are for: getting you around the snag, so that you can keep progressing.

On the structural side, colleges use every means at their disposal to defend their role as credentialing institutions. Getting a degree -- a certification -- means paying somebody. And one tool in their arsenal is copyright -- they may give you their lectures and notes for free, but they can't distribute the textbooks, graphics, or images that have been drawn from other sources. Sad but true -- I show photos of fossils and sites routinely in my classes, as well as graphics from published articles. Those don't go into free online content -- hence again, personal is better.

Kevin Carey writes in Washington Monthly, "College for $99 a Month", focusing on a new player in the transfer-credit business, StraighterLine. It's one of several outfits trying to make a business out of online education. The article's title draws attention to the unique pricing scheme -- for 99 dollars a month, you can take as many courses as you want. It's like Netflix for college classes:

In recent years, Americans have grown accustomed to living amid the smoking wreckage of various once-proud industries—automakers bankrupt, brand-name Wall Street banks in ruins, newspapers dying by the dozen. It’s tempting in such circumstances to take comfort in the seeming permanency of our colleges and universities, in the notion that our world-beating higher education system will reliably produce research and knowledge workers for decades to come. But this is an illusion. Colleges are caught in the same kind of debt-fueled price spiral that just blew up the real estate market. They’re also in the information business in a time when technology is driving down the cost of selling information to record, destabilizing lows.

The company (and others) makes a business out of low-cost information by offering low-cost services. The parent company, Smarthinking, offers 24-hour tutoring by Internet whiteboard along with purely online tutorials developed in partnership with universities and textbook publishers. Some universities have outsourced their on-campus tutoring to the company, I suppose trading better service for work-study dollars.

Carey's article covers some of the challenges facing StraighterLine -- I was interested in the part describing how Fort Hays State University (in Western Kansas) had evaluated some of the company's courses as transfer credits, only to invoke the ire of the North Central accreditation board and professors. It illustrates the guild system that protects the universities' credentialing market, for the time being.

The underlying issue for colleges is that upper-level specialized courses are money-losers. They take up a large fraction of expensive faculty teaching time, but they have low enrollments -- making them better for students. Colleges cover these costs in part by offering big lecture classes to underclassmen. If students could take 10 of these classes in four months with StraighterLine, they'd spend $400, compared to the many thousands that the same credits would run on campus.

Bob Cringely's current column ("Burn baby, burn") touches on the same problem:

Education, which — along with health care — seems to exist in an alternate economic universe, ought to be subject to the same economic realities as anything else.  We should have a marketplace for insight.  Take a variety of experts (both professors and lay specialists) and make them available over the Internet by video conference.  Each expert charges by the minute with those charges adjusting over time until a real market value is reached.  The whole setup would run like iTunes and sessions would be recorded for later review.

Remember, all lectures are also available online for free. What costs is the personal touch.

Say a particularly good professor wants to make $200,000 per year by working no more than 20 hours per week or about 1000 hours per year.  That gives them a billing rate of $200 per hour.

That's an interesting business model -- make every professor into a paid consultant. Many already make substantial income in that way, particularly those verging into industry-dominated fields like engineering and medicine. But it's hard to see many English or history professors making $200 per billable hour. Cringely points out that the deal would substantially improve the deal for students:

Now look back at your university career.  How much one-on-one time did you actually get with the professors who really influenced your life?  I did the calculation and came up with about two hours per week, max.  Imagine a four-year undergraduate career running 30 weeks per year — 120 total weeks of school — times two hours of insight per week for a total of 240 hours.  At $200 per hour the cost comes to $48,000 or $12,000 per year.

That’s a huge savings compared to the $200,000+ an MIT-level education would cost today.

The difference in cost is facilities and administration. Some of those facilities are necessary for an MIT-level education -- lab work can't all be virtual.

But, there are a lot of ways to involve undergraduates in research, and $200 an hour for direct tutoring in research methods plus subsidizing publication in the university-run open access journal -- that might well be a better (and more practical) advanced education than a faculty-led seminar. It's like music lessons, except for science.

Or students could pool their money to have the professor attend their seminar weekly -- get enough people together who want a Milton seminar, and then hire the Milton scholar. Or two, on alternate weeks. Take what was once passive and make it active.

Well, there are some perspectives on the future of education. Who knows how they'll turn out?

I'm all in favor of self-educating -- most of my genetics I learned on my own. So I was interested to see what you can really learn from free online sources like MIT Open Courseware, in an article by Josh Dean, "How Much Can You Really Learn With a Free Online Education?"

I got that long-dormant lost-in-class feeling that triggers notebook doodles and clock watching, and I started to dread "going." And so, in a departure lounge at Miami International Airport, around the time Lewin said, "We now come to a much more difficult part, and that is multiplication of vectors," I decided to drop the class.

I wonder what the internal impact of the program is -- what difference does it make when you're enrolled in a course, to have all the lectures of the course (albeit, from a past semester) online? Personally, I don't like doing the same thing in my courses every time I teach them. If I had an online lecture set, I'd probably expect students to listen to those in their free time, and add a bunch of additional content to my lectures.

"You know where we're heading with this," says Shigeru Miyagawa, who believes that OCW has enriched current students and faculty, enhanced MIT's reputation as an institution at the forefront of innovation, and provided an invaluable opportunity to show off its smarts to those prospective geniuses that top schools fight for. "You can already see it. You" -- here he means an institution -- "can't afford not to do OCW. I foresee that in five years, all major institutions will be opening courses to let the world see what they do. It's a no-brainer, right?"

Well, there is a downside. MIT doesn't offer human evolution.

Muwahahahahahaha!

Possibly of interest:

Creation/Evolution now available on-line

NCSE is pleased to announce that the complete run of Creation/Evolution is now available in PDF form on the NCSE website. Published from 1980 to 1996, Creation/Evolution was the leading source of information about and criticism of the creationist movement through that momentous period, which saw the rise and fall of attempts to require the teaching of "creation science" in the public schools as well as the beginnings of the "intelligent design" movement.

Oh, for a muse of fire...

Science last week had an "Education Forum" feature, written by European education researchers, titled, "Introducing modern science into schools." The piece describes some ways of bringing new technology into teaching science, from simulations and games to bioinformatics tools. It all seems reasonable, and there are probably some really good ideas there -- although our teaching lab at Wisconsin has some bead-based exercises from around 1965 that look an awful lot like the one in the photo accompanying the article.

But what jumped out at me was how totally uninspiring the article's first sentence makes it all out to be.

Young people in Europe are becoming increasingly disinterested in science at school and are moving away from studying science at university, making it difficult to recruit the engineers and scientists needed to support technology-based economies (1).

I'm thinking of the Star Trek movie, when Bruce Greenwood tries to recruit young Kirk into Starfleet: "Come on, young man, support our technology-based economy! Somehow, that just doesn't do it for me.

Oh, I know. This is an article in Science, it's trying to persuade educators and bureaucrats, not students. But dang, can't they at least go with "making tomorrow's great discoveries"? Or "exploring new scientific frontiers"? Yes, they're cliché, but they work. Or at least, they used to. It's got to be better than "Come, nerds, serve as drones for our M.B.A. overlords."

UPDATE (2009-09-02): From a reader:

An enduring shame in my life is that I once used "disinterested" when I meant "not interested". Now I see SCIENCE mag is doing it. Yucchh.

Heh.

References:

Willingale-Theune J, Manaia A, Gebhardt P, De Lorenzi R, Haury M. 2009. Introducting modern science into schools. Science 325:1077-1078. doi:10.1126/science.1171989

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Since I've already contributed to bellyaching about student writing assignments, it's only fair to point to a Wired article that says students are getting better:

As the school year begins, be ready to hear pundits fretting once again about how kids today can't write—and technology is to blame....

Andrea Lunsford isn't so sure. Lunsford is a professor of writing and rhetoric at Stanford University, where she has organized a mammoth project called the Stanford Study of Writing to scrutinize college students' prose. From 2001 to 2006, she collected 14,672 student writing samples—everything from in-class assignments, formal essays, and journal entries to emails, blog posts, and chat sessions. Her conclusions are stirring.

"I think we're in the midst of a literacy revolution the likes of which we haven't seen since Greek civilization," she says. For Lunsford, technology isn't killing our ability to write. It's reviving it—and pushing our literacy in bold new directions.

Maybe Twitter will help with composing 140-character thesis statements?

In last week's Science, a letter from biologist Patrick Keeling that's almost too good to be true:

Creationists Made Me Do It

On that fateful day, all the science students were herded into the school auditorium, where we listened to a long and richly illustrated lecture describing literal creationism. ... Remarkably, I graduated from senior biology having learned only about creationism.

It's hard to overestimate the appeal of rebelling against the system to a teenaged boy, and that day marked the beginning of my path to a career in evolutionary biology.

There's more at the link, but I know many readers can't access the journal and it's a letter that deserves sharing.

College classes are starting around the country, but writing assignments haven't been submitted yet. Time to brace yourself -- Stanley Fish blogs about what college writing courses are teaching:

A few years ago, when I was grading papers for a graduate literature course, I became alarmed at the inability of my students to write a clean English sentence. They could manage for about six words and then, almost invariably, the syntax (and everything else) fell apart. I became even more alarmed when I remembered that these same students were instructors in the college’s composition program. What, I wondered, could possibly be going on in their courses?

I teach several "writing across the curriculum" -type courses. The horror stories are a little overblown -- I'd say at least a fourth of my students start out able to write a thesis statement. Hey, that's something!

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The tuition Singularity

The Singularity is a future time when, in theory, the pace of technological change becomes so great that we cannot predict the course of future developments of human society. The prediction of such a time was made by Vernor Vinge, and others, popularized by Ray Kurzweil. The basic idea is that technological progress is occurring now at an exponential rate. For example, the number of transistors on commercial microprocessors doubles every 18 months or so (that's called "Moore's Law" after Intel founder Gordon Moore).

Exponential growth is a constant relative growth. When we chart an exponential growth process against time, we find that the rate of absolute change naturally proceeds to an "inflection point" at which the change becomes arbitrarily fast. If these changes do not meet some natural limit, they may be interpreted as a Singularity -- a point at which the apparent effects of changes in human terms becomes fundamentally different than before.

Universities help to accumulate knowledge, and fulfill an educational role as they bring knowledge to a broader public. For this, students pay tuition. Our monetary system has its own exponential growth process -- the rate of inflation, at which a given amount of money purchases less and less value over time. University tuition has been increasing over the past twenty years or more at a rate much three or more times that of inflation. It is clear that at the historic rate of compounding, the tuition bills for U.S. universities are approaching a singularity.

Exponential growth may continue quite a while into the future for technological development. But it cannot proceed indefinitely for tuition dollars. Compared to other economic needs, people can only spend a finite proportion on higher education. A story in Inside Higher Ed profiles the coming tuition crunch, discussing a recent report on college affordability:

In recent years, the report notes, increases in public university tuition have not been used to improve the quality of instruction and other services, but to offset the declines in the relative share of support coming from state appropriations. Looking ahead, the report sees affordability issues created by shifting demographics, in which more of the potential student body will be coming from disadvantaged groups with lower family incomes. Further, based on current government projections, the report suggests that the share of family income required to pay tuition and fees (even after discounting is applied for institutional or other aid) is likely to get too large for many families

Presently the tuition at private research universities is nearly 60 percent of the average family income; at public research universities it is over 11 percent. Over the next 30 years, private tuition will increase to nearly 100 percent of the average family income and public tuition to nearly 30 percent. Those projections seem unduly optimistic to me, considering recent rates of tuition increase and the cost structures of public universities.

Four times the annual family income is a generous home price; homes are generally supported by long-term loans paid over 15 or 30 years, which together with property taxes make up more than 30 percent of the average family income. Long-term student loans have become a larger proportion of private debt. As the proportion of people seeking higher education increases, it is implausible to suppose that a high proportion will see a net increase in family income large enough to justify the expense.

The question naturally arises: what does the student attain from a university that justifies an expenditure of several hundred dollars a week (in 2008 dollars)? The current average monthly tuition cost of a public university is over $700 a month. This adds up to more than $45 per hour of direct instruction.

I don't think that university tuition will reach a singularity after all. What it will reach is a Malthusian limit, at which students find alternate means of obtaining credentials often enough that further tuition increases yield diminishing returns. For the universities, this won't very likely be pretty. Government intervention, in the form of tuition supplements or tax credits, may delay this crisis by distributing the cost of education across a broader population than the students and their families. But the fundamentals seem pretty obvious, particularly given the increasing effectiveness of distance learning technologies.

What will happen to university instruction? One can hope it will become more dedicated to outcomes. If you're a parent of school-age children, consider this:

While many students (and their tuition-paying parents) believe that attending a high quality college will yield higher incomes in post-graduate life, the report says that there is little objective data on the relationships between attending certain colleges and subsequent economic success. “No university can legitimately claim that their students learn more than do students graduating from competing universities,” the report says.

High cost private colleges may have benefits for some students, but those benefits do not include reliably larger incomes.

And there is this:

The report suggests that public universities are unusual economic organizations in American society in that their costs are so integrated, or “bundled.” The same professors may perform research (either with or without major outside support), teach (either undergraduates and/or graduate students) and offer service to their institutions, disciplines or society. At a community college, the report says, faculty time is clearly instructional. But measuring the costs of undergraduate education at a research university may be “very difficult,” and that, in turn, may make cost control “nearly impossible,” the report says. While the report acknowledges that “unbundling” is easier said than done, it urges public universities to consider how costs can be separated for closer examination. And it notes that competitors to public universities — such as for-profit higher education, which has moved into areas once dominated by public universities — have no such difficulty.

This is the biggest complication when comparing tuition costs. At a public research university, professors are generally expected to devote far more time and effort to research than to instruction. This is not universal or uniform, but as an example I spend more than four times as much effort on research, professional service and public dissemination of knowledge as I do on direct instruction, grading, and class preparation. These activities make me a better teacher, and provide my students with learning opportunities that they would not otherwise have. But they vastly complicate the task of quantifying the costs of education.

Even so, research effort is hardly the cost breaker of university education. My salary has increased rather more slowly than inflation (keeping in mind that some components of my total cost of employment, notably health insurance, have grown faster). Meanwhile tuition has sped along at a much higher rate. That money isn't going into instruction, but it's not going into research, either.

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Olivia Judson editorializes on the value of teaching evolution:

[A] failure to consider the evolution of other species may result in a failure of our efforts to preserve them. And, perhaps, to preserve ourselves from diseases, pests and food shortages. In short, evolution is far from being a remote and abstract subject. A failure to teach it may leave us unprepared for the challenges ahead.

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