Posts Tagged learning and development
Promoting development
Posted by Theo in cognitive development, learning on October 4, 2009
There is a vast literature exploring ways to promote development. Much of this literature focuses on speeding up development, some of it focuses on optimizing development. Although both approaches are intended to support development, there is evidence that approaches focused on optimizing development are likely to do a better job. This is because development involves two intertwined processes, differentiation (broadening and deepening knowledge) and integration. In plain(er) English, you get more adequate integrations at each level if you accomplish rich differentiation at the prior level.
When we code an assessment, we pay close attention to the degree to which the test-taker elaborates each of the sub-skills it targets. In our personal feedback, we note areas of strength and areas that appear to require further growth. The basic idea is to bring all of the sub-skills up to an optimal level of elaboration to support the emergence of next-level integrations.
Most of the readings we suggest are targeted one to two phases (1/4 to 1/2 of a level) above the level of a given performance. This practice has been shown to provide the ideal level of challenge (scaffolding) for optimal growth. We also suggest activities like engaging in discourse with peers, journaling, cultivating a habit of reflection, and improving metacognitive skills, all of which provide support for growth.
We do not teach people to think at higher levels. Higher levels of performance emerge when knowledge is adequately elaborated and the environment supports higher levels of thinking and performance. We focus on helping people to think better at their current level and challenging them to elaborate their current knowledge and skills—including the not-so-sexy nuts-and-bolts knowledge required for success in any context.
Testing as part of learning 2
Posted by Theo in cognitive development, learning, motivation, teaching, testing on July 14, 2009
I can’t help it, I’m a developmental psychologist. I’ve been lurking about, watching my Granddaughter, Erwin, as she learns to master her environment. She’s about 8 months old now (real age, she was three months premature, so her birth age is 11 months)
Last week, Erwin figured out that complex actions can be used intentionally to make things happen in social situations. For example, she started reaching toward her Mom and Dad to indicate her intention to be picked up. At around same time, she began pointing to objects to indicate interest or draw them to the attention of her others. And she has begun to imitate actions like waving, clapping, and head shaking. Today, when we were Skyping, she clapped her hands to get me to play pat-a-cake, and she shakes her head to get her Mom to do the same—which she finds hilarious. To Mom’s dismay, Erwin is so excited by this new way of influencing her environment that she has stopped napping.
To see an example of Erwin’s attempts at verbal communication and her new reaching behavior, double-click on the picture below. Notice how emphatic her arm extension is, and how she makes eye contact as she reaches out.
A few months ago, most of Erwin’s actions were aimed toward physical mastery—learning to obtain ojects and manipulate them in a variety of ways, learning to move herself toward things she wanted to manipulate, or playing with sound just to hear the results.
When she was learning to do physical things, the physical environment provided most of the feedback. Although her parents were there to give encouragement, we all had the sense that it was the physical feedback that she craved—getting an object to her mouth, inching toward a favorite toy, pulling herself to stand.
Now she craves feedback from her parents; she has shifted her focus from physical mastery to social mastery. She reaches for Mom and gets picked up. She shakes her head and Mom shakes her head back. She points to a banana, and Dad brings it to her. She claps her hands, and Grandma plays pat-a-cake. And every time she undertakes a new action, she is conducting a test.
Testing is part of learning.
Each time any infant tries out a new skill, she is conducting a test. Each attempt is part of an action-feedback loop. Repeated attempts to master a new skill form a series of these action-feedback loops. Each iteration is an exemplary test—in the sense that it is educative—that guides the infant incrementally toward a new level of mastery.
Interestingly, infants never tire of this kind of testing, even when the feedback is not instantly gratifying. In fact, much of the feedback is along the lines of, “almost, but not quite,” or “that didn’t work,” neither of which seem to get in the way of infant learning. For example, when Erwin first started reaching toward her parents to ask to be picked up, her action was not easy to read. It rarely got the desired response. She gradually learned that the reaching needed to be clearly directed toward the parent and accompanied by eye contact. Now the message is, “You’ve got it!” At this point, Erwin takes the skill for granted, and has shifted her attention to things she has not yet mastered, like figuring out how to get adults to do other interesting or gratifying things.
The natural action-feedback mechanism of infancy works perfectly, because the proverbial carrot is usually, due to the very nature of normal human environments, dangled at just the right distance. Good parents respond to early attempts at communication, rewarding them with interesting responses, but success isn’t the only reward; it’s always accompanied by a new “carrot”—another interesting possibility just beyond the infant’s reach. In this way, the action-feedback mechanism functions both as an aid to learning and as a motivator.
Aspects of this “carrot-and-stick” perspective on learning have been expanded and described in a variety of research traditions—e.g., as part of the notion of reinforcement feedback in social learning theory (Bandura, 1977), as zone of proximal development in Vygotsky’s (1986) work, and as part of a complex process of assimilation and accommodation in Piaget’s (1985) work. It is important, because it speaks both to how we learn and to our motivation for learning. Good feedback plays two essential roles. First, it helps the learner decide what to try next. Second, it motivates the learner to keep striving toward mastery. And, as the infant example suggests, feedback cannot be reduced to simple reward or punishment. Ideally, it is information that supports learning by being useful to the learner. Learners are not motivated by reward or punishment per se, but by an optimal combination of “not there yet” “almost” and “you’ve got it”.
DiscoTests are for learning
Most of today’s tests provide feedback in the form of rewards (good grades, advancement, or honors) or punishment (bad grades and failure). My colleagues and I don’t find this acceptable, so we’ve created a nonprofit called DiscoTest. The overarching objective of the DiscoTest Initiative is to contribute to the development of optimal learning environments by creating assessments that deliver the kind of educative feedback that learners need to learn optimally. DiscoTests determine where students are in their individual learning trajectories and provide feedback that points toward the next incremental step toward mastery.
I’ll be writing more about DiscoTest in future posts. For now, if you’d like to know more, please visit the DiscoTest web site.
Test validity & tacit knowledge
Posted by Theo in decision making, educational testing, learning, reasoning on April 21, 2009
As you probably know if you are reading this post, my colleagues and I make developmental assessments, several of which are focused on adult skills like managerial decision making. I am often asked about the validity of these assessments as it pertains to the distinction between intuitive or tacit knowledge and the kind of skills people need to do well on a developmental assessment. The short answer is that tacit knowledge is not captured by any assessment that asks people to reason through a problem, because tacit knowledge is, well, tacit.
How does it work?
Often, people know more about a particular subject than they can communicate verbally. This is because much of what we learn through experience does not automatically become part of our conscious knowledge. It’s in a form that’s difficult to share. We call this kind of knowledge tacit or implicit. You can also think of it as intuitive. Tacit knowledge is not a bad thing. It helps us make quick choices in familiar situations; we’d be in big trouble if we had to think through every single situation in our lives before we made a decision! But tacit knowledge has its limits.
First, because we aren’t able to bring it into focus, we can’t share tacit knowledge with others. This is the case in a business where the person at the top is an “intuitive” leader. Because his or her leadership skills are tacit, they can’t be shared. In situations like this, it is not uncommon for an institution to last only as long as its leader.
Second, tacit knowledge is limited by our direct experience, which means it isn’t terribly useful for dealing with novelty or abstractions. Because tacit knowledge is experienced-based, it is most useful in situations that are like those we have confronted in the past. Unfortunately for those who rely too heavily on tacit knowledge, the modern world constantly provides us with new challenges. To meet them, we need conscious methods for evaluating knowledge and experience.
Third, sometimes our tacit knowledge is sub-optimal. For example, people who learn the skills required to survive on the rough side of town or in an abusive relationship often fare poorly when they try to function outside of those contexts, partly because their tacit knowledge isn’t useful in their new surroundings. Before they can learn more adaptive skills, they usually need to bring their tacit knowledge into consciousness.
Finally, relying on tacit knowledge limits our development. When we habitually rely on our tacit knowledge, learning not only slows down, it’s quality is compromised. Optimal learning requires that we reflect consciously upon our own experiences and actively seek other perspectives to fill in the gaps.
Implications for assessment
The implications for assessment are clear. If knowledge is tacit, it won’t be reflected in an assessment of reasoning skills. Although good developmental assessments can provide accurate evaluations of the level of complexity a person can consciously cope with in a specific skill area, they can’t tell us everything we need to know about a person’s capabilities. This is one good reason—in a much longer list of reasons—to avoid making high stakes decisions on the basis of a single form of evaluation.
Falling in love with complexity
Posted by Theo in cognitive development, learning, reasoning on April 1, 2009
In college it’s a common thing. Students, exposed for the first time to the complex ideas of philosophers, psychologists, and scientists, fall in love with complexity. They want, more than anything, to be able to think like their heroes, and many assume that the best way to do this is to emulate their language. Big words, complex sentences, and abstract ideas—the more abstract the better—abound. Once competent writers temporarily lose their own voice. Students who have not already developed solid writing skills produce gobbledygook (complexity without integration). Good professors provide constructive feedback and support learning that will eventually tame the gobbledygook and unleash more mature voices.
Falling in love with complexity is now common in adults. Adult development is a popular idea these days, and many adults are jumping on the complexity bandwagon, which is fueled by an abundance of popular books that tout the superiority of systems thinking, dialectical reasoning, etc. What the authors of these books often don’t tell their readers is that learning to think in a more complex way usually requires years of study in a particular discipline*. Readers are led to believe that all they need to do is read a book, take a course, or learn to meditate and they will emerge as more complex, integrated and capable persons. Unfortunately, they often learn the language of complexity, but don’t do the nuts and bolts learning, doing, and reflecting that’s required for integration.
In our assessments, I frequently see evidence of this problem. Check out this example: A successful manager should be able to apply transformational leadership and various frameworks to gather, interpret, weigh, balance, and align different individual and institutional perspectives and interests, as well as psychological and sociological aspects to allow for the emergence of the successful determination of an ideal resolution process for this cultural context. Such an approach would require emotional intelligence and dialectics to determine a set of guiding principles that will lead to an introspective and interactive process of finding a solution that is appreciative of the interdependence and significance of all perspectives.
This is love.
*In adulthood, one full level of development on Fischer’s, Commons, Kegan’s, Kohlberg’s, Armon’s, Kitchener & King’s, Jaques’, or Fowler’s scales takes 4 to 10 years of continuous reflective study and practice. Another way to think about this is that it takes about 10,000 hours of reflective study and practice to become an expert. This is long enough to fall out of love with complexity and strike up a relationship with simplicity!
Recent Comments