April 2021 – Education & Teacher Conferences Skip to main content
The Pattern Seekers: How Autism Drives Human Invention by Simon Baron-Cohen
Rebecca Gotlieb
Rebecca Gotlieb

Cambridge University professor of psychology and psychiatry, Simon Baron-Cohen, recently published The Pattern Seekers: How Autism Drives Human Invention. Baron-Cohen argues that for the last 70,000-100,000 years humans have been the only species with the “Systemizing Mechanism,” or the ability to think in if-and-then patterns. This ability, which is stronger in people who work in science, technology, engineering, business, law, and some detail-oriented art fields, has offered us an advantage over other species because it enables invention. Baron-Cohen reviews extensive evidence suggesting that the Systemizing Mechanism is more common among people with autism, that both this mechanism and autism are at least partially genetic, and that they share a genetic basis. As the incidence of autism continues to rise and the need to better support this population and better harness the strengths of people with autism continues to grow, this book will be of interest not only to individuals with autism or to people who work with individuals with autism, but also to those striving to support two of our most uniquely human capacities—the capacity for innovation and for empathy.

Baron-Cohen explains that the Systemizing Mechanism involves first asking a question about the world, then hypothesizing an if-and-then pattern to answer it, testing that pattern repeatedly by making observations or experimenting, and finally, modifying it as appropriate. These steps allow us to learn new things about our environment and ultimately exert some control over it.

Baron-Cohen reviews the 70,000+ year history of human inventions. He argues that although other animal species use tools, and there is evidence of tools from other hominids, only humans can create a novel tool more than once. Baron-Cohen refutes the ideas that language, large working memory capacity, larger brains, or the protracted period of childhood could adequately explain humans’ unique ability to build innovative inventions. Only the Systemizing Mechanism is sufficient to explain our ability to invent.

Despite the power of the Systemizing Mechanism, we typically rely on empathy (a topic about which Baron-Cohen has researched and written extensively) to understand the social world. Baron-Cohen describes a trade-off between empathy and systemizing that may have both a genetic basis and may be influenced by environmental factors, including the prenatal hormonal environment.  He says that there are five distinct types of relative orientations individuals have towards systemizing and empathizing—an individual can be very high on one and very low on the other, moderately high on one and moderately low on the other, or balanced in both skills. Readers can assess their own systemizing and empathizing at www.yourbraintype.com. Systemizing is more common among people with autism than among the general population and is more common among people who work in technology than among people in most humanities. People with autism are often experts at recognizing patterns (consistent with systemizing), but may struggle with cognitive empathy, leading to difficulty with social relationships. Hyper-systemizing individuals are genetically more likely to have an autistic child and the parents of kids with autism tend to score higher on systemizing and pattern recognition tests.

The rate of diagnosed autism has risen, which may partially be because of increased awareness, better ability to diagnose, and changing diagnostic criteria, but it may also be increasing in the population because of a genuine growth in its frequency (perhaps secondary to increased mating among people with a genetic disposition to systemizing). Currently, school and the workforce are relatively unwelcoming places for people with autism, which causes them great suffering and loneliness and makes society lose out on their unique strengths. Baron-Cohen calls for offering more social support to people with autism and creating more employment opportunities for these individuals. Appreciating neurodiversity in the population, or the naturally occurring variability in types of brains, is a revolutionary, inclusive idea. Inspired by his work with people with autism, Baron-Cohen helps us imagine a better world—one in which we cease to judge one another for what we cannot do and instead celebrate the special talents we each possess.

Baron-Cohen, S. (2020). The Pattern Seekers. How Autism Drives Human Invention. Basic Books.

Introducing “Interteaching” (Works Online Too!)
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Have you heard of “interteaching” before? Me neither.

The headlines for this blog sound like this:

“INTERTEACHING” HELPFULLY BALANCES TEACHER AND STUDENT EFFORT/RESPONSIBILITY

and

“INTERTEACHING” WORKS ONLINE AND ASYNCHRONOUSLY, according to recent research.

Let’s take those headlines one at a time.

Headline 1: A Helpful Balance of Work and Responsibility

Few battles rage hotter in education than the “teacher-centered” vs. “student-centered” debate. Should teachers be “sages” who explain ideas and procedures directly and precisely? Should we be “guides” who help students as they puzzle their way to discovery and understanding?

We can be tempted to think that one approach is always right, the other always wrong.

Interteaching, as I understand it, strikes a useful middle ground.

Teachers do plenty of organizing/presenting. And, students devote lots of mental energy to figuring out key ideas. As explained in this study by Gayman, Hammonds, and Rost, Interteaching includes four steps:

First: As students do assigned readings, they answer questions included in “prep-guides.” In other words: teachers guide and signal with the questions they ask, but students do the mental work to figure out the answers.

Second: Students meet in small groups (2-4) to compare answers and figure out  their disagreements. Here, again, students must do lots of useful mental work.

Third: Students tell teachers (in “record sheets”) which concepts they struggled most to understand. Notice: time for student metacognition.

Fourth: Guided by that feedback, teachers prepare and present a brief lecture to explain the trickiest ideas. After several steps focused on student effort, this one invites teachers to do the heavy lifting.

By the way, an optional fifth step creates a grade incentive to encourage student participation. According to Gayman and Co., the method works with or without those incentives.

As you can see, interteaching combines “student-centered” discussions and metacognition with “teacher-centered” prep-guides and lectures. We end up being both guides and sages, depending on the step we’re in.

Headline #2: Interteaching Helps Online/Asynchronous Learners

Gayman’s study cites prior research showing the benefits of interteaching. (Short version: students learn more.)

She and her colleagues, want to know: does this approach also help students learn online, especially in asynchronous classes?

To find out, Gayman used one of her own psychology courses as a testing ground. In one section, she taught topics A, C, and E the traditional lecturey way, and topics B, D, and F with interteaching.

With the other section, she flipped that: B, D, and F got traditional lectures, and A, C, and E got interteaching love.

With this method, she could determine within the same student which method worked better.

Turns out: students learned more from interteaching as measured by unit-end quizzes. And on the final exam. (Those exams yielded more As and Bs for inter-taught material, and fewer Cs, Ds, and Fs.)

And, 82% of the students said they preferred interteaching classes to lectures.

So: yes, interteaching helps online learners, even in asynchronous classes.

Always with the Nuance

I haven’t yet found any research looking at interteaching in K-12 classrooms.

I suspect that students need a well-developed academic skills to manage the more independent parts of this approach. That is: I would hypothesize that the method works better in high school and college than with earlier grades.

In particular, the metacognitive step — the “record sheets” — could be very challenging for younger students. Even my high-school sophomores don’t reliably understand what they don’t understand. (Dunning-Kruger, I’m looking at you.)

At the same, I imagine that the underlying concepts (a balance of “student- and teacher-centeredness”) could be wisely adapted for students at various stages in their academic careers.

I’ll also be curious to hear how this approach works with different subjects (math, history, art, dance) and in different cultural contexts.

 

In brief: I’m intrigued by this approach, and look forward to exploring it in future posts. If only I had known about it a year ago!

The Rise and Fall and Rise of Growth Mindset
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Few theories in education have had a more dramatic story arc than Carol Dweck’s “Mindset.”

Based on research she started in the early 1970s, Dweck published her sumptuously-titled book Mindset, The New Psychology of Success: How We Can Learn to Fulfill our Potential in 2006. By the time I entered this field in 2008, it had gone beyond “must read” status to the “what do you mean you haven’t read it?” pantheon.

Like millions of other teachers, I read it. (In fact, I wrote my own book about Mindset: Learning Grows.)

Across the country, Growth Mindset posters went up on classroom walls. Grading standards changed to include the words “not yet.”

Like any big target, Dweck’s work attracted detractors. Doubts reached their pinnacle in 2018, when Sisk and Burgoyne published two meta-analyses. Their findings:

Growth mindset doesn’t really make much of difference for student learning.

Programs designed to enhance growth mindset have little meaningful effect.

Other large-scale studies, including this one from Argentina, reported similarly doubts.

Mindset’s potential, contrary to Dweck’s subtitle, remained unfulfilled.

Fresh Plot Twist?

Since the Sisk & Burgoyne meta-analyses, it has become fashionable to say “Successful mindset interventions have one variable in common: Carol Dweck did them.”

This critique is both untrue — lots of other researchers have found positive results — and unprofessional: it implies (without directly accusing) that Dweck either has been sloppy or has cooked her data.

And yet, anyone who reads Dweck’s research over the years would hesitate to throw such shade.

A freshly released heap o’ data, in fact, might restore some interest in Mindset.

Every three years, the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) tests 15-year-olds in science, math, and reading. They gather all sorts of data and publish those results.

In fact, recently released data from the 2018 sitting connects a Growth Mindset with higher academic achievement. (You can read a summary article here, and see the full chapter here.)

As Sarah Sparks summarizes the data:

After controlling for students’ and schools’ socioeconomic differences, students with a strong growth mindset scored significantly higher on all subjects—31.5 points in reading, 27 points in science, and 23 points in math—compared with students who believed their intelligence was fixed.

Unsurprisingly, Sparks reports, teachers matter:

Students with supportive teachers—for example, those who show interest in every student learning and a willingness to provide extra help and explanation until a student understands—were 4 percentage points more likely to have a growth mindset than those without a supportive instructor.

In other words: when we look past the shade and the snark, we find that growth mindsets might help learning, and that teachers can help foster them.

Stop the Pendulum

Our profession, alas, tends to extremes. We might embrace Mindset Theory as our school’s shining mission; we might reject it as fashionable pseudo-science.

I hope this time we can aim for a modest middle ground. A few points to keep in mind:

First: the PISA data show correlation, not causation.

Second: they come from self-report.

Third: they show wide differences across country and culture. (For instance: this graph caught my eye.)

Rather than put all our energies into this one strategy (or, into denigrating this one strategy), I think we can adopt a sensible logical chain:

A: Motivated students learn more, but teachers can struggle to motivate students. (Let’s admit it: much of what we study in schools isn’t intrinsically motivating for most students.)

B: On average, a growth mindset offers many students a motivational boost.

C: On average, specific teaching practices make it somewhat likelier that students will adopt a growth mindset.

D: If we can easily adopt — and easily maintain — culturally-appropriate teaching practices that enhance a growth mindset, our efforts will help some students learn.

E: Therefore, let’s do so.

Do I think a one-shot mindset intervention will help? Probably not. (I don’t think a one-shot intervention of anything will help.)

Do I think that Mindset strategies — consistently and modestly applied — will help? I do.

Should those strategies be accompanied by many other research-supported approaches (retrieval practice, metacognition, cognitive-load monitoring, attention-fostering, stress-reduction)? Indeed they should.

A True Story

I did some consulting at a summer camp two years ago. When I went to the archery department, they asked if I wanted to try my hand with a bow.

NO, reader, I DID NOT.

As a camper at this very camp decades before, I had experienced repeated humiliation; I only rarely hit the target, and often missed comically/catastrophically. Honestly, it was dreadful — one of those experiences that, 40 years later, can STILL make me blush.

After a moment of terror, I said to myself:

“Okay, Andrew, you talk about Growth Mindset all the time. Give it a try. Your goal shouldn’t be to get a perfect score. Just try to learn a bit and improve. That’s what you tell your students. Practice what you preach.”

What happened next was an archery miracle.

It turns out that I am right handed, but I sight with my left eye. I had been humiliated all those years ago because I was shooting with the wrong bow.

Once they got a lefty bow into my hand, taught me the stance and a few breathing tricks, I found that I’m a passable archer.

I’m no Robin Hood, but I felt like I hit the bullseye.

Proxy Battles: The Value of Handshakes at the Door
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Should teachers welcome students to the classroom with elaborate individual handshakes?

Or — in these COVIDian days of ours — with elaborate dances? (If you’re on Twitter, you can check out @thedopeeducator’s post from March 17 of 2021 for an example.)

This question generates a surprising amount of heat. Around here that heat means: let’s look for research!

What Does “The Research” Say?

Truthfully, I can’t find much research on this question. Teachers have strong feelings on the subject, but the topic hasn’t gotten much scholarly attention.

The exception to this rule: Dr. Clayton Cook’s study on “Positive Greetings at the Door” from 2018.

As I described this study back in 2019, researchers trained teachers in a two-step process:

First: greet each student positively at the door: “Good morning, Dan — great hat!”

Second: offer “precorretive” reminders: “We’re starting with our flashcards, so be sure to take them out right away.”

The researchers trained five teachers (in sixth, seventh, and eighth grades) in these strategies.

Their results — compared to an “active” control group — were encouraging:

For the control group, time on task was in the mid-to-high 50%, while disruptive behaviors took place about 15% of the time.

For the positive greeting group, researchers saw big changes.

Time on task went from the high-50% to more than 80% of the time.

Disruptive behaviors fell from ~15% to less than 5% of the time.

All that from positive greetings.

A Clear Winner?

Handshake advocates might be tempted to read this study and declare victory. However, we have many good reasons to move more deliberately.

First: although handshakes are a kind of “positive greeting,” they’re not the only “positive greeting.” Researchers didn’t specify handshakes; they certainly didn’t require elaborate dances.

So, we can’t use this research to insist on either of those approaches. Teachers’ greetings should be specific and positive, but needn’t be handshake-y or dance-y.

Second: the “positive greetings” strategy requires an addition step — “precorrective guidance.” Once the handshake/greeting is complete, the teacher should offer specific directions about the next appropriate step…

… start the exercise on the board,

… take out your notebook and write the date,

… remember the definitions of yesterday’s key words.

Handshakes alone don’t match this research strategy. We need to do more to get these results.

Third: this research took place in a very specific context. Researchers asked principals to nominate classes that had seen higher-than-average levels of disruption.

That is: if your class is already well behaved, you might not see much of a change. (Of course, if your class is already well behaved, you don’t really need much of a change.)

And One More Thing (Well, TWO More Things)

I think Dr. Cook’s study helpful, clear, and well-done. However, as far as I know, it’s one of a kind. His research hasn’t been replicated (or, for that matter, contradicted). According to both Scite.ai and ConnectedPapers.com, this one study is everything we know from a research perspective.

In brief: the little research we have is encouraging. But: it doesn’t require elaborate choreography. It does require “precorrective guidance.” And, as Daniel Willingham says: “One study is just one study, folks.”

A final thought:

I suspect that “handshakes at the door” generate so much controversy because they’re a proxy for a wider battle of extremes.

Extreme #1: “If teachers put all our energy into forming relationships, students will inevitably learn more!”

Extreme #2: “That’s obviously dreadful nonsense.”

That is: “handshakes at the door” stand in for “relationships-first” teaching. Hence all the passion on Twitter.

This battle, I think, largely sacrifices sensible nuance to passionate belief.

On the one hand: of course, students (on average) learn more when they feel a sense of safety, respect, and connection. Some students (especially those who have experienced trauma) might struggle to learn without those things.

And, on the other hand: of course students can learn from teachers they don’t really like, and from teachers with whom they have no real connection. Lecture-based college courses depend on that model completely. So do military academies.

Handshakes at the door might help us connect with students if they feel comfortable and fun for us. But: plenty of individual teachers would feel awkward doing such a thing. Many school or cultural contexts would make such handshakes seem weird or silly or discomforting.

If such handshakes strengthen relationships, they might be a useful tool. If your relationships are already quite good, or if you’d feel foolish doing such a thing, or if your cultural context looks askance at such rituals, you can enhance relationships in other ways.

As is so often the case, we don’t need to get pulled onto a team — championing our side and decrying the other. We can, instead, check out available research, see how its conclusions apply to our context, and understand that optimal teaching practices might vary from place to place.

The 10-Minute Rule: Is The Lecture Dead?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

The “10-minute rule” offers teachers practical guidance. It typically sounds something like this:

If students aren’t intrinsically interested in material, they can pay attention to it for no more than 10 minutes.

Ergo: teachers should do something different every ten minutes.

Ergo: the lecture is dead.

I first heard the “10-minute rule” at a conference in 2008, and run across it frequently when I work with teachers. They too, it seems, heard it at a conference.

Any rule that gets so much love at teaching conferences must be true, right?

Research-Aligned Teaching Advice

If you’re reading this blog, you want your teaching to have research behind it. So, what exactly is the research behind the “10-minute rule?”

Neil Bradbury is glad you asked. He looked into its history, and came up with some astonishing results: results that would be funny if they weren’t so alarming.

Let’s start with a Johnstone and Percival study from 1976, where two researchers visited 90 lecture classes (!). By comparing observations, they agreed that attention started to wane within the first five minutes (!!), with another decrease in the 10-18 minute range (!!!).

As Bradbury reports, however, this conclusion gets murky quickly:

First: they visited only 13% of those lectures together. In other words: 87% of their data come from one lone observer.

Second: they don’t report how they measured attention, or — for that matter — lapses in attention.

That student looking out the window: is she distracted by a bird, or concentrating on the professor’s complex argument?

That student looking keenly at the slides: is he engrossed in the topic, or trying to remember his lines for tonight’s rehearsal?

Johnstone and Percival have no way to know.

In other words: the “10-minute rule” rests on the hunchy sense of two visitors who were — as far as we can tell — simply relying on their guts. Whatever we call that, we don’t call it “research.”

And, whatever we do with their hunches, we shouldn’t change our teaching because of them.

Measuring Attention

This study highlights a complex problem. Attention, of course, takes place inside our heads. How can we measure it?

One solution: keep track of students’ note taking. Perhaps, students take more notes when they pay attention, and fewer notes when they don’t?

If that hypothesis is true, then students who write less are paying less attention. When we find a steep decline in note taking, we’ve found the moment when attention has dropped off. Sure enough: a 10-minute increment turns out to be crucial.

Alas, as Bradbury points out, this approach also collapses.

First: students take notes relatively consistently throughout a lecture. Their note taking falls off in the final ten minutes, not after the first ten minutes.

Second: in fact, the quantity of note taking results from the professor’s lecture, not from the point in the lecture. When the speaker makes key points, students write more. When the professor is recapping, or simply winding down — as she might do at the end of a lecture — they take fewer notes.

As Bradbury pithily summarizes this approach:

Note taking is not a good proxy for attention whatsoever, and even it if were, it does not support a 10- to 15- minute limit on student engagement.

BOOM.

Let’s Get Physical

If note-taking doesn’t measure attention, perhaps we can use biological measures instead.

Research by Bligh used a pulsemeter to measure students’ alertness. This study found that their pulses dropped roughly 14% over the course of the class.

At last: research confirmation of the “10-minute rule”?

Alas, Bligh’s research found the same results during a discussion class as during a lecture.

We might think that a lower pulse suggests less attention. If it does, then neither class format sustains attention.

Classroom Implications

In brief, the “10-minute rule” isn’t a rule, and doesn’t last ten minutes.

More precisely: we have no research suggesting it’s a rule with a consistent time limit.

Given that truth, what should we teachers do?

First: focus on the obvious truth that people are different.

Older students can (probably) pay attention longer than younger ones.

Hungry students (probably) pay less attention than less-hungry ones. (Except right after lunch.)

Some cultures prioritize focused attention more than others.

Some lecturers know how to hold an audience better than others.

Your approach to teaching should vary based on your specific circumstances, not be dictated by an arbitrary rule (which sounds authoritative but has no research backing.)

For instance: I’m currently teaching two sections of the same class — one in person and the other online. I teach them differently because attention can be more difficult online. (And because the online section meets earlier in the day — a real challenge for high school students.)

Second: study the science of attention.

Surprisingly, attention isn’t one thing.

Instead, attention is a behavioral combination of three distinct mental processes.

The more teachers understand that complex mix, the more successful we can be in creating the behavior by managing the mental processes.

I’ve written a book on this subject: Learning Begins: A Classroom Teacher’s Guide to Working Memory and Attention. (Ryan Reynolds will play me in the movie, I’m sure.)

Or, you can read LOTS of great articles: here’s one place to start.

Whichever approach you take, don’t let implausible absolute rules shape your thinking. Pay attention to your students, and to attention itself. Those two beacons will guide you on your classroom journey.


In the past, I’ve cited Wilson and Korn’s 2007 discussion of this topic. My thanks to Zach Groshell (Twitter handle: @MrZachG) for pointing to Bradbury’s wonderful article.