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Do Classroom Decorations Distract Students? A Story in 4 Parts…
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson
March 26, 2022

Do Classroom Decorations Distract Students? A Story in 4 Parts…

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Teacher training programs often encourage us to brighten our classrooms with lively, colorful, personal, and uplifting stuff:

Inspirational posters.

Students’ art work.

Anchor charts.

Word walls.

You know the look.

We certainly hope that these decorations invite our students in and invigorate their learning. (We might even have heard that “enriched environments promote learning.”)

At the same time, we might worry that all those decorations could distract our students from important cognitive work.

So, which is it? Do decorations distract or inspire? Do they promote learning or inhibit learning? If only we had research on this question…

Part I: Early Research

But wait: we DO have research on this objection.

Back in 2014, a team led by Dr. Anna Fisher asked if classroom decorations might be “Too Much of a Good Thing.”

They worked with Kindergarten students, and found that — sure enough — students who learned in highly-decorated rooms paid less attention and learned less than others in “sparsely” decorated classroom.

Since then, other researchers have measured students’ performance on specific mental tasks in busy environments, or in plain environments.

The results: the same. A busy visual field reduced working memory and attention scores, compared to plain visual environments.

It seems that we have a “brain-based” answer to our question:

Classroom decorations can indeed be “too much of a good thing.”

Taken too far, they distract students from learning.

Part II: Important Doubts

But wait just one minute…

When I present this research in schools, I find that teachers have a very plausible question.

Sure: those decorations might distract students at first. But, surely the students get used to them.

Decorations might make learning a bit harder at first. But ultimately students WON’T be so distracted, and they WILL feel welcomed, delighted, and inspired.

In this theory, a small short-term problem might well turn into a substantial long-term benefit.

And I have to be honest: that’s a plausible hypothesis.

Given Fisher’s research (and that of other scholars), I think the burden of proof is on people who say that decorations are not distracting. But I don’t have specific research to contradict those objections.

Part III: The Researchers Return

So now maybe you’re thinking: “why don’t researchers study this specific question”?

I’ve got good news: they just did.

In a recently-published study, another research team (including Fisher, and led by Dr. Karrie Godwin, who helped in the 2014 study) wondered if students would get used to the highly decorated classrooms.

Research isn’t research if we don’t use fancy terminology, so they studied “habituation.” As in: did students habituate to the highly decorated classrooms?

In the first half of their study, researchers again worked with Kindergarteners. Students spent five classes studying science topics in plainly decorated classrooms. (The visual material focused only on the topic being presented.)

Then they spent ten classes studying science topics in highly decorated classrooms. (These decorations resembled typical classroom decorations: posters, charts, artwork, etc.)

Unsurprisingly (based on the 2014 study), students were more distractable in the decorated classroom.

But: did they get used to the decorations? Did they become less distractable over time? Did they habituate?

The answer: a little bit.

In other words: students were less distractible than they initially were in the decorated classroom. But they were still more distractible than in the sparsely decorated room.

Even after ten classes, students hadn’t fully habituated.

Part IV: Going Big

This 2-week study with kindergarteners, I think, gives us valuable information.

We might have hoped that students will get used to decorations, and so benefit from their welcoming uplift (but not be harmed by their cognitive cost). So far, this study deflates that hope.

However, we might still hold out a possibility:

If students partially habituate over two weeks, won’t they fully habituate eventually? Won’t the habituation trend continue?

Team Godwin wanted to answer that question too. They ran yet another study in primary school classrooms.

This study had somewhat different parameters (the research nitty-gritty gets quite detailed). But the headline is: this study lasted 15 weeks.

Depending on the school system you’re in, that’s between one-third and one-half of a school year.

How much did the students habituate to the visual distractions?

The answer: not at all.

The distraction rate was the same after fifteen weeks as it was at the beginning of the year.

To my mind, that’s an AMAZING research finding.

Putting It Together

At this point, I think we have a compelling research story.

Despite our training — and, perhaps, despite our love of decoration — we have a substantial body of research suggesting that over-decorated classrooms interfere with learning.

The precise definition of “over-decorated” might take some time to sort out. And, the practical problems of putting up/taking down relevant learning supports deserves thought and sympathetic exploration.

However: we shouldn’t simply hope away the concern that young students can be distracted by the environment.

And we shouldn’t trust that they’ll get used to the busy environment.

Instead, we should deliberately create environments that welcome students, inspire students, and help students concentrate and learn.

Fisher, A. V., Godwin, K. E., & Seltman, H. (2014). Visual environment, attention allocation, and learning in young children: When too much of a good thing may be bad. Psychological science, 25(7), 1362-1370.

Godwin, K. E., Leroux, A. J., Seltman, H., Scupelli, P., & Fisher, A. V. (2022). Effect of Repeated Exposure to the Visual Environment on Young Children’s Attention. Cognitive Science, 46(2), e13093.

Why Time is a Teacher’s Greatest Commodity…and What to Do When You Don’t Have Enough of It
Guest Post
Guest Post
March 23, 2022

Why Time is a Teacher’s Greatest Commodity…and What to Do When You Don’t Have Enough of It

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Today’s guest post is by Jim Heal, Director of New Initiatives, and Rebekah Berlin, Senior Program Director at Deans for Impact.

Long-time readers know how much I respect the work that Deans for Impact does. Their Resources — clear, brief, research informed, bracingly practical — offer insight and guidance in this ever-evolving field.

Ask any teacher to name a rare commodity in their profession and there’s a good chance they will reply with the word: “Time.” Whether it’s time to plan, grade, or even catch one’s breath in the midst of a busy school day, time matters.

Time is perhaps most important when it comes to time spent focusing on the material you want students to learn. So, how do you ensure that you’re making the most of the time you have with students and that they’re making the most of the way you structure their time?

Water Is Life

To answer this, let’s consider the following scenario. You’re a 7th Grade ELA teacher teaching a lesson on ‘Water is Life’ – a nonfiction text by Barbara Kingsolver. One of the objectives for this lesson is: Analyze the development of ideas over the course of a text.

You know from reading the teacher’s guide that student success will require them to compare two parts of the reading: a section describing a lush setting with an abundance of water and another describing an arid setting where rain hardly ever falls. Comparing the two will allow students to explore one of the main ideas of the text: The environmental role played by water and water sustainability.

Here is the section of the lesson[1] designed to address these aims. Take a moment to read it and consider when students are being asked to think deeply about comparing the two settings:

You arrive at school on the morning you’re due to teach this content, and there’s an unexpected announcement for students to attend club photo sessions for the yearbook during your lesson.

Big Changes, Little Time

At this point you realize that, by the time your class gets back together, you’ll need to cut ten minutes from this part of the lesson and now you have a choice to make:

If you only had twenty minutes to teach the thirty minutes of content you had planned for, how would you adapt your plan so that the most important parts of the lesson remained intact?

Let’s begin addressing this challenge with a couple of simple truths:

First: The harder and deeper we think about something, the more durable the memory will be. This means that we need students to think effortfully about the most important content in any lesson if we want it to stick.

Second: If you treat everything in the lesson as equally valuable and try to squeeze it all into less time, students are unlikely to engage in the deep thinking they need to remember the important content later.

Therefore, something’s got to give.

To help determine what goes and stays, you’re going to need to differentiate between three types of instructional tasks that can feature in any given lesson plan.

Effortful Tasks

Tasks and prompts that invite students to think hard and deep about the core content for that lesson.

In the case of ‘Water is Life’ a quick review of the plan tells us the effortful question (i.e. the part that directs students to the core knowledge they will need to think deeply about) doesn’t come until the end of the allotted thirty minute period.

This question is this lesson’s equivalent of the ‘Aha!’ moment in which students are expected to “analyze the development of ideas over the course of the text” (the lesson objective) by exploring the way the author uses juxtaposition across the two settings.

If you reacted to the shortened lesson time by simply sticking to the first twenty minutes’ worth of content, the opportunity for students to engage in the most meaningful part of the lesson would be lost. It’s therefore crucial to ask what is most essential for student learning in each case and ensure that those parts are prioritized.

Essential Tasks

Foundational tasks and prompts that scaffold students to be able to engage with the effortful questions that follow.

Just because effortful thinking about core content is the goal, that doesn’t mean you should make a beeline for the richest part of the lesson without helping students build the essential understanding they will need in order to engage with it effortfully.

In the case of ‘Water is Life’ – even though some of the tasks aren’t necessarily effortful, they are an essential stair step for students to be able to access effortful thinking opportunities.

For example, consider the moment in the lesson immediately prior to the effortful thinking prompt we just identified:

As you can see, even though we want students to go on and address the effortful task of juxtaposing the language in each of the two settings, that step won’t be possible unless they have a good understanding of the settings themselves. This part might not be effortful, but it is essential.

In this example, it isn’t essential that students share their understanding of each setting as stated in the plan, but it is essential that they do this thinking before taking on a complex question about juxtaposed settings. In other words, the instructional strategy used isn’t essential, but the thinking students do is.

Armed with this understanding, you can now shave some time off the edges of the lesson, while keeping its core intentions intact. For instance, in a time crunch, instead of having groups work on both questions the teacher could model the first paragraph and have students complete the second independently.

Strategies like these would ensure students engage more efficiently in the essential tasks – all of which means more time and attention can be paid to the effortful task that comes later on.

Non-Effortful, Non-Essential Tasks

Lower-priority tasks and prompts that focus on tangential aspects of the core content.

Lastly, there are those parts that would be nice to have if time and student attention weren’t at a premium – but they’re not effortful or essential in realizing the goals of the lesson.

If your lesson plan is an example of high-quality instructional materials (as is the case with ‘Water is Life’) you’ll be less likely to encounter these kinds of non-essential lesson components. Nevertheless, even when the lesson plan tells you that a certain section should take 30 minutes, it won’t tell you how to allocate and prioritize that time.

This is why it’s so important to identify any distractions from the ‘main event’ of the lesson. Because effortful questions are just that: they are hard and students will need more time to grapple with their answers and to revise and refine their thinking – all of which can be undermined by non-essential prompts.

For instance, it might be tempting to ask…

…“What was your favorite part of the two passages?”

…“What does water sustainability mean to you?”

…“Has anyone ever been to a particularly wet or dry place? What was it like?

These might seem engaging – and in one definition of the term, they are – it’s just that they don’t engage students with the material you want them to learn. For that reason alone, it’s important to steer clear of adding questions not directly related to your learning target in a lesson where you’re already having to make difficult choices about what to prioritize and why.

Three Key Steps

It’s worth noting that, even though our example scenario started with a surprise announcement, this phenomenon doesn’t only play out when lesson time gets unexpectedly cut. These kinds of decisions can happen when you know your students will need more time to take on an effortful question than the curriculum calls for, or even when lesson time is simply slipping away faster than you had anticipated. In either case, you would need to adjust the pacing of the lesson to accommodate the change, and bound up within that would be the prioritization of its most important parts.

There are steps one can take to ensure the time you have becomes all the time you need. Here are three such strategies informed by Deans For Impact’s work supporting novice and early-career teachers:

Identify the effortful tasks – aka the opportunities for effortful thinking about core content within the lesson. These effortful ‘Aha!’ moments can appear towards the end of the lesson, so don’t assume that you can trim content ‘from the bottom up’ since that could result in doing away with the most important parts for student learning.

Determine which are the essential tasks – aka the foundational scaffolds students will need in order to engage with those effortful thinking opportunities. These stepping stone tasks will often deal with the knowledge and materials students need to engage in the effortful part of the lesson. Even though they can’t be removed, they can be amended. If in doubt, concentrate on the thinking students need to do rather than the surface features of the instructional strategy.

Trim those parts of the lesson that don’t prompt effortful thinking or the foundational knowledge required to engage in it. This means that anything NOT mentioned in the previous two strategies is fair game for shrinking, trimming or doing away with altogether. Ask yourself whether this part of the lesson is instrumental in getting students to engage deeply with the content you want them to take away.

So, even if lesson time always feels like it’s running away (which it often is!) there are steps we can take to ensure teachers (and subsequently students) make the most of it.

Jim Heal is Director of New Initiatives at Deans for Impact and author of ‘How Teaching Happens’. He received his master’s in School Leadership and doctorate in Education Leadership from the Harvard Graduate School of Education.

Rebekah Berlin is Senior Director of Program at Deans for Impact. She received her Ph.D. in teaching quality and teacher education from the University of Virginia.

If you’d like to learn more about the work of Deans for Impact, you can get involved here.

[1] “Grade 7: Module 4B: Unit 1: Lesson 1” by EngageNY. Licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 3.0.

 

Building Thinking Classrooms in Mathematics, Grades K-12 by Peter Liljedahl
Erik Jahner, PhD
Erik Jahner, PhD
March 21, 2022

Building Thinking Classrooms in Mathematics, Grades K-12 by Peter Liljedahl

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Initially, I looked at this title and thought “not another best practice book” the bookstores already have too many poor books on how to teach content effectively. However, I begrudgingly opened Building Thinking Classrooms in Mathematics, Grades K-12: 14 Teaching Practices for Enhancing Learning and found an unexpected reward. As a learning scientist, I was pleasantly surprised by Peter Liljedahl’s approach to education. There is no ivory tower mentality here: no belief that teachers need to align with abstract theory or laboratory learnings not grounded in practice. Liljedahl really sees teachers! The contents of this book come from countless observations and trials in real classrooms and the best practices that emerged from them.  He begins with a basic premise in his observations asking what the factors that encourage “thinking” in the mathematics classroom are; and then, based on extensive research, he unwraps 14 concrete and often deceptively simple recommendations that have emerged.

Yes, a best practices book can be a page-turner. I am not a math teacher, and I would say I did not have a pleasant experience with math in my youth. However, what I was reading here really resonated with me, and the recommendations for enhancing learning are not isolated to mathematics. The reader’s attention is drawn to practices that, at times, seem minor but can have big impacts on learning.  Consistent with the author’s notion of encouraging thinking, the material is presented in such a way that it provokes curiosity. Amazingly simple questions spark interest: where should students practice math: whiteboards on the wall, whiteboards on the table, posterboards, or notebooks? He takes us through the investigation predicting our thinking and ending each section with frequently asked questions that reveal he has had plenty of field experience with teachers and skeptics.

Each chapter engages the teacher’s likely goals and a comparison to student goals. Throughout the book, I found myself in the narrative of each giving me insight into my learning and my teaching. Take group work that is central to every active classroom: when we are instructors, we plan groupings carefully; but when we are students, we often have another interpretation of instructor efforts in mind, and we have our own social goals. Liljedahl brings these into some alignment, so both student and teacher work toward deeper thinking. As the author points out, students and teachers love to think and think deeply when the conditions facilitate and don’t interfere or distract.

While each chapter ends with a summary of the main points in the form of macro and micro moves that we can take as educators, the meat of the chapters offers valuable context and back up the claims in ways that allow us to spread the knowledge captured in these pages among our peers. I tried to critique every suggestion, but the author was particularly good at anticipating this doubt, and those points not addressed in the main narrative were given direct attention in the frequently asked questions sections at the end of each chapter, a part that I particularly enjoyed.

But best practices mean little in standardized systems that constrain our ability to create — “There is no more time. There is no room to add more. ” Stop fretting, evidence is loaded into these pages that refute that the teacher is too constrained to enhance learning in these ways. The author breaks down curricular time into minute-by-minute activities demonstrating that these practices enable efficient use of classroom time. Other concerns about making sure you meet curricular demands are also addressed. Not all activities are curricular and that’s ok; instead, they often prepare the learner to do curricular activities effectively. Constrained by finance? Alternatives abound and are supported by previous implementation and testing. If you have reasons to not enhance student learning as suggested, be prepared to have those concerns alleviated.

So the book is useful for teachers, but what about the researcher who yearns for an academic discussion. If this is you, you also have something great to learn on these pages. This book is an illustrative guide of one excellent way to do great learning science research. The researcher will learn from Liljedahl’s communication and experience with teachers. But will also be tickled by the attention to detail and nuance that is enjoyable in all scientific endeavors. Science is about seeing and noticing and letting the data teach us. This is what you will find here making it an excellent lighthearted college text for preparing teachers or researchers.

Often an education book offers much for the reader as both a teacher and a learner. This book is no exception. Take some of these practices to your own learning opportunities, places of work, research labs, and faculty meetings. Enjoy thinking deeply with Liljedahl.

Liljedahl, P. (2020). Building thinking classrooms in mathematics, grades K-12: 14 teaching practices for enhancing learning. Corwin Press

A Little Help, Please…
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson
March 14, 2022

A Little Help, Please…

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I’ve got a problem, and I’m hoping you can help me.

Here’s the situation…

I work as a high school English teacher. And I’m also a consultant – presenting psychology and neuroscience research for teachers and students and parents.

In that consulting work, I often face this problem: teachers/parents/students believe – quite confidently – in some brain myth or another.

For instance:

When I talk with teachers about managing working memory load, I regularly get this question:

“Can we reduce working memory overload by aligning instruction with students’ learning style?”

When I talk about research into attention and distraction, I often hear this rejoinder:

“Yes, but: all the research shows that an enriched environment enhances learning.”

A discussion about student motivation often defaults to this baseline:

“Around here we remind students to have a growth mindset. That will get the job done.”

A comment about note-taking strategies prompts this response:

“Of course, we know from research that handwritten notes result in more learning than laptop notes.”

In these moments, how should I – the “outside expert” – respond?

We’ve Got Two Hands

On the one hand, I should – obviously – let them know they’re wrong.

First, because they are wrong (as far as research currently shows).

No: learning styles theories have not held up over time. We just don’t have good evidence to support them.

No: ‘enriched environment’ research doesn’t apply to schools. (It was initially done with rats; lots of research suggests that busy classrooms distract from learning. I tell this story in a recent book.)

No: mindset theory is not a slam dunk. This topic churns up lots of controversy, but my own view is…

…we’ve seen enough positive results to think something is going on there,

…and enough negative results to know we don’t have a good handle on the specifics yet.

And

No: the handwriting vs. laptop debate is nowhere near settled.

The second reason to highlight these errors: we don’t want their colleagues to believe these myths.

If I don’t contradict these false beliefs right away, they can easily propagate.

These two truths, however, face an ugly “on the other hand.”

On the Other Hand

When I speak up to contradict these myths, I’m pursuing two goals:

Change the mind of the person who made the comment, and

Encourage other listeners to adopt correct beliefs.

Here’s my awkward question:

does contradicting brain myths directly actually accomplish those goals?

Imagine I say:

“I’m so glad you’ve brought up learning styles. It turns out that the research just hasn’t supported this theory.”

Will the teachers who made those comments in fact change their minds?

Will others around them believe me?

Honestly, I’m not so sure…

A Compelling Backstory

Let’s ask this surprising question: why do people believe in learning styles?

Why do they believe that elaborate classroom decoration enhances learning, or that handwritten notes rule? Why do laptop notes receive so much confident hatred?

Almost certainly, teachers believe in these myths because some other consultant told them that “research says so.”

Or, they heard these myths at a conference touting “brain science!”

That is: teachers don’t believe these myths because they reject research. Teachers believe them because they embrace research.

In many cases, I suspect, they first heard that information at a PD day organized by their principal or district. In other words: they were once professionally expected to believe this myth.

Teachers are not, for the most part, stubborn flat-earth luddites. Instead, they have used these (seemingly) research-based strategies for years. Those strategies might even seem to help.

Why, then, should they change those beliefs? Just because some new guy (me) shows up and says “today’s research shows…”?

The Big Question

So, here’s my problem.

I really must correct brain myths.

And, I’m really unsure that “correcting brain myths” directly will work.

For the last few years, I’ve adopted a 3-step strategy in this situation:

First: I don’t contradict in public. Embarrassing people rarely inspires them to change their opinions.

Instead, I offer strong, research-based alternatives. (“Rather than focus on learning styles to reduce working memory load, I would …”)

Second: I ask that teacher curious questions in a one-on-one conversation:

“Where did you first hear about learning styles? Which version have you tried? What research have you explored? Have you looked at recent studies?”

Once rapport develops, I’ll mention that more current research hasn’t supported the learning styles hypothesis. I might even offer to send links and share resources.

Third: I include school leadership. Most principals and leadership teams I’ve worked with know common neuromyths, and want to root them out.

In-school leaders know better than I the best places to intervene: perhaps a departmental conversation, or a future faculty meeting. That is: they know how to spread the word widely without singling out and embarrassing any one teacher.

I wish I were sure these methods always work. But I simply don’t know.

And so, here are my questions to you:

What approach would be most effective with your colleagues?

What approach would be most effective with you?

If, for instance, you feel entirely certain that handwritten notes work better than laptop notes, what could I say to influence your thinking?

Would it, in fact, help to contradict you at that moment, in front of your peers? (“Let me explain why that study is so obviously flawed…”)

Did the research-based link above open new avenues for your thinking?

Would you rather have a one-on-one conversation about that research?

Honestly, I’m open for suggestions!

TL;DR

We really must correct brain myths in education. And, I’m really unsure about the best way to do so.

I’m hoping that you’ve got helpful suggestions…

Does Higher Engagement Promote Learning?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson
March 02, 2022

Does Higher Engagement Promote Learning?

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Long-time readers know: I thoroughly enjoy research that challenges my beliefs.

After all, I (probably) have lots to learn when a study makes me think anew.

In this case — even better! — I’ve found a study that (I suspect) challenges almost everybody’s beliefs.

Here’s the story…

The “Active vs. Passive” Debate

Education scholars often fiercely advocate for “active learning.”

This phrase serves as a catchy shorthand for several educational beliefs and practices.

People who champion a “constructivist” approach to schools, or embrace project pedagogies, or advocate student “voice and choice” often describe their approach this way.

And, they often point out one crucial benefit to active learning: student “engagement.” Students who shape their own learning feel invested in and energized by their efforts.

Other scholars zealously dispute this account.

Whereas their approach has been dismissed as merely “passive learning,” they often prefer phrases such as “direct instruction” to explain their views.

In this view of learning, limitations on working memory prevent novices from tackling overly complex problems.

Students benefit from highly structured pedagogy, in which expert teachers help students build mental models (“schema”) and thereby achieve their own expertise.

For champions of direct instruction, “engagement” might look good (“the students are all so active!”), but doesn’t necessarily result in actual learning. (Why? Because students might well experience working memory overload….)

If you attended our conference in San Francisco at the beginning of February, you heard speakers embrace both sides of this debate.

This Does Not Compute

A study published in 2019 splendidly complicates this tidy summary.

A research team led by Dr. Louis Deslauriers ran a straightforward experiment.

Researchers worked with two groups of students enrolled in an introductory physics class at Harvard.

The first group studied topic A in an “active learning” paradigm, and topic B with a “passive lecture.”

The second group switched that order: topic A was “passive lecture,” and topic B was “active learning.

The research team found a surprising set of results.

Students learned more from the “active learning” classes, but enjoyed (and thought they learned more from) the “passive lecture.”

Paradoxically, passive learning enhanced engagement but reduced understanding. Active learning enhanced learning but reduced engagement.

Almost everyone will find that combination of results surprising, even disappointing.

Puzzle #1 (with a potential explanation)

Members of Team Active Learning, I suspect, predicted that the students would learn more when their professors followed that approach. Voila: they did.

And (almost certainly) teachers on that team predicted that active learning would result in higher engagement. Yet — as measured in this study — it didn’t.

Students clearly preferred the “passive lecture.”

For instance, survey results show that students wanted other physics courses to be taught with passive lecture/direct instruction.

 

The researchers have a hypothesis explaining this puzzling result. They wonder if the additional cognitive challenge created by active learning resulted in “desirable difficulty.”

That is: the students had to think harder — a challenge they didn’t really enjoy.

And this extra thought resulted in more learning. (You can watch a short video here to learn more about this hypothesis.)

Puzzle #2 (with another potential explanation)

Members of Team Direct Instruction, no doubt, are delighted that students preferred the (misnamed) “passive lecture.” According to the survey results, students felt they learned more from it than from the “active learning.”

And yet, Direct Instruction advocates no doubt feel genuine puzzlement that their preferred approach resulted in less learning. How could that be?

 

I myself have a hypothesis explaining this puzzling finding.

Contrary to many stereotypes, direct instruction advocates do NOT champion uninterrupted lecture.

Instead, they suggest that teachers start with straightforward explanation of core concepts.

Once those have been presented clearly, then students should do substantial independent mental work with those ideas.

In other words, advocates of direct instruction heatedly reject the label “passive learning.” Students do plenty of active cognitive work after they get the benefit of initial priming from instructors.

And yet, in this study, students in the passive learning group had to, in the researchers’ words, “adjust to a complete elimination of any active engagement” — such as “demonstrations, … interactive quizzes, or conceptual questions.”

NO educational thinker feels surprise that students learn less in the total absence of active engagement.

That’s not “direct instruction.” That’s … well … that’s a very bad idea. (To be clear: a very bad idea that happens all too frequently.)

A (Potential) Resolution

Because the “passive learning” condition subjected the students to pure lecture, then this study seems much less surprising (to me).

With “passive learning,”

Students learned LESS from uninterrupted lecture. (Why? They didn’t do any independent mental work with the material.)

Because the professor’s explanation made sense, on the other hand, they FELT they understood the material better.

With “active learning,”

Students learned MORE, because they interacted with the concepts and problems individually.

Alas, they FELT they understood less because they experienced the “difficult” half of “desirable difficulties.”

In other words: the study results seem confusing because the labels don’t mean what we thought they meant.

Until we know EXACTLY what happened in both “passive” and “active” learning, we can’t really judge how well those phrases align with our preconceptions — and with our own teaching practices.

One more thought

If a particular diet benefits, say, professional athletes, will it benefit me?

I’m going to be honest: I’m not a professional athlete.

A diet that benefits their level of physical fitness, metabolism, professional goals, etc., might not be healthy for me. (In his swimming prime, Michael Phelps ate 8000-10,000 calories a day. I suspect my doctor would discourage me from doing so.)

If Harvard even remotely lives up to its reputation, then students in Harvard physics classes understand an impressive amount of science. They have a great deal of motivation to learn more about science. They’ve been impressively successful in academic pursuits.

If a teaching method works with Harvard physics students, will it work with my 10th grade English students? Will it work with your 2nd graders? Maybe … but also, maybe not.

In general: I’m hesitant to apply research done at Harvard (or Stanford, or Oxford, or the US Naval Academy…) to most K-12 learning.

It’s entirely possible that the method “works” not because of the method, but because of the extraordinary background of the students who participate in it.

TL;DR

Before we embrace research “active learning” or “direct instruction,” we should know…

… EXACTLY what those labels mean in the research, and

… the GOODNESS OF FIT between those research participants and our students.

Dan Willingham has wisely written: “one study is just one study, folks.”