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Does a Teacher’s Enthusiasm Improve Learning?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Sometimes research confirms our prior beliefs.

Sometimes it contradicts those beliefs.

And sometimes, research adds nuance and insight to overly-broad generalizations.

Here’s the story:

Benefits of Enthusiasm

It seems too obvious to say that a teacher’s enthusiasm benefits learning. OF COURSE it would do that.

After all, what student wants a boring, unenthusiastic teacher?

But psychology is a science. We don’t just announce that our beliefs — even really obvious beliefs — are true.

Instead, we convert those beliefs into testable hypotheses. We run some experiments. We look at data.

IF the data from the experiment support the hypothesis, then we can start making (tentative) claims.

Once we start thinking scientifically about the effects of a teacher’s enthusiasm, we quickly run into difficult questions.

How, exactly, do we define “enthusiasm”?

One we’ve got a definition, how do we measure it?

What results are we looking for? Do we want enthusiasm to promote students’ attention? Their motivation? Their learning?

If we don’t have clear answers to those questions, we can’t proceed with a scientific answer. (We can, of course, have an answer based on personal experience. Those answers are important, but not the same thing as a scientific answer.)

Getting Specific

In a study published in 2020 — “Displayed enthusiasm attracts attention and improves recall” — several scholars took on those challenges directly.

They started by training teachers in behaviors that demonstrate high levels of enthusiasm (exuberant gestures, varied facial expression, excited & rapid speech, etc.) and low levels of enthusiasm (a few quiet gestures, fixed facial expression, vocal monotone).

Teachers then read two short passages to 4th and 5th grade public-school students. One passage was a story about a farmer; the other was a description of the habits and characteristics of dragonflies. (By the way: this distinction between the story and the description will turn out to be important.)

These passages together took about 3 minutes to read.

To measure the effect of high enthusiasm vs. low enthusiasm, researchers counted several variables, including…

… the number of seconds that students looked at the reader;

… the number of times that students smiled;

… and, the number of facts about the farmer story and dragonfly description that students recalled.

In other words: these researchers found ways to answer those scientific questions listed above. So far, so good.

Asking Tough Questions

At this point, we can ask some reasonable questions:

First, counting “number of seconds” seems like a basically plausible way of measuring attention. (We can quibble, and ask for other measures, and explain why that measure isn’t perfect, but it’s plausible on its face.)

However, I myself think that “counting smiles” seems unusually squishy for a research-based conclusion. Perhaps I’m being overly picky here, but “smiles” strike me as a highly amorphous unit of counting.

Second, the duration of the “enthusiasm” — all of 3 minutes — might not be a helpfully representative amount of time.

For instance: a teacher might delight students by telling jokes for a minute or two at the beginning of class. All that humor might get high ratings from students.

But: if that teacher keeps telling jokes, all that forced humor might get irritating after a while. So too, “high enthusiasm” might have one effect for 3 minutes and a very different effect after 30.

Third, the study measures how many facts students remember immediately after they heard the reading.

Of course, teachers don’t want students to remember just right away; we want them to remember for a long time. And the relationship between short-term and long-term memory gets really complicated.

Strategies that help immediate recall might not enhance long-term learning; Nick Soderstrom has the goods here.

Results?

So, what did the researchers find?

Any study that measures so many variables will produce LOTS of findings. Those findings will be difficult to summarize easily.

The study summarizes their findings in this sentence:

Our results confirm that displayed enthusiasm captures attention and that attention partially explains the positive effect of displayed enthusiasm on recall.

For the reasons listed above, I’m hesitant to accept that conclusion without several caveats. At a minimum, I wish it said “short-term recall.”

Even more important, I think this summary overlooks a crucial finding. Researchers found that “enthusiasm” enhanced short-term recall for the farmer story, but NOT for the dragonfly description.

This distinction leads to an important question: do you spend more time in your classroom telling (farmer-like) stories or providing (dragonfly-like) information and descriptions?

The answer to that question certainly varies from teacher to teacher, from grade to grade, from discipline to discipline, from culture to culture.

Even the most optimistic reading of this study suggests that high enthusiasm will help students remember the story, but not the information.

That’s an important distinction; one we should make clearly when offering advice to teachers.

The Bigger Picture

I myself have a hypothesis.

I suspect that a teacher’s consistent and genuine enthusiasm — not 3 minutes, not 3 weeks, but maybe 3 months or more — gradually creates a particular kind of classroom atmosphere.

That atmosphere — quietly, subtly, probably immeasurably — helps students appreciate the class work, the discipline, and the camaraderie/community.

For instance: a student recently described one of my colleagues this way: “Oh, Ms. So-and-So! She’s the ONLY reason I like English…” Knowing Ms. So-and-So’s enthusiasm for her subject,  I can certainly understand why she would inspire a doubting high-school student.

And I suspect her enthusiasm ultimately means that this student learns more English.

As you can see, my hypothesis doesn’t stem from research. Heck: it’s so nebulous that I don’t think it could be researched.

In other words: do I think that a teacher’s enthusiasm ultimately enhances learning? I do. And: my belief springs not from research, but from experience and common sense. *


Moe, A., Frenzel, A. C., Au, L., & Taxer, J. L. (2021). Displayed enthusiasm attracts attention and improves recall. British Journal of Educational Psychology91(3), 911-927.


* To be clear: I haven’t done a comprehensive search for research on teacher enthusiasm. I did plug this study into ConnectedPapers.com, and quickly scanned the results. As far as I could tell from this very brief look, research in this field is pursuing lots of helpful and optimistic leads, but doesn’t yet have confident conclusions. If you know of persuasive research looking at this topic, I hope you’ll let me know!

When Analogies Go Wrong: The Benefits of Stress?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

An amazing discovery becomes an inspiring analogy:

Researchers at BioSphere 2 noticed a bizarre series of events: their trees kept collapsing under their own weight.

Why on earth would trees collapse? It doesn’t happen outside the BioSphere; so why would it happen inside?

And then the researchers figured it out. The BioSphere doesn’t have wind.

Trees react to the stress of wind by growing stronger. If they don’t get that beneficial stress, they can’t stand up when they become adult trees.

And here’s the heart-warming bit: that’s true for humans too.

As we grow and develop, we need some modest, reasonable stresses in our lives. Those small stressors make our emotional “tree trunks” strong, so we can manage the greater stresses of adult life.

I really want to make an uplifting poster right now — don’t you?

First Things First

This story that I’ve told begins with science: “Researchers at the Biosphere…”

And so, when I read that story, I felt a small shudder of delight. I can use this story to explain to students — and parents, and teachers — the benefits of reasonable/modest stresses in their lives.

After all, it’s a GREAT story, and a great analogy.

Even better, I can share the research behind it. (That’s what I do for a living: share research with teachers, students, and parents.)

However, the website where I first read that story doesn’t link to any research.

Hmmm.

So, I started looking.

This trees-need-wind story (and its uplifting analogy) shows up frequently on the interwebs. In fact, I think I notice two waves — one around 2013, another around 2020.

But, exactly none of the articles included any scientific links — much less links supporting the claim.

Glimmers of Hope?

When I switched from Google to Google Scholar, I did find this brief report.

It appears in Science magazine — a highly reputable source — and includes this sentence:

The trunks and branches of large trees became brittle and prone to catastrophic and dangerous collapse.

So, have I found the scientific backing that this analogy was missing?

Alas, this sentence is but one part of a long catalogue of problems in BioSphere 2, as noted in that report:

Vines grew “exceptionally aggressive[ly].”

19 of 25 vertebrate species went extinct.

“All pollinators went extinct.”

CO2 levels, oxygen levels, temperature, and light exposure all went haywire.

And, NONE of these problems has much of anything to do with wind.

In fact, the word “wind” doesn’t appear in this brief article.

Simply put: as far as I can tell, the whole “wind makes trees stronger” story sounds great, but has no research backing — certainly not at Biosphere 2.

Some Conclusions

First: does wind help strengthen trees?

Maybe.

I’ve been reading about something called — believe it or not — “reaction wood.” You can read about it here.

Second: does manageable stress benefit people in the long run.

Sure.

Check out “Yerkes-Dodson.”

Third: should we use uplifting-but-false analogies to communicate important scientific truths?

As long as Learning and the Brain is here, heck no.

Failure to Disrupt by Justin Reich
Erik Jahner, PhD
Erik Jahner, PhD

Failure to Disrupt: Why Technology Alone Can’t Transform Education is a well-written critical synthesis of overzealous claims and unrealistic attempts to revolutionize education through technology. Its author, Justin Reich, is an Assistant Professor in the Comparative Media Studies department at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) where he studies future learning. He is also the creator of several publications and EdX courses on education as well as the designer of online courses for teacher education (which he offers a critique of in the current work). His writing here, while critical of the field’s progress, is also inspiring with down-to-earth realism that gives the reader access to a balanced evaluation of technology’s impact on education.

The previous decades have been loaded with unfulfilled promises offered by technology. Fears that teachers would be replaced by computers were ultimately unrealized but too was the dream of a radical improvement and the democratization of a suffering education system. Bombarded by every innovation and the pandemic, the teacher and administrator could be forgiven for not seeing through the weeds of their own learning management systems. The claims have been loud, but the practice has become habitual and administrative without time or cognitive space for critical evaluation (although we have all had the best of intentions). Training new teachers on technology and standardizing systems have become the practices of everyday teaching. There is a lot out there, but no clear way to sort through it. This book is a nice place to catch up and get back in the game.

There is no doubt that this book is critical of aspects of the education-via-technology revolution, but Reich is not ranting against the use of technology. He instead grounds evaluation in research, breaking his insights into several themes. Schools, teachers, and society will often use new technologies not to innovate and transform ways of educating but instead they become new playgrounds for old practices. Current systems exhibit a strong gravity to maintain practices, and new technologies can become just another way to duplicate previous methods pulling along for the ride both what works and what doesn’t. Regarding computer-assisted instruction and assessment, we have found that these still are most effective at routine learning and highly formalized technical knowledge. They do not yet effectively tackle the development of communicative competence, critical thinking, abstract thinking, and reasoning. Furthermore, the promise of equity has not been borne out so far by the technology. It seems to be that those with greater access use the technology more frequently and more efficaciously than those who have been traditionally neglected by the system; as Reich argues, educational technology may widen already existing gaps. And finally, the promise of big data insights that have been so useful in other sciences has been severely limited by privacy laws and restrictions on student experimentation. The author dissuades us of the notion offered by the sales reps that the technology will be the magic pill of education. However, while these claims appear pessimistic, there is much more to this text than deconstructing the ed-tech industry.

Through engaging the book, the reader develops a better understanding of the larger ecology of instructional technologies. Reich arms the reader with systems of thinking and methods of evaluation that empower readers to be informed consumers of existing and emerging computer-aided instruction. Through this evaluation, Reich also makes the reader aware of their own practices in existing frameworks. I found myself rethinking what I was using technology for in the courses I teach but also learned about many other systems that were out there. What others are doing well, and how I could capitalize on their learnings to broaden my own impact. The reader can use this book similarly to tinker around the edges and discover what might work well for their content-specific learning goals while being aware of the potential caveats, persistent pitfalls, and opportunities while integrating technology in instruction.

One of Reich’s main points is that learning technologies are not wholly new. They are new forms of previous technologies and ways of thinking. We can also learn about current technologies by looking back at their historic forms and the theory that the new forms are built upon. This is also probably true of the field of education, often new theorists and practitioners repackage previous ideas and their successes or failures are somewhat predictable based on previous iterations.  Reich’s assessment of emerging systems helps unify this history and our ongoing missions in education.

Handwritten Notes or Laptop Notes: A Skeptic Converted?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Here’s a practical question: should our students take notes by hand, or on laptops?

If we were confident that one strategy or the other produced more learning – factual learning, conceptual learning, ENDURING learning – then we could give our students straightforwardly useful advice.

Sadly, the research in this field has – in my opinion – produced unhelpful advice because it rests on an obviously flawed assumption.

Happily, Dr. Paul Penn (Twitter handle @Dr_Paul_Penn) recently pointed me to a study with several pertinent benefits.

First, the researchers worked with 10-year-olds, not with adults. Research with college students can be useful, but it might not always help K-12 teachers.

Second, the research took place in the students’ regular classroom, not in a psychology lab. This more realistic setting gives us greater confidence in the research’s applicability.

Third, students took notes in both a science class and in a history class. The disciplinary breadth makes its guidance more useful.

Finally, this study – for reasons that I’ll explain – makes the “obviously flawed assumption” go away.

In this post,

I’ll start by explaining the new study.

Then I’ll explain the initial study (with the “obvious flaw”).

Then I’ll explain how the new study – by accident – makes that flaw go away.

I’ll wrap up with the big picture.

The Black Death, and Beyond

Researchers Simon Horbury and Caroline Edmonds had ten-year-olds watch videos in their history and science classes.

The history videos focused on the Black Death. The science video explored cells.

Students took laptop notes in one class, and handwritten notes in the other.

Immediately after the videos, and then again a week later, students took a multiple choice quiz. Questions covered both factual recall (“Where did the Black Death originate?”) and conceptual understanding (“Why were the wealthy less likely to be afflicted by the plague?”).

To be thorough, researchers even counted the number of words students wrote in their notes. (Believe it or not, this detail will turn out to be important at the end of this post.)

So, did it matter how students took notes?

Yup.

The study measures several variables, but the headline is: in both science and history, taking notes by hand improved learning – especially a week later.

The study includes lots of specifics — conceptual vs. factual, immediate test vs. week-later test — but that summary gets the job done.

Yes, this is a very small study (26 people at its biggest), so we shouldn’t think it’s the final word on the matter. But it offers good reason to believe that handwritten notes help.

Back to the Beginning

Like all research in this field, Horbury & Edmonds’s work rests atop a well-known study by Mueller and Oppenheimer, cleverly entitled “The Pen Is Mightier than the Laptop.”

I’ve written about this study several times before, so I’ll be brief here.

Mueller and Oppenheimer had one group of college students take notes by hand, and another group take notes on a laptop. They found that two variables mattered for learning:

Variable #1: the number of words students wrote. Crudely put: more words in notes resulted in more learning.

This finding isn’t terribly surprising. More writing suggests more thinking; more thinking suggests more learning.

Variable #2: the degree to which students reworded the lecture. Student who put the lecture’s ideas into their own words learned more than those who simply took notes verbatim.

Again, this finding makes sense. If I simply copy down the lecturer’s ideas, I’m not thinking much. If I put them in my own words, well, now I’m thinking more.

So far, so good. No obvious flaws.

Now the study gets tricky.

The students who took handwritten notes wrote FEWER words (that’s bad), so they had to REWORD the lecture (that’s good).

The students who took laptop notes could write MORE words (that’s good), so they ended up copying the lecture VERBATIM (that’s bad).

Which pairing of good+bad is better?

In Mueller and Oppenheimer’s conclusion, handwritten notes resulted in more learning.

It’s okay to write fewer words, as long as you’re rewording as you go. Remember: more rewording = more thinking.

Obvious Flaw

I promised several paragraphs ago to point out the obvious flaw in the study. Here goes:

Mueller and Oppenheimer saw an obvious possibility: if we TRAIN laptop note takers to reword, then they’ll get BOTH benefits.

That is, students who take laptop notes correctly get the advantages of more words and more rewording.

So much thinking! So much learning!

So, the researchers ran the study again. This time they included a third group: laptop note takers who got instructions not to reword.

What happened?

Nothing. Even though they got those instructions, laptop note takers continued to copy verbatim. They still remembered less than their handwriting peers.

The Mueller and Oppenheimer study draws this conclusion: since students can’t be trained to take laptop notes correctly – and they tried! – then handwritten notes are best.

WAIT JUST A SECOND. [Please mentally insert the sound of a record scratch here.]

The researchers told students – ONCE – to change a long-held habit (verbatim copying of notes). When students failed to do so, they concluded that students can’t ever change.

In my own experience, telling my students to do something once practically NEVER has much of an effect.

Students need practice. LOTS of practice. Practice and FEEDBACK. Lots of feedback.

Obviously.

In other words, I think the Mueller and Oppenheimer study contains a conspicuous failure in logic. We shouldn’t conclude that handwritten notes are better. We SHOULD conclude that we should teach students to take laptop notes and reword as they do so.

If they can learn to do so (of course they can!), then laptop notes will be better — because they allow more words AND rewording.

Muller and Oppenheimer’s own data make that the most plausible conclusion.

Conflicting Messages

To review:

The Horbury & Edmonds study suggests that handwritten notes are better.

The Mueller and Oppenheimer study suggests (to me, at least) that laptop notes will be better – as long as students are correctly trained to reword notes as they go.

Which advice should we follow?

My answer comes back to that obscure detail I noted in parentheses.

Horbury and Edmonds, you may remember, counted the number of words students wrote. Unlike the college students, who can type faster than they write, 10-year-olds don’t.

They wrote basically the same number of words by hand as they did on the laptop.

Here’s the key point: as long as students write as fast as they type, the hypothetical advantage that I predict for college laptop note-takers simply won’t apply to younger students.

After all, laptop notes provide additional benefit only if students write more words. These younger typists don’t write more words.

Since handwritten notes produce more learning, let’s go with those!

Final Thoughts

In this post, I’ve considered two studies about note taking and laptops.

In truth, several studies explore this field. And, unsurprisingly, the results are a bit of a hodge-podge.

If you want a broader review of research in this field, check out this video from Dr. Paul Penn, who first pointed me to the Horbury and Edmonds study:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXLHxf__poE

Given the research we have, I DON’T think we can make emphatic, confident claims.

But, based on this study with 10-year-olds, I’m much more open to the possibility that handwritten notes are — at least in younger grades — the way to go.


Horbury, S. R., & Edmonds, C. J. (2021). Taking class notes by hand compared to typing: Effects on children’s recall and understanding. Journal of Research in Childhood Education35(1), 55-67.

Mueller, P. A., & Oppenheimer, D. M. (2014). The pen is mightier than the keyboard: Advantages of longhand over laptop note taking. Psychological science25(6), 1159-1168.

Too Good to Be True? “Even Short Nature Walks Improve Cognition”?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Good news makes me nervous.

More precisely: if I want to believe a research finding, I become very suspicious of it. After all: it’s easy to fool me when I want to be fooled.

Specifically: I’m an outdoors guy. I’ve worked at summer camps for ages, and love a good walk in the forests around Walden Pond.

So, when I read research showing that even a brief nature walk produces cognitive benefitsI’m both VERY EXCITED and EXTRA SKEPTICAL.

Let’s start with the assumption that it’s just not true.

Persuade Me

The research I’m speaking of is in fact a review article; it summarizes and compares the results of 14 studies. (The review article was flagged by Professor Dan Willingham, one of the leaders in translating science research for the classroom.)

These 14 studies shared important commonalities:

First: they looked at “one-time” exposure to nature. They didn’t look at — say — outdoor education programs. Instead, they looked at — say — a brisk walk in a park near the school.

Second: these “one-time exposures” were all relatively brief — somewhere between 10 and 90 minutes.

Third: these “brief, one-time exposures” did NOT deliberately focus the participants on nature. That is: students didn’t walk in the park to learn about trees and birds. They walked in the park to have the experience of walking in the park.

I might be skeptical about one study. I might be skeptical of two studies. But if 14 studies (or a substantial percentage of them) all reach the same conclusion … well, maybe I’ll be persuaded.

Equally interesting: these studies ran the K-16 gamut. We’re not looking at a narrow age-range here: more like two decades.

Conclusions (and Questions)

So, what did this potentially-persuasive bunch of studies show?

YES: in 12 of the 14 studies, brief, one-time, passive exposure to nature does benefit cognition.

More specifically, researchers found benefits in measures of directed attention and working memory.

They looked for, but did not find, benefits in measures of inhibition (another important executive function).

And, crucially, they did not measure academic performance. If a walk in nature enhances attention and working memory, we can reasonably predict that it will also improve learning. But: these studies did not measure that prediction.

Because this review covers so many studies, it’s easy to get lost in the details.

One point I do want to emphasize: the impressive variety of “exposures.”

Some students walked or played in a park, woods, or nature trail.

Some simply sat and read outdoors.

Amazingly, some walked on a treadmill watching a simulated nature trail on the monitor.

In fact, some simply sat in a classroom “with windows open on to green space.”

In other words: it doesn’t take much nature to get the benefits of nature.

Inevitable Caveats

First: in these studies, exposure to nature helped restore attention and working memory capacity that had been strained.

It did not somehow increase overall attention and WM capacity in an enduring way. Students recovered faster. But they didn’t end up with more of these capacities than they started with.

Second: most of these “exposures” included some modest physical activity.

How much (if any) of the benefit came from that physical exertion, instead of the greenery?

We don’t yet know.

A Skeptic Converted?

I have to say, I’m strongly swayed by this review.

In the past, I’ve seen studies that might contradict this set of conclusions.

But the number of studies, the variety of conditions, the variety of cognitive measures, and the range of ages all seem very encouraging.

Perhaps we can’t (yet) say that “research tells us” brief exposures to nature benefit students. But I feel much more comfortable speculating that this belief just might be true.

Working Memory: Make it Bigger, or Use it Better?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Cognitive science has LOTS of good news for teachers.

Can we help students remember ideas and skills better?

Yes, we can! (Check out retrieval practice and other desirable difficulties).

Can we promote students’ attention?

Yes, we can! (Posner and Rothbart’s “tripartite” theory gives us lots of guidance.)

Can we foster motivation?

Yes, we can! (As long as we’re modest about expectations and honest about the research, growth mindset can help.)

At the same time, we’ve occasionally got bad news as well.

Do cell phones distract students from their work?

Yes, they do! (Even when they’re turned off.)

Do students have “learning styles”?

Not in any meaningful way, no. (As Daniel Willingham says: when it comes to learning, people are more alike than different.)

The WORST News

I regularly talk with teachers and school leaders about working memory.

After a definition and some fun exercises, I emphasize three key points:

First: working memory is ESSENTIAL for learning. No academic information gets into long-term memory except through working memory. (Really.)

Second: it’s sadly LIMITED. (You probably can alphabetize 5 random words. You probably can’t alphabetize 10. You’ve run out of WM.)

Third: we know of no artificial way of making it bigger … except for letting children grow up. (WM capacity increases as we age, until our early twenties. No, you don’t want to know what happens next.)

This third point consistently creates genuine consternation.

Because: we REALLY want to make working memory bigger. After all: it’s essential, and it’s limited.

And because: almost every other cognitive function CAN get bigger.

If you want to learn more Spanish, practice Spanish. You’ll learn more.

If you want to get better at meditation, practice meditation; you’ll get better.

If you want to increase your working memory – and, trust me, you do – common sense suggests that practice should help.

That is: if you keep doing working memory exercises, your working memory should improve.

And yet, weirdly, it just doesn’t. People have tried and tried. Some companies make big claims.

Alas, we just don’t have consistent, robust research suggesting that any of these strategies work.

So, as I say, that’s really bad news.

Don’t Panic: There’s REALLY Good News

After all that bad news, it’s time for some good news. Let me start with an analogy.

I’m 5’10”.

I’m never the first pick for anyone’s basketball team. And: no matter how much I try, I’ll never get any taller.

However – and this is the key point – I can use the height I have more effectively. If I learn how to play basketball well (at my height), I can be a better player.

I’m not taller; my “height capacity” hasn’t changed. But my use of that height can improve.

So too, teachers can help students use the working memory they have more effectively.

In fact, we have LOTS of strategies for helping teachers do so. We have so many strategies that someone should write a book about them. (It’s possible I already did.)

For instance: “dual coding” doesn’t increase students’ WM capacity. It does, however, allow them to use more of the WM that they already have.

For that reason, dual coding – used correctly – can help students learn.

Don’t Stop Now

The good news keeps going.

Like dual coding, relevant knowledge in long-term memory reduces WM demands. The precise reasons get complicated, but the message is clear: students who know more can – on average – think more effectively.*

For that reason, a well-structured curriculum can help students learn. The knowledge they acquire along the way transforms WM-threatening tasks into WM-friendly tasks.

In many cases, simple common sense can manage WM load.

Once teachers understand why instructions take up WM space, we know how to dole out instructions more effectively.

Once we see why choices both motivate students’ interest and stress students’ WM, we can seek out the right number of choices.

So too, once we focus on “the curse of knowledge,” we start to recognize all the ways our own expertise can result in WM overload. This perspective powerfully reshapes lesson plans.

In other words: when teachers understand WM, we begin – naturally and intuitively – to adjust classroom demands to fit within cognitive limits.

That process takes time, with stumbles and muddles along the way. But the more we practice, the more skillful and successful we become.

And, notice this key point: none of these strategies make WM bigger. Instead, they help students use it better.

TL; DR

Although working memory is VITAL for learning, students (and adults) don’t have very much.

We therefore WANT to make it bigger.

The good news is: although we really can’t make it bigger, we really can help students use it more effectively.

When we shift our focus from making it bigger to using it better, we adopt teaching strategies that help students learn.


* For this reason, cognitive scientists get very antsy when they hear the claim that “students don’t need to know facts because they can look them up on the interwebs.” Because of working memory limits, students must have knowledge in long-term memory to use large amounts of it effectively.