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“No Cameras Allowed:” Does Taking Pictures During Lectures Benefit Learning?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson
October 31, 2022

“No Cameras Allowed:” Does Taking Pictures During Lectures Benefit Learning?

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Should students use cameras to take pictures of boardwork?

My high school students know my fierce anti-cell-phone policy. Nonetheless, they do occasionally ask if they may take a quick picture. (I typically say yes, and then check to be sure the phone goes back in the bag.)

When I do PD work at schools, or present at conferences, teachers take pictures of my slides ALL THE TIME.

Of course, the fact that students and teachers want to take those pictures doesn’t automatically mean that it’s a good idea to do so.

In fact, we have several reasons to think it’s a bad idea.

First reason: those photos might serve as subtle hint to our brain’s memory systems: “you don’t need to remember this, because you’ve got a photo.”

Second reason: the act of taking a photo might distract students (and teachers) from the content we’re discussing.

For example: If my students are thinking about framing the photo correctly (and using a cool filter), they’re NOT thinking about the ways that Fences combines both comic and tragic symbols.

Third reason: we’ve got research!

Check this out…

Prior Knowledge

Researchers have looked at this question for several years now.

In several studies, for instance, researchers asked participants to tour a museum and take pictures of various works of art.

Sure enough, later tests revealed that people remember more about the artwork they didn’t photograph than the artwork they did photograph.

As predicted above, something about taking a photograph made it harder – not easier – to remember the content.

For all these reasons, it seems, teachers might reasonably discourage students from taking photos.

At the same time, we should probably keep asking questions.

In particular, we should acknowledge that museum photography probably isn’t a good stand-in for classroom photography.

That is: my students (and teachers during PD) probably take photographs to help themselves remember important ideas, concepts, and examples. In museums, people might take pictures because that statue is so cool and beautiful!

The museum research offers a useful and interesting baseline, but we’d love some research into … say … actual classrooms.

Cheesemaking, and Beyond!

Well, I’ve got good news. A research team — led by Dr. Annie Ditta at the University of California, Riverside — has indeed started exploring exactly these questions.

In their studies, Team Ditta had students watch 3 short online video lectures about obscure topics. (Like, cheesemaking. No, I’m not joking.)

Participants took pictures of half of the slides.

Here’s the primary question: did students remember more information from the photographed slides, or the unphotographed slides?

SURPRISE! Taking pictures helped students remember the information on the slide.

For the reasons listed above, I did not expect that result. In fact, the researchers didn’t either.

But, those photos really helped.

In one study, students got 39% of the questions right for the slides they photographed, and 29% right for the ones they didn’t. (Stats folks: Cohen’s d was 0.41.)

Given how EASY this strategy is, we should really pay attention to this finding.

By the way, Dr. Ditta’s study explored some other questions as well.

First: students remembered info from photographed slides better both when they decided which slides to photograph and when they were told which ones to photograph.

So, if we tell students to “photograph this information,” we (probably) don’t disrupt the benefit.

Second: what about spoken information?

Common sense suggests that taking a picture won’t help remember spoken ideas (if those ideas aren’t written on the slide). In fact, taking that picture might distract students from the spoken words.

Strangely, in this research, Team Ditta came up with mixed – and surprising – results. In one study, taking a picture made no difference in memory of spoken material. In the other, it benefitted memory of spoken material.

WOW.

So, What Should Teachers Do?

Before we rush to apply research in our classrooms, we always want to ask a few questions.

In this case, I think we should have LOTS of questions.

First: Dr. Ditta’s research looked at brief, online lectures for college students.

Do these conclusions apply to longer classes? To in-person classes? For K-12 students? To students who aren’t neurotypical?

We just don’t (yet) know.

Second: participants in these studies didn’t do anything with the photos. They simply took them.

Would we find the same pattern for students who reviewed their photos, compared to – say – reviewing their notes?

We don’t (yet) know.

Third: participants were tested on their knowledge 5 minutes after the videos were done.

We’ve got LOTS of research showing that short-term gains don’t necessarily result in long-term learning.

So, would these findings hold a week later? A month later?

We don’t (yet) know.

 

Given all the things we don’t know, how can this research benefit us?

For me, these studies open up new possibilities.

In the past, as I described above, I permitted students (and teachers) to take photos. But I tried to discourage them.

I would even – on occasion – explain all the reasons above why I thought taking photos would reduce learning.

Well, I’m no longer going to discourage.

Instead, I’ll explain the complex possibilities.

Perhaps taking photos helps memory because it signals that THIS INFORMATION DESERVES ATTENTION.

Or, perhaps taking photos helps only if students DON’T review before tests. But, taking notes would help more … especially the students who DO review before tests.

And perhaps, just perhaps, this research team got flukey results because even well-done research sometimes produces flukey results. Future classroom research about taking photos of slides might ultimately suggest that (despite this thoughtful work), it really is a bad idea.

I wish the answer were simpler, but it just isn’t.

TL;DR

Surprising new research suggests that taking photos of lecture slides helps college students remember slide contents – even when students don’t review those photos.

Before we teachers rush to make dramatic changes, we should think carefully how this research fits our classrooms and contexts.

And, we should weigh this memory strategy against lots of other strategies – like retrieval practice.

Finally: let’s all watch this space!

Ditta, A. S., Soares, J. S., & Storm, B. C. (2022). What happens to memory for lecture content when students take photos of the lecture slides?. Journal of Applied Research in Memory and Cognition.

Soderstrom, N. C., & Bjork, R. A. (2015). Learning versus performance: An integrative review. Perspectives on Psychological Science, 10(2), 176-199.

 

It’s Funny (but It’s Not): Our Instincts about Learning are Often Badly Wrong
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson
October 25, 2022

It’s Funny (but It’s Not): Our Instincts about Learning are Often Badly Wrong

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Every now and then, research is just plain funny. Here’s the story:

If you’ve spent even a hot minute at a Learning and the Brain conference, you know that multitasking is not a thing.

When we undertake two cognitively demanding tasks “simultaneously,” we actually switch rapidly back and forth between them.

The result: we do worse at both.

That is: if you’re reading this blog post while listening to the news, you won’t understand or remember either very well. (That is: not as well as you would have done with each task separately.)

Where’s the funny?

In 2017, Shalena Srna published research about our perceptions of multitasking.

She found that we do better at activities when we think we’re multitasking than when we think we’re monotasking.

For instance, participants transcribed a video lecture about sharks.

Researchers told half of the participants that listening and transcribing are two different things, so they would be multitasking.

They told the other half that listening and transcribing are one thing, so they’re not multitasking.

Sure enough, the group that perceived transcription as multitasking transcribed more words, and remembered more content, than the group who perceived the same task as monotasking.

Amazing.

Srna’s team suspects that people who think they’re multitasking concentrate harder, and so do better.

Hence this paradox: people don’t multitask well, but we monotask better when we think we’re multitasking.

The Bigger Picture

So, what do we do with this comical finding?

On the one hand, I don’t think it has direct teaching implications. That is, we teachers should NOT pretend to our students that they’re multitasking so that they’ll monotask better. (Why not? Well, misleading students is usually a very bad idea…)

On the other hand, this study provides an important reminder:

Humans don’t intuitively understand how we think and learn.

We teachers (and we students) might just FEEL that a particular learning strategy works well for us. Sadly, those powerful feelings are often just plain wrong.

I can think of several research examples of this not-so-funny problem.

In 2009, Dr. Nate Kornell and Dr. Lisa Son published a study about retrieval practice.

Students learned some word pairs.

They practiced HALF of those words with simple review.

They practiced the OTHER HALF with retrieval practice.

Unsurprisingly (to the researchers — and to us), the students remembered more words after retrieval practice than after review. (About 6% more.)

Surprisingly, they PREDICTED that they would remember more words after the review. (About 7% more.)

That is: even thought they actually formed stronger memories after retrieval practice, they thought they formed stronger memories after another (less effective) strategy.

Why, because (say it with me):

Humans don’t intuitively understand how we think and learn.

Honestly, this insight is just bad news.

The Bigger Picture

Another study — actually a literature review — makes the same point more broadly.

Dr. Nick Soderstrom, working with Dr. Robert Bjork, reviewed research into short-term performance and long-term learning.

To summarize this ENORMOUS review, they found that teaching strategies which benefit short-term peformance do not consistently benefit long-term learning.

That is: imagine that I introduce a new topic in class, and give my students a quick low-stakes quiz at the end of that class. The strategies that boost class-end quizzes probably won’t help students learn well enough to demonstrate understanding on a later test.

They understood it today, but not long-term.

The Even Bigger Question: So What?

So far, these research findings have the whiff of humor.

Ain’t it funny that we monotask better when we think we’re multitasking? LOL.

In truth, this consistent finding — humans don’t intuitively understand how we think and learn — has important implications.

Here’s what I mean:

In theory, the field of Mind, Brain, and Education creates conversations among equals: psychology researchers, neuroscience researchers, and teachers/academic leaders.

In practice, this field often results in researchers telling teachers what to do.

I myself, in my own work, spent LOTS of time championing the voice of teachers.

We teachers can, should, MUST speak up for ourselves. Our experience — both individual and professional — matters in these conversations. We’re not here to obey; we’re here to share ideas for mutual benefit.

However, because “humans don’t intuitively understand how we think and learn,” we must speak up for our experience AND we must do so modestly.

We must do so with an open mind.

Yes, my experience tells me that teaching this way helps students learn.

But, my definition of “learn” is “do well on the class-end quiz.” Soderstrom shows us — very convincingly — that class-end quizzes don’t predict long-term learning and understanding. (Of course: “long-term learning and understanding” is my goal!)

Yes, my experience tells me that I can multitask! Alas, research shows I’m just monotasking efficiently.

My gut tells me that simple rereading results in more learning than retrieval practice. Alas, my gut is just plain old wrong.

In other words: we teachers should have a role in this Mind, Brain, Education conversation. To be most effective in that role — to merit that role — we must acknowledge the limitations of our insight, training and professional experience.

This balance is VERY DIFFICULT to get right. I hope we can talk more about finding a harmonious tension between speaking up and listening with humility and curiosity.

Kornell, N., & Son, L. K. (2009). Learners’ choices and beliefs about self-testing. Memory, 17(5), 493-501.

Soderstrom, N. C., & Bjork, R. A. (2015). Learning versus performance: An integrative review. Perspectives on Psychological Science, 10(2), 176-199.

Behind their Screens What Teens Are Facing (and Adults Are Missing) by Emily Weinstein and Carrie James
Erik Jahner, PhD
Erik Jahner, PhD
October 19, 2022

Behind their Screens What Teens Are Facing (and Adults Are Missing) by Emily Weinstein and Carrie James

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So, you think you know what effect social media has on teens? There is one problem: too much screen time. Many of us have very strong opinions like this mostly developed through poor media coverage of the research, but you will develop much a more nuanced, well-reasoned and balanced argument through this book that will have you carefully reevaluating what you think you know. In Behind their Screens What Teens Are Facing (and Adults Are Missing), Emily Weinstein and Carrie James discuss data gleaned from thousands of teen interviews as they tried to understand the relationship between teens and digital devices and platforms. Both authors are Harvard researchers and parents bringing to their writing the insights from both research and understanding of what it means to be a parent for teens today. The book is a very nice succinct and clear summary of the research done to date on the issue.

Teen lives today are highly politicized and sensationalized, and often media insights are presented as absolute truth. This book asks you to look at the research a bit more deeply and to ask important critical questions. You are not expected to accept the authors’ conclusions at face value, instead, they walk you through multiple interpretations, making sure you first know the right questions to ask. While the entirety of the text gives detail about the methods and motivations of the authors’ research, the appendix further explains their methods enabling practitioners and researchers alike to learn from the careful consideration Weinstein and James gave their design. In many ways, their research design itself shows us how to communicate with teens. Much of which involves simply giving them the space to speak but also knowing what potential responses a carefully constructed question will afford.

Grounded in Urie Bronfenbrenner’s ecological theory of human development, the teen develops a nested set of societal, social and biological systems. To understand social media practices, we need to examine teen relationships with not only peers but also parents and adults who seek to find solutions for teen behavior and perhaps put too much blame on social media.  We also need to respect their biological development, and how their neural circuitry sets them up to value rewards in different ways at different ages. The authors here are not simply trying to ask if social media impacts stress, anxiety, self-image, and depression in simple causal relationships; they put value in the context and the interaction of teen values and goals with digital practices. Skillfully, these authors managed to bring all of this complexity into a clear, informative, and entertaining read.

Individuality and variations in perspective are recurring themes in the text; teens are unique and complicated and there is no panacea that explains all relationships. They correctly point to individual variations in developmental trajectories for teens, the systematic variation in how teens interact with and internalize their relationships with the digital world. And, while always systematic, they remind us throughout that this is a complex system of relations that does not always have simple answers. Really, the best way to understand a teen is to listen.

The book covers a wide array of topics, and the authors do not shy away from the tough questions. Topics cover teen perspectives on politics, trading nudes, sexting, and teens’ understanding and concerns about their digital footprint. Through each of these topics, they ask not only what the impacts on teen wellness are but more importantly what are the reasons teens engage in these behaviors. What are the perceived benefits for teens and the social implications for engaging and not engaging?

Overall, the authors make a very clear case that we need to not simply tell teens how to use digital devices, offer them well-rehearsed sound bites, and beat them over the brow with restrictions, shaming, and warnings. While this may make us feel we have done our job this is not the more difficult work of trying to engage them in meaningful discussion where we all could learn something. We need to spend time with them, listen to them, and respect that they are engaging in digital behaviors for reasons: teens are not simply little adults; their motivations and experiences differ from ours. Our responsibility is to better understand those reasons and be there to help them write the stories that will empower them in their own development.

Test Anxiety: How and When Does It Harm Students?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson
October 16, 2022

Test Anxiety: How and When Does It Harm Students?

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When our students learn, we naturally want them to show us what they’ve learned.

Most schools rely, in varying degrees, on tests. The logic seems simple: if students know something, they can demonstrate their knowledge on this quiz, or test, or exam.

But, what about students who feel test anxiety?

These students might learn the material, but not be able to show what they’ve learned — at least, not as well.

The idea of test anxiety has been around for decades, and a significant pool of research suggests it correlates with measurably lower test grades.

How do we fix the problem?

Step 1: Defining the Problem

As always, we can’t really fix a problem until we understand the problem.

When we consider test anxiety, the explanation seems entirely straightforward.

Most students feel some degree of stress during tests. That’s normal, and can be helpful.

Some students, however, feel unhelpfully high levels of stress during tests. Distracted by sweaty palms and intrusive thoughts, they don’t concentrate on the cognitive task at hand.

In short: test anxiety harms the student during the test. Teachers can help students by reducing their stress in the moment. (Yes, we have lots of strategies to do so — see below.)

But wait!

What it that theory isn’t true? What if test anxiety muddles cognitive performance at some other time? If that’s true, then our “in-the-moment” strategies won’t help — or, won’t help enough.

Intriguing Hypothesis

How would we test this unsettling question?

A group of researchers in Germany discovered a thoughtful strategy.

Medical students in Germany spend lots of time (like, say, months) preparing for a high-stakes final exam.

Dr. Maria Theobald worked with over 300 of these students, who used an online learning platform to study. On this platform, these students…

… practiced problems from previous exams, and

… took five practice tests.

She also measured their test anxiety in two ways.

First, she measured their overall test anxiety, with a standard questionnaire.

Second, she measured their day-to-day test anxiety, rating their “tension about the upcoming study day” on a 1-5 scale.

And, of course, she measured lots of other things. (Spoiler alert: Theobald measured students’ working memory — a detail that will be important later.)

What happens when these researchers put all these pieces together?

Surprising Results

Here are the headlines:

Test anxiety does not harm students’ exam performance in the moment.

Instead, it does harm their performance during the preparation for the exam.

Why does Theobald reach this conclusion?

If test anxiety harms students in the moment, then these students should do worse on the FINAL TEST than they did on the PRACTICE PROBLEMS and the PRACTICE TESTS.

Imagine that a student averaged an 85 on practice problems and an 84 on practice tests, but score a 75 on the final test. We would say:

“Something strange happened.

It looks like anxiety prevented students from demonstrating the knowledge they obviously have. (They obviously have it because they scored so well on the practice problems/tests).”

Theobald’s data, however, did not fit that pattern at all.

Instead, anxious students made less progress during the months of study BEFORE the test. And, their final test score was right in line with that earlier (lower) performance.

That is: anxious students scored 75 on the practice problems and practice tests … and then a 75 on the final exam as well. (These numbers are examples, not real data.)

So, we find ourselves saying:

“Hmm. These anxious students scored consistently lower than their peers — both on the final test and on the months of practice work they did.

Their anxiety didn’t lower their final score in the moment. It interfered with their learning trajectory as they prepared for the final test.”

Reader: I did not expect these results.

What Should Teachers Do?

First, we should — in my view — continue with stress reduction strategies in the moment.

We’ve got evidence that letting students vent their stress improves exam performance. And we’ve got evidence that helping students reframe stress as positive (“I’m excited!”) helps as well.

So, I wouldn’t give up on these pre-test strategies just yet.

Second, this research encourages us to take the long view. “In the moment” strategies might help some, but longer-term strategies now sound more urgent.

Because Theobald’s research is so new, I haven’t seen any responses to it — much less research based suggestions.

But I think of “values affirmation” as one potential (let me repeat: “potential”) way to reduce this kind of test anxiety.

I’ll be keeping my eye out for others. If you hear of a promising one, I hope you’ll let me know.

Potential Limitations

First: an important limitation.

All research studies include limitations, so it’s no criticism to say this study does too.

Specifically, this research was done with students completing medical school. That is: they (probably) have been highly academically successful for decades. They (probably) bring higher levels of motivation than many students.

And, their test-anxiety profile might not match those of my students, or of yours.

Until these findings are replicated in other students populations (and cultural contexts), I would rely on professional experience to adapt them to our own settings.

Second: an important non-limitation.

I noted above that Theobald measured students’ working memory. (Long-time readers know: I’m obsessed with working memory.)

This research team speculated — plausibly — that working memory capacity might mitigate the effects of test anxiety.

That is: students with more cognitive space to think might feel less distracted by anxious thoughts.

However, their data did not support that hypothesis. Students with high working memory are just as troubled by test anxiety as those with lower working memory.

TL;DR

In this study with German medical students, test anxiety interferes NOT with student performance on the final test, but with their learning before the test.

If further studies support this conclusion, we should refocus our work on helping those students during the weeks and months before the test itself.

Theobald, M., Breitwieser, J., & Brod, G. (2022). Test Anxiety Does Not Predict Exam Performance When Knowledge Is Controlled For: Strong Evidence Against the Interference Hypothesis of Test Anxiety. Psychological Science, 09567976221119391.

Does Mindfulness Help? A Blockbuster New Study
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson
October 09, 2022

Does Mindfulness Help? A Blockbuster New Study

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Few ideas in education sound better than mindfulness.

If mindfulness programs work as intended, teachers and schools can help students center their attention and lower their stress.

We’ve got suggestive research indicating that, when done properly, such programs can improve wellbeing.

Perhaps they can even helps students learn more. (We school people really like research that helps students learn more.)

What’s not to love?

Not Feeling the Love; Really Feeling the Love

Although I’ve linked to suggestive research above, this field does have a research problem.

Most mindfulness studies include relatively few people.

And, their study designs aren’t often persuasive. (The topic of “study design” gets technical quickly. The simplest version is: to say that “research shows this” convincingly, a study needs to check A LOT of boxes. Not many mindfulness studies do.)

So, we’d love a study with LOTS of people. And, we’d like a really good study design.

So, how about:

A study with 8,000 students.

In 85 schools.

Lasting over two years.

With a pre-registered study design.

In this study, researchers paired similar schools: for example, two large schools, located in Wales, with similar socio-economic makeup, and so forth.

One school in that pair got a 10-week curriculum in School Based Mindfulness Training. School teachers ran these sessions, which included mindfulness exercises and home practice and so forth.

The other school in the pair continued the SEL work that they were doing. (Researchers evaluated the extant SEL programs to ensure they were good quality.)

So: did the Mindfulness training benefit students more that ongoing SEL work?

What Researchers Measured; What They Found

This research team measured three primary outcomes: risk for depression, social-emotional functioning (with a “Strengths and Difficulties Questionnaire”), and well-being.

And, believe it or not, they measure twenty-eight secondary outcomes: executive function, drug and alcohol use, anxiety, and so forth.

Did the students who got the mindfulness training show statistically significant differences compared to those who got the “teaching as usual” SEL training?

The researchers themselves had been optimistic. In the reserved language of research, they write:

Our premise was that skills in attention and social-emotional-behavioral self-regulation underpin mental health and well-being across the full spectrum of well being.

“Skills in attention and social-emotional-behavioral self-regulation” sounds A LOT like mindfulness, doesn’t it?

Their review of earlier research, and their own pilot study, showed a “promise of effectiveness.” But, they designed and ran this 2-year-8000-student study to be sure.

What did they find?

Basically, nothing.

They write that they “found no evidence that [school based mindfulness training] was superior to [teaching as usual]” one year after the training was over.

In the primary outcomes, they found no differences for depression, well-being, and social-emotional function.

In the secondary outcomes, in fact, they found students in the mindfulness group had slightly worse results in five categories:

… higher levels of self-reported hyperactivity and inattention,

… higher panic disorder and obsessive-compulsive scores,

… lower levels of mindfulness skills.

And so forth.

These differences weren’t large, but they certainly don’t suggest that mindfulness training is better that other SEL programs.

Remaining Questions

Any study including 8000+ people, and measuring 30+ variables (!), will result in LOTS of details, and lots of questions about methodology.

These points jump out at me:

First: these researchers have done an impressively thorough job.

Reasonable people will push back on their findings. But this research team has obviously taken extraordinary care, and provided an immense amount of information for others to examine. (Check out their website.)

Second: I’ve traditionally been skeptical of “teaching as usual” control groups. Here’s why:

Some teachers got a shiny new thing: mindfulness training! Other teachers got nothing: the SEL curriculum they’ve been doing all along.

I’m rarely surprised when the new thing produces better results — it’s new!

However, in this case, the new thing DIDN’T produce better results. The results, basically, were identical.

So, my typical objection doesn’t really apply here.

Third: although 43 schools added mindfulness programs, more than half of them continued with the SEL training they were already doing.

That is, we’re not exactly comparing mindfulness to other SEL approaches. Some schools did only mindfulness; others did only SEL; others offered a blend of both.

Would the mindfulness programs produce better results if they replaced the SEL programs rather than combined with them? We don’t know.

Fourth: Why didn’t the mindfulness programs help?

On reason might be: most students just didn’t do the mindfulness exercises consistently.

On a 0-5 scale, students on average rated their mindfulness practice as 0.83. As in, less than 1. As in, they simply didn’t practice much mindfulness.

If I don’t take my migraine medication, it won’t help reduce my migraines. If I don’t do my mindfulness exercises, I’m unlikely to get the benefits of mindfulness.

Would these programs work if they took place in school, so students practiced more mindfulness? We don’t know.

TL;DR

This well designed study — including more than 8000 participants — strongly suggests that mindfulness training doesn’t produce more (or fewer) benefits than other SEL approaches.

This research doesn’t suggest we must cancel the programs we have. However, it pushes back against the argument that mindfulness provides distinct advantages, and that all responsible schools must adopt such programs immediately.

As long a schools tend responsibly to their students’ social-emotional needs, a variety of approaches can work equally well.

Kuyken, W., Ball, S., Crane, C., Ganguli, P., Jones, B., Montero-Marin, J., … & MYRIAD Team. (2022). Effectiveness and cost-effectiveness of universal school-based mindfulness training compared with normal school provision in reducing risk of mental health problems and promoting well-being in adolescence: the MYRIAD cluster randomised controlled trial. Evidence-based mental health, 25(3), 99-109.

The Unexpected Problem with Learning Styles Theory
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson
October 02, 2022

The Unexpected Problem with Learning Styles Theory

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I recently read a much-liked Twitter post that said (I’m paraphrasing here):

If you try to debunk Learning Styles Theory and you face unexpected resistance, start looking for the profit motive.

Hmmm.

To be clear: learning styles theory just doesn’t have plausible research support.

If and when we can debunk it, we certainly should.

But, in my own experience at least, teachers who believe the theory often do so with the best of motives.

Mocking those motives — or, even worse, implying believers have wicked motives — seems unfair. And, likely to prove counterproductive.

Yes, grifters exist. Yes, we should call them out. But most teachers who offer “unexpected resistance” can explain why — for reasons that have nothing to do with profits. (Honestly, if teachers were driven by profits, would we have joined this profession?)

Surface Plausibility

In the first place, MANY teachers learned about Learning Styles Theory in their education programs.

In fact, Blake Harvard — “The Effortful Educator” — searched the websites of 9 major schools of education, and found that MOST referenced Learning Styles Theory positively.

Can we be surprised that teachers believe what their professors teach them?

Equally important, this theory seems to align with much of our classroom experience.

After all, daily classroom life suggests that students learn differently. Some students respond well to this approach, while others need another approach entirely.

So, it seems that Learning Styles Theory (helpfully?) explains these differences, and (helpfully?) suggests a coherent way to respond to them.

Why wouldn’t teachers believe a theory that a) we learned in graduate school, and b) aligns with our daily experience?

Getting Personal

In fact, “unexpected resistance” to Learning Styles Theory often stems from an even deeper source.

Many dedicated teachers have been relying on it for years. Often, their self-definition as a good and caring teachers begins with or includes their fidelity to this theory:

“My students know I care about them because I tailor my instruction to their learning style!“

When we tell teachers that we simply have no evidence to support the theory (and, to be clear, we don’t), we’re not simply asking them to change what they do and believe.

Instead, we are — in effect — asking them to admit their their exemplary teaching practice was (at best) useless, and (possibly) detrimental. FOR YEARS.

That admission, of course, is incredibly painful and troubling.

For us to mock teachers (“look for the profit motive!”) for this painful struggle … well, I simply don’t understand how that approach will help. I can’t remember the last time that mockery helped me change my teaching practice for the better.

Plausible Alternatives

If we shouldn’t accuse people of being charlatans (hint: I think we mostly shouldn’t), how should we contradict these misbeliefs?

As I’ve written before, I do think this is a very difficult problem.

We really should contradict those false beliefs, but I’m not at all sure that doing so encourages people to adopt new ones.

My current approach relies on these steps.

First: rather that asking teachers to stop believing one thing, I encourage them to start thinking about something else.

My hopeful theory: the more time they’re thinking about, say, working memory, the less time they’re thinking about Learning Styles Theory.

Second: I don’t contradict in public. I try to chat with believers one-on-one.

Honestly, this approach includes perils. If I don’t contradict in public, others might believe that theory does have merit.

However, as noted above, I think increasing shame reduces the likelihood that new advice will stick.

Third: I provide research, and ask lots of genuinely curious questions.

I hope that peer-to-peer curiosity will ultimately change more minds than more confrontational strategies.

 

To be clear, I’m not certain that my approach has more merit than others. I certainly have no research suggesting that it will work.

But experience tell me that “supportive listening” beats “questioning motives” as a motivational approach.

If you’ve got suggestions and strategies, please share them!