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A Smartphone Has, and Is, a Mirror Function
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

A recently published study looks at the role that ADULTS play in their children’s phone use.

In this post, I want to outline the study’s findings, and then consider their broader implications for schools and teachers.

The Study

In this recent study, led by Jason Nagata, researchers studied survey data from over 10,000 (yes, ten THOUSAND) adolescents. They looked for connections between “media parenting practices” and adolescent behavior.

So: if the family use cellphones at the dinner table, does that practice have an effect on — say — problems with school work.

Because we’re asking so many questions from so many people (10,000!), the researchers find A LOT of associations. (By the way, because these are survey data, we might be skeptical about the answers we get.)

Rather than go through each finding, I’ll highlight just a few:

  • An increase in cellphone usage at meals correlates with an increase in “problematic” social media behavior…
  • …and “problematic” video game behavior.
  • Ditto: an increase in cellphone usage in the child’s bedroom.
  • When parents reward or punish by allowing/restricting media usage, this practice correlates with increase in “problematic” video game usage.

This list could go on (and include dozens of caveats), but those headlines captured my attention.

In brief: if we’re worried about perils of technology usage, the cellphone might not be the best place to focus our efforts. Instead, the parents might be a good place to focus.

The Bigger Picture

Of course, this blog doesn’t focus on parenting. This study, instead, promted me to consider other questions:

Because the “should we ban cellphones in schools” debate runs so hot, it resists a nuanced conversation.

A baby wearing a suit with a "binkie" in his mouth, hoding and staring at a cellphone

I want to use this study to approach that debate from a slightly different angle.

As I read the case for banning cellphones, it typically includes the phrase “kids these days.” Sometimes directly, often indirectly, the argument implies that students themselves deserve the blame for their cellphone use.

I want to argue against that implication, for two reasons. (And then one more reason.)

First: for the most part, students do not buy themselves cellphones. Adults buy children cellphones. And we buy them the carrier plans and tchotchkes that go with them.

In other words, the public lament often sounds to me like this:

“How strange and terrible that children use the objects we bought them!”

If we don’t want our children to use an object, we don’t have to make them available.

(I understand that there’s a safety argument: “children need phones in case of emergency.” I also understand there are MANY ways to allow for emergency communication without smartphones. I’m looking at you, flip phone.)

This study described above helpfully highlights this point. If adults conjure up a problem, we should not turn around and criticize children for participating in it.

Resisting Temptation

The first reason not to blame children: adults probably bought them the smartphones.

The second reason not to blame children: everyone involved in the smartphone industry makes them as tempting as possible.

For instance: if I create video games for a living, I’m not bothered that children play my game during their classes — I’m DELIGHTED.

Presumably that kind of obsessive devotion means that the game will go, or has gone, viral.

Presumably I’ll get rich.

Heck, I might even reach the pinnacle of social success; I could become an influencer.

To expand on the point made above, the public lament often sounds to me like this:

“How strange and terrible that children use the objects that an  entire industry of experts has made as tempting and enjoyable as possible!”

If we don’t want our children to use a super fun object, we don’t have to make them available. *

And One More

I wrote above that we’ve got at least two reasons to spend less time blaming children for their cellphone use. I’d like to add one further reason.

(I should say: I am, at this moment, skating out on VERY thin ice. I hope you won’t be too upset with me.)

I’ve spent the last 12 years of my life leading PD workshops for teachers: workshops about cognitive science research, and the uses of that research in day-to-day teaching.

I have A LOT of anecdotal data about teachers in groups.

My biggest concern during these sessions is NOT “resistent behavior.” I almost never have grumpy teachers tell me to get off their lawn. Teachers typically react with great enthusiasm when they get to talk about a cog-sci approach to teaching.

My biggest challenge is: cellphones.

Many teachers simply won’t put them down.

Many school administrators simply won’t put them down.

Honestly: a PD talk sometimes feels like that screen-obsessed scene from WALL-E.

Here’s my point: it strikes me as arresting for teachers to be so angry at students for doing precisely what we’re doing.

To expand (once again) on the point made above, the public lament often sounds to me like this:

“How strange and terrible that students use their phones in the same way that we teachers do!”

If we don’t want our students to use smart phones, we should model the restraint we expect.

More important: the DIFFICULTY we have modeling that restraint holds up an unwelcome mirror. Every time I send a text during a faculty meeting, I should acknowledge my participation in the very cultural habit that I decry.

Solution, Please?

You might reasonably ask me: “if everything you’ve written is true, what should my school do about smartphones?”

That’s an entirely reasonable question. I have a tentative answer, and a confident answer.

Tentatively:

I see almost no upside to studets’ having and using phones during class; I see LOTS of downsides.

For that reason, I think that in most cases, schools should do everything they reasonably can to limit or prevent cellphones from being out during class.

I suspect — but don’t know — that most schools would benefit from a substantial ban on cellphone use during the day on campus. Students will talk with each other more if they’re texting each other less.

Confidently:

I think a school’s cellphone policy should include teachers’/adults’ cellphone use as well.

Of course: a school’s relationship with a teacher differs from its relationship with a student. But: teachers’ cellphone usage can absolutely undermine our authority to insist on students’ abstinence.

The phone is a mirror. It both communicates with others, and shows us more about ourselves. We ought to look into that discomforting mirror.


* Important note: I made this entire argument without using the word “addicted.” As I’ve written elsewhere, we cannot currently claim that “cellphones are addictive.” That’s a lively research-based debate, not a settled conclusion.


Nagata, J. M., Paul, A., Yen, F., Smith-Russack, Z., Shao, I. Y., Al-Shoaibi, A. A., … & Baker, F. C. (2024). Associations between media parenting practices and early adolescent screen use. Pediatric Research, 1-8.

Hidden Brilliance by Lynn Kern Koegel & Claire LaZebnik
Erik Jahner, PhD
Erik Jahner, PhD

brillianceAs parents and educators, we often find ourselves trying to mold children into the expectations of what is “normal.” We fight the wind and we often break a few of our branches in the process. But what if the behaviors we struggle to understand aren’t problems to be fixed, but rather the key to unlocking their unique brilliance? In Hidden Brilliance: Unlocking the Intelligence of Autism, Dr. Lynn Kern Koegel and Claire LaZebnik challenge us to shift our deficit perspective and recognize the untapped potential in children with autism. The authors are not presenting some miracle or hidden jewel, instead, the authors suggest that their strengths are under our noses but we just don’t notice them because we are focused on their lack of fit to our traditional expectations. Dr. Koegel, an expert in autism research, and LaZebnik, a skilled storyteller, combine their expertise to present a deeply insightful book. They emphasize that too often, outdated mindsets, inadequate training, and rigid reliance on standardized testing prevent us from truly seeing the capabilities of children with autism. The authors argue that instead of trying to make neurodivergent children fit into neurotypical molds, we should celebrate and develop their unique strengths, whether it’s extraordinary memory, mathematical skills, artistic talents, or attention to detail. Not every child is going to be judged as extraordinary, but when we emphasize a misfit with tradition we dismiss the innovative perspective and divergent way of thinking that could lead to their success.

The book’s strength is its down-to-earth approach. It’s filled with concise touching, real-life stories of kids who initially struggled with behaviors that seemed disruptive or defiant. Through these narratives, Koegel and LaZebnik show how a shift in perspective can turn frustrating situations into moments of connection and even humor. Perhaps even a game of tic-tac-toe could lead to defiance and exhausting battles about rules or lead to self-discovery and laughter? For parents and teachers, these stories are relatable and inspiring, helping us see how we, too, can foster a more supportive environment for the children in our lives. The authors go beyond theory, offering practical strategies for working with children on the autism spectrum. From improving communication to addressing behaviors often labeled as “disruptive,” the book gives clear, actionable steps. Whether you’re trying to advocate for your child in the school system, find less frustrating ways for them to express themselves, or build a home environment that encourages joy and learning, there are valuable insights here.

By leveraging these strengths, children can experience more success in academics, social interactions, and personal development. The book highlights how this approach can significantly improve a child’s confidence and sense of self-worth. These approaches increase motivation, naturally emerging engagement, and drive. It also provides guidance on creating individualized learning goals that align with a child’s natural talents, helping them not only adapt to the world but thrive in it. Help them make their own path not conform to paths set by others.

One of the most refreshing aspects of Hidden Brilliance is its optimism. It recognizes the challenges that parents and teachers face, but it also advocates for a hopeful and proactive outlook. Rather than focusing on the unknowns of the future, the book encourages us to celebrate the many small victories and stay open to the possibilities of growth and connection. The book resonates deeply with those who have ever felt their child’s potential was overlooked or misunderstood by traditional systems. It empowers parents to trust their instincts and see beyond labels while offering teachers strategies to support each child’s journey toward fulfilling their unique potential.

Overall, Hidden Brilliance is a must-read for parents, teachers, and anyone working with children on the autism spectrum. But … it is also a great guide for parents of all children: there is no “normal” child that conforms to society. Help them find their way, give them feedback that helps them grow not stifles them. This guide looks beyond surface behaviors helping you discover the incredible talents that children with autism possess. With its mix of heartwarming stories and practical advice, it offers a fresh, hopeful approach to understanding autism. Above all, this book reminds us that by embracing a child’s individual brilliance, we can help them shine in a world that too often overlooks their light.

Again with the Questions (Second of a Series)
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Three weeks ago, I started a short series of blog posts about asking questions.

After all, we’ve got SO MUCH RESEARCH about questions, we need to keep track and make sense of it all.

To structure these posts, I’ve been focusing on these three topics:

When to ask a particular kind of question?

Who benefits most immediately from doing so?

What do we do with the answers?

So, for questions that we ask BEFORE learning starts (“before” is the “when”):

Teachers check our students’ prior knowledge for our own benefit; now we know how best to plan an upcoming unit.

and

We ask “prequestions” for students’ benefit; it turns out that — even though students don’t know the answers to prequestions — they benefit from trying to answer them.

So: here’s the next “when”…

DURING Class

We’ve explored the questions to ask BEFORE students start learning (prior knowledge, “prequestions”).

What about DURING the learning process?

Two students raising their hands and laughing as they look at each other

Here again, I think we’ve got two essential categories. Importantly, we should plan and think about these questions differently.

Firstchecking for understanding.

Of course, we want our students to understand the ideas and processes that we’re discussing in class today. Alas, “understanding” happens invisibly, inside our students’ minds.

The only way to ensure that they understand: ask them questions. Their answers will make that invisible understanding visible — or, perhaps, audible.

When checking for understanding, we should keep some key principles in mind:

We should check for understanding frequently throughout a lesson. The correct number of times will vary depending on context. As a high school teacher, I rarely go more than seven or eight minutes without some kind of check.

As Doug Lemov says: “reject self report.” Our students don’t understand today’s topic well enough to know whether or not they understand — so it NEVER helps to ask students “got it?”

Be sure that everyone answers the checking-for-understanding questions. Whether we use mini-whiteboards or cold calling or quizlet, we want as broad a sample as possible of our students before we move on to the next step of the topic.

We should ask tricky questions, but not trick questions. That is: the questions should be difficult enough to ensure that students genuinely understand the topic (that’s “tricky”), but we’re not trying to fool them (“trick”).

Of course, wise thinkers have LOTS more to say about checking for understanding, but these few principles give us a strong start.

Important Distinctions

So, “who benefits” from checking for understanding? And: “what do we do with the answers”?

Roughly speaking, the teacher benefits from checking for understanding. If I C4U and discover that my students DO understand, I know:

a) that my teaching method for those several minutes worked as I had hoped, and

b) that I can continue the lesson.

If my students DON’T understand, I know:

a) it didn’t, and

b) I shouldn’t.

In other words: checking for understanding provides useful feedback to the teacher.

What should I do with the answers to these questions?

The right and wrong answers I see/hear will guide me as I decide what to do next.

If, for instance, my students answer a question about direct objects incorrectly, I might not provide the correct answer right away. But I will draw on that feedback when I think about revising my lesson plan for the next 10 minutes.

During Class, Part 2

Of course, not all in-class questions focus on checking for understanding new material. I might — in fact, I should — devote some class time to reviewing and consolidating ideas that students have already learned.

To meet this goal, I will almost certainly rely on retrieval practice.

This blog has written EXTENSIVELY about retrieval practice, so I won’t do a deep dive here. You can check out previous posts, or savor this awesome website.

The headline is: students learn more not by reviewing material but by actively trying to retrieve it.

Rather than say: “Remember, the Ideal Gas Law says that pv=nrt.”

I should say

“Okay, please try to remember the Ideal Gas Law. Don’t should out; I’ll ask you to write it on your mini-whiteboards in a moment.”

We’ve got heaps o’ research showing that the extra mental effort required by retrieval helps consolidate memories.

Notice; I’m NOT trying to see if students have an initial understanding. When I taught this concept last week, I checked for understanding. My students DID understand it.

Instead, I’m trying to consolidate the understanding they had back then.

Important Distinctions

Once again: “who benefits” from retrieval practice? And: “what do we do with the answers”?

Whereas I, the teacher, benefit from  checking for understanding, MY STUDENTS benefit from retrieval practice. That mental effort helps them consolidate and transfer the ideas they retrieved.

(Of course, I do get useful feedback about the stickiness of their prior learning, but that’s not the primary goal of RP.)

What should I do with the answers? Especially wrong answers?

This question leads to a surprisingly intricate answer. The short version goes like this:

If I have time, it’s helpful to correct wrong answers to retrieval practice questions ASAP.

I should do so ESPECIALLY if the question touches on an important core idea or procedure.

But:

Students get the benefit of retrieval practice even if they get the answer wrong. As long as they come across the correct answer eventually, they’ll benefit.

This topic gets nuanced quickly, but the headline is: wrong answers aren’t tragedies in retrieval-practice world.

To Sum Up

We ask students questions BEFORE learning; we take stock of their prior knowledge, and seed future learning with prequestions.

DURING class, we frequently check for understanding to ensure that current learning is happening as we hoped.

And we ask retrieval practice questions about ideas and procedures learned before, in order to help them consolidate that learning.

If we understand the differences among the purpose for and response to these questions, we will use them more effectively.

The Great Exam Debate: A Conversation with a Colleague
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

A colleague recently reached out to ask me about research into the benefits and perils of final exams in high school. Her question inspired a fun exploration of research on the topic; I thought it would be helpful to share both our conclusions and our process with you.

A hand holding a pencil filling out answers on a stardardized test

Before I dig into our discussion, it might be helpful to pause and ask yourself this question: “do I already have a firm opinion about final exams?”

That is: do you believe that exams provide much-needed accountability and a chance for meaningful accomplishment? Do you believe they subtract valuable instruction time and add needless academic stress? Your prior beliefs will shape the way you read the upcoming post, so you’ll probably learn more if you recognize your own preconceptions.

With this first step in place, let’s explore…

Not as Easy as it Looks

Our conversation started with a frank admission: it would be INCREDIBLY difficult to investigate this question directly.

To do so, we’d need to teach two identical courses – one of which does have a final exam, and the other of which does not.

This proposal, however, quickly becomes impossible.

Let’s say that one section of my English class has a cumulative final exam, and the other has a cumulative final project. The differences between an exam and a project require all sorts of other changes to the course…so the two experiences wouldn’t be similar enough to compare as apples and apples.

Almost any other attempt to answer questions about final exams directly leads to similar problems.

This realization might discourage those of us who regularly turn to research. At the same time, it forces us to rethink our question quite usefully.

Instead of asking:

“Are final exams good or bad?”

We can ask:

“When we think about a year-long learning experience, how can we conclude those months most helpfully? What set of cognitive experiences consolidates learning most effectively? And: how does the answer to that question depend on the specific context of my school?”

With that framework in mind, let’s get started…

Old Friends

Longtime readers know that I rely on several websites to launch my research journeys. In this case, my colleague and I started at elicit.org. I put in this question:

“Do final exams in high school benefit or harm learning?”

The results from this search highlight the complexity of the question.

This paper by Khanna et al argues that cumulative final exams benefit students more than non-cumulative exams; these benefits appear both in the short term – immediately after the exam – and up to 18 months later. (Technically speaking, 18 months is a LONG TIME.)

When I checked out that study on my two other go-to websites (connectedpapers.com, scite.ai), I found other papers that, roughly speaking, arrived at the same conclusion. Strikingly, those other papers suggested that cumulative exams especially benefit either struggling students, or students with less prior knowledge.

On the other hand, back at my elicit.org search, this study by Holme et al produces this bleak conclusion:

“High school exit exams have produced few expected benefits and been associated with costs for disadvantaged students.”

A quick search on connectedpapers.com finds that – sure enough – other researchers have reached roughly similar conclusions.

“Promising Principles”

As expected, our review of existing research shows the difficulty of answering this final-exam question directly.

So, let’s try a different strategy: returning to our reformulated question:

“When we think about a year-long learning experience, how can we conclude those months most helpfully? What set of cognitive experiences consolidates learning most effectively?”

Two Learning and the Brain stalwarts – David Daniel and John Almarode – often invite teachers to think about cognitive science not as rules to obey (“do this”), but as “promising principles” that guide our work (“think about this, then decide what to do”).

So: do we have any promising principles that might guide our question about final exams? Indeed we do!

This blog has written about spacing, interleaving, and retrieval practice so often that there’s no need to rehash those ideas in this post. And, it’s easy to see how to apply these promising principles to cumulative final exams. After all, such exams…

… almost REQUIRE spacing,

… almost REQUIRE interleaving,

… create MANY opportunities for retrieval practice.

Of course, almost anything can be done badly – and preparation for final exams is no exception. But – done well – final exams invite exactly the kind of desirable difficulty that cognitive science champions.

Slam Dunk?

Perhaps, then, we have answered my colleague’s question: schools should—no, schools MUST—use cumulative final exams to enact cognitive science principles.

…Insert sound of record scratch…

That statement overlooks the second part of the revised question above:

“What set of cognitive experiences consolidates learning most effectively? And: how does the answer to that question depend on the specific context of my school?”

In this case, my colleague works at a school that champions a progressive educational philosophy. In other words, final exams sound like a terrible idea.

Her school has long favored cumulative capstone projects. And even a cursory discussion makes it clear that such projects – like cumulative final exams – invite spacing, interleaving, and retrieval.

(Yes, yes: capstone projects can be designed very badly. So can final exams. Both can also be done well.)

As long as those capstone projects deliberately and thoughtfully enact all those promising desirably difficult principles, they too can consolidate a year’s worth of learning.

TL; DR

My collegial conversation suggests that cognitive science research neither forbids nor requires final exams.

Instead, that research gives us ways to think about the summary work that we do with students. We can adapt these promising principles to align with our own school philosophy. That conceptual combination – more than a specific research study – will guide us most wisely.

Do Gestures Improve Learning? Baby Steps Toward a Conclusion
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

The idea that “gestures improve learning” has be increasingly popular in recent years. I first heard about this idea from Dr. Susan Goldin-Meadow at a Learning and the Brain conference back in 2015, and the claim has gotten more emphatic with every passing year.

Drawings of men and women making a variety of hand gestures

This emphasis on gesture — within the broader field of “embodied cognition” — is approaching certainty in the field.

As is so often the case, I myself am less confident than others about many of these claims.

In this post, I want to

  • Explain my concerns about the “gestures promote learning” claims
  • Explore a recent study that pushes back against my concerns, and
  • Highlight the features of that study that support my concerns.

In other words: we’re taking baby steps here. This study that I’ll explain does offer modest support to this claim — and offers some useful specifics.

But it certainly does not make the “gestures promote learning” a slam dunk. And it flatly contradicts some of the most vehement statements you’ll hear when people champion embodied cognition and gestures.

Initial Concerns

I am certainly open to the idea that gestures might promote learning. No, honestly: it could be true!

At the same time, I want to

  • understand the SPECIFICS of that claim, and
  • have confidence in the research that supports them.

These requests feel reasonable to me.

So, specifically:

Who is making the gesture? The teacher? The learner? Both? A video?

Does some kind of learning get more benefit from gestures than others?

For example, I know how I could use a gesture to reinforce the word “hatchet.” (A hatchet gesture is easy to envisage.)

But: how would I make a gesture to help students learn “protagonist” and “antagonist”? Or, “pleistocene”? Or “tradition”?

What if students learn the same gesture in two different classes? Say: the “hatchet” gesture means “hatchet” in my Spanish class but “guillotine” in my history class.

Do gestures help students of all ages? Are there cultural differences?

In other words: what are the rules to govern the creation and use of gestures? And: what research supports each specific component?

Last year, I wrote about a study that starts answering some of these questions. But: we’ve got a long way to go.

Frankly, the questions listed above fit quite nicely under the heading of “boundary conditions”: we need to know the “boundaries” within which teaching suggestions work, and outside of which they don’t. I don’t quite understand why people look vexed when I ask such questions.

A Recent Study Strengthens the Case

Because I have outlier views on this topic, I’m always on the lookout for research that will change my mind.

Recently, I came across a study from 2021 that offers lots of helpful information.

This study does, in fact, give me some increased confidence in the ideas that gestures can help. And, it offers helpful specifics about ways that gestures MIGHT NOT help. That is: it clarifies those boundary conditions.

This research has LOTS of moving parts, so I’ll try to summarize it accurately and briskly.

Twenty-two German adults spent 4 days studying foreign language vocabulary.

Specifically, they learned 90 word pairs: a word in German, and its “translation” in a made-up language called “Vimmi.” (Researchers used made-up words so that the participants’ prior knowledge wouldn’t muddle their results.)

45 of those word pairs were accompanied by a gesture. (The participants saw someone making the gesture; and they also made the gesture themselves.)

The other 45 pairs were accompanied by a drawing of the word; in other words, not a gesture.

This group of non-gesture word pairs gives the researchers a useful comparison point. They can ask not just “did gestures helps participants learn?,” but “did the gestures help compared to the pictures?”

Now things get REALLY interesting.

Researchers then used a fancy gizmo to DISRUPT NEURAL PROCESSING in a part of the brain that coordinates gestures.

Specifically, several days after participants learned the word-pairs, researchers asked participants to recall them out loud. While participants did so, researchers used the (perfectly safe) neuro-scrambler for half of the words; they then faked the neuro-scrambling for the other half of the words. The participants, in other words, didn’t know when the scrambler was on or off.

Let’s add two more cool variables — variables that help answer my pesky questions:

Researchers tested participants five days and five months later. So: they could see how long these effects lasted.

And, they also tested two kinds of words: concrete nouns (“window”) and abstract nouns (“benefaction”).

Based on all these moving pieces, you can see that this study might finally convince me that gestures help — or give us some ideas about boundary conditions.

Yup: (Some) Gestures Help (Some) Learning (Somewhat)

When researchers tested the participants five days later, they found that seeing and producing gestures helped participants learn concrete nouns.

Specifically, the neuro-scrambler (presumably) reduced the neural encoding of the gestures for half of the words. And participants took longer to remember those words than the un-scrambled ones.

The likeliest interpretation: part of the memory of the word pair had been encoded in the motor cortex. When we interfere with that part of the memory, we interfere with the memory overall.

So, even though I’m naturally cautious about such things, I’m comfortable saying:

“This research supports the idea that seeing and making gestures about concrete objects helps learn those words in the short term.”

Baby steps.

Yup: Important Limits Exist

At the same time, you’ve probably noticed the boundary conditions in that statement.

  • The gestures did help participants remember concrete nouns (“window,” “hatchet”); at the same time, participants did not remember abstract nouns (“benefaction”, “protagonist/antagonist”) as smoothy over time. (I should be clear: this statement summarizes a very complex set of findings; others might look at the findings and disagree with that statement.)
  • The gestures did help after 5 days, but not after five months. So: short-term memory got a boost. But long-term memory — not so much.

I should also say that this study design (like ALL study designs) includes some features that require our caution.

  • 22 is not a huge number of participants. I wouldn’t often make big decisions based on such a small group. (Of course, as more and more small studies agree, they might add up to compelling recommendations.)

Also, this study pushes back against one of the more common statements within the broader field of “embodied cognition,” and also in the narrower field of “gestures promote learning.”

“Learning doesn’t just happen in the brain; it happens in the body.

Now, I spend LOTS of time on this blog warning readers against over-reliance on neuroscience. We spend far too much time saying “ooh, look, BRAIN.” (I think we should focus much more on psychology: the study of the mind.)

This study, however, requires that we take the brain itself seriously. Those brain scramblers, after all, scrambled signals in the motor cortex: a part of the brain. They did not do anything to the arm or the rest of the body.

We can, I think, reasonably say that the learning happened WITH the body. But it didn’t happen IN the body; more precisely, it happened IN the part of the body called “the brain.” The arm didn’t change and learn. The brain changed. The mind learned.

TL; DR

This small study adds to a growing body of research that suggests seeing and making the right kind of gesture can help people learn some things, at least for a few days.

It does not reach grander conclusions than those.

And, it strongly contradicts the idea that “learning happens in the body.” Bodily movements can help help the brain change; but the brain itself changes, and the mind itself learns.


 

A Final Note

This study includes substantially more complicated procedures and calculations than I typically try to summarize on the blog. As a result, reasonable readers might believe I have over-simplified the study and its conclusions; you might even think I have MIS-summarized both.

I have, quite genuinely, tried to do justice to the study and its conclusions. And, I include this link so you can check for yourself.


Mathias, B., Waibel, A., Hartwigsen, G., Sureth, L., Macedonia, M., Mayer, K. M., & von Kriegstein, K. (2021). Motor cortex causally contributes to vocabulary translation following sensorimotor-enriched training. Journal of Neuroscience41(41), 8618-8631.