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How Can We Help Students Study Better?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

This story might sound familiar:

You attend a Learning and the Brain conference (like, say, our upcoming conference about Teaching During a Pandemic) and come away with FANTASTIC ideas.

You go back to your classrooms — in person, online, asynchronous — and tell your students all about the amazing research you saw. (Perhaps you discuss the importance of retrieval practice, which helps much more than old-fashioned review.)

Your students sound thrilled!

And yet, the very next day they ignore your retrieval practice suggestion, and go right back to rereading their notes. Ugh.

SO FRUSTRATING!

What can we do to help our students study correctly — which is to say: how can we help them learn more, and more effectively?

In a recent article, Mark McDaniel and Gilles Einstein offer a 4-step framework to help change students’ study behavior.

Called KBCP — which stands for “Knowledge, Belief, Commitment, and Planning” — this framework could make a real difference for long-term learning.

The Short Version

In brief:

Knowledge: we should tell students about the study strategy or technique that research has shown to be effective: say, spacing, or generative learning strategies.

Belief: students then undertake an exercise that demonstrates the benefits of this strategy.

Commitment: students get onboard with the idea. They don’t just know and believe; they buy in.

Planning: next, they make a specific and measurable plan to enact their commitment.

As McDaniel and Einstein’s article shows, each of these steps has good research behind it. Their contribution to this field: they bring them all together in a coherent system.

McDaniel and Einstein emphasize that teachers shouldn’t rely on just one or two of these steps. They all work together to help students learn more:

Our central premise is that all four components must and can be explicitly targeted in a training program to maximize self-guided transfer of effective learning strategies.

The problem with the story that began this blog post, in other words, is that it targets only the first of these four steps. To help our students learn, we need to do more and better.

One Example

This article makes for such compelling reading because the authors both explain the research behind each step and offer specific classroom examples to show what they mean.

For instance: the “belief” step encourages teachers to design an exercise that helps students really believe that the technique will work. What would such an exercise look like?

If, for instance, we want to encourage students to “generate explanations” as a memory strategy, what exercise would persuade them that it works?

M&E describe a strategy they’ve often used.

First: have students learn several simple sentences. For instance: “The brave man ran into the house.”

Second: for half of those sentences, encourage students to (silently) generate an explanation: perhaps, “to rescue the kitten from the fire.”

Third: when we test students on those sentences later, they will (almost certainly) remember the second group better than the first. That is: they’ll have reason to believe the strategy works because they experienced it themselves.

McDaniel and Einstein include such examples for each of their four steps.

And Beyond

This article gets my attention for another reason as well. The authors write:

There are many potentially effective ways to actualize the key components of the KBCP framework, and we offer the following as one possible example of a training program.

Frequent readers recognize my mantra here: “don’t just do this thing; instead, think this way.”

In other words, McDaniel and Einstein don’t offer readers a to-do list — a set of instructions to follow. Instead, they provide ideas for teachers to consider, and then to adapt to our own specific teaching context.

KBCP will look different in a 2nd grade classroom than a high-school classroom; different in a gym class than a tuba lesson; different in a Brazilian cultural context than a Finnish one.

Research can offer us broad guidance on the directions to go; it can’t tell us exactly what to do with our own students.

The KBCP framework creates another intriguing possibility.

I recently saw an article saying — basically — that “teaching study skills doesn’t work.”

Its provocative abstract begins:

This paper argues that the widespread approach to enhancing student learning through separate study skills courses is ineffective, and that the term ‘study skills’ itself has misleading implications, which are counterproductive to learning.

The main argument is that learning how to study effectively at university cannot be separated from subject content and the process of learning.

Having seen McDaniel and Einstein’s article, I wonder: perhaps these courses don’t work not because they can’t work, but because they’re currently being taught incorrectly.

Perhaps if study skills classes followed this KBCP framework, they would in fact accomplish their mission.

M&E acknowledge that their framework hasn’t been tested together as a coherent strategy. To me at least, it sounds more promising than other approaches I’ve heard.

Does Online Learning Work? Framing the Debate to Come…
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

With news that several very effective vaccines will be increasingly available over the upcoming months, we teachers can now start thinking about “a return to normal”: that is — in person teaching as we (mostly) worked before February of 2020.

One question will inevitably be debated: did online learning work?

I suspect that the “debate” will go something like this. One voice will stake an emphatic opinion: ONLINE CLASSES WERE AN UNEXPECTED TRIUMPH! Some data will be offered up, perhaps accompanied by a few stories.

An equally emphatic voice will respond: ONLINE CLASSES FAILED STUDENTS, TEACHERS, AND PARENTS! More data. More stories.

This heated exchange will reverberate, perhaps improved by all of Twitter’s nuance and common sense.

A Better Way?

Rather than launch and participate a BATTLE OF EXTREMES, I hope we can look for a more level-headed approach. As is so often the case when research meets teaching, a key question should be boundary conditions.

Whenever we look for a research  finding (e.g.: drawing helps students learn!), we should ask: under what precise conditions is this true?

Does drawing help older students and younger ones? In math and in phonics? Autistic students, dyslexic students, aphantasic students, and neurotypical students?

We’re always looking for boundaries, because every research finding has boundaries. As Dylan Wiliam (who will be speaking at our February Conference) famously says: “When it comes to educational interventions, everything works somewhere. Nothing works everywhere.”

If we ask about boundary conditions for the strengths and weaknesses of online learning, we can have a much more productive discussion.

Places to Start

Age: I suspect we’ll find that — on average — older students did better with online classes than younger ones. My friends who teach college/high school don’t love online teaching, but they don’t seem quite as overwhelmed/defeated by those who teach younger grades.

Additional Technology: Is it better to have a simple Zoom-like platform with occasional breakout sessions? Does it help to use additional, elaborate programs to supplement online learning?

Discipline: Perhaps online teaching worked better with one kind of class (science?) than another (physical education?).

Personality: Although most high school students I know emphatically prefer in-person classes, I do know two who greatly prefer the online version. Both really struggle negotiating adolescent social networks; they’ve been frankly grateful to escape from those pressures and frustrations.

Teachers’ personalities could matter as well. Some of us comfortably roll with the punches. Some of us feel set in our ways.

Administration: Did some school leaders find more effective ways to manage transitions and support teachers and students? The question “does online learning work” might get different answers depending on the managerial skill supervising the whole process. (In my work, I find teachers appreciated decisiveness and clear communication above all else. Even when they didn’t like the decision itself, they liked knowing that a decision had been made.)

SES: No doubt the socio-economic status (SES) of school districts made a big difference. It’s hard to run online classes in schools and communities that don’t have money for technology, or infrastructure to support its use.

Pedagogy: Do some styles of teaching work better online? Or — a slightly different version of this questions — do teachers and schools with experience “flipping the classroom” have greater success with an online model?

Teacher Experience: Perhaps well-seasoned teachers had more experience to draw on as they weathered the muddle? Or, perhaps younger teachers — comfortable with tech, not yet set in their ways — could handle all the transitions more freely?

Country/Culture: Do some countries or cultures manage this kind of unexpected social transition more effectively than others?

Two Final Points

First: We should, I think, expect complex and layered answers to our perfectly appropriate question.

In other words: online learning (a la Covid) probably worked well for these students studying this topic in this country using this technology. It was probably so-so for other students in other circumstances. No doubt it was quite terrible for still other students and disciplines and pedagogies.

Second: I myself have long been skeptical of the idea that “online learning is the future of education (and everything else)!”

And yet, I don’t think we can fairly judge the validity of that claim based on this last year’s experience.

After all: most teachers and school and students didn’t get well-designed and deliberately-chosen online education. They got what-can-we-throw-together-with-grit-and-hope online education.

Of course that didn’t work as well as our old ways (for most students). Nothing worked well: restaurants struggled to adjust. The travel industry struggled. Retail struggled.

Yes: I think that — for almost everybody learning almost everything — in-person learning is likely to be more effective. But I myself won’t judge the whole question based on this year’s schooling.

We all benefit from forgiveness for our lapses and muddles during Covid times.

Let’s learn what we reasonably can about online education, and use that experience to improve in-person and remote learning in the future.

Seriously: What Motivates Teachers to Be Funny?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

To start 2021 in the right spirit, let’s think about humor in the classroom.

It seems that, obviously, humor might be a good classroom strategy. When the lesson slows down, a joke or two might brighten the mood.

Once we begin studying this question the way researchers study things, well, it gets much more complicated. (I once heard the claim that “laughter improves learning 44%!” Unsurprisingly, so vague a statement doesn’t hold up to much scrutiny. For starters, the cited research says 28%, not 44%…)

We might study, for instance:

What kind of humor do teachers use?

Are there differences between K-12 teachers’ and college professors’ use of humor?

Are there gender differences in use of humor? (Believe it or not, there’s a controversy here.)

What motivates teachers to attempt humor?

I’ve recently found research trying to answer this question:

What motivation traits prompt college professors to try content-relevant humor? (“Content relevant” means they’re not just telling jokes; they’re being funny about the topic they’re discussing.)

What did the researchers find?

Kinds of Motivation

Psychologists often divide behavior up into plausible categories for analysis.

For instance, if you know Carol Dweck’s work on mindset, you know that some people feel motivated to learn more, while others feel motivated to demonstrate what they already know.

In this case, college professors might want to improve at professing, or they might want to demonstrate that they’re already top-notch professors.

Also, motivations can be either positive or negative.

In this case, a professor might want to demonstrate that they’re good (positive), or not reveal that they’re bad (negative).

Researchers have other motivational categories as well.

In this study, they wonder if professors use humor to improve relationships with students.

And, they wonder if a prof’s desire to avoid work influences their use of humor.

To start answering these questions, the researchers had more than 250 professors fill out surveys that give insight into their motivation. (Important: these data, in other words, come from self report. Not everyone is persuaded by such data.)

They also asked students to rate — on a scale of 1 to 5 — their agreement with this statement: “Instructor enhances presentations with the use of humor.”

The Envelope, Please

So, what did they learn?

For instance: when did students endorse the statement that their professor “enhances presentations with the use of humor?”

Answer: when those professors themselves said s/he wanted to “build amicable and valued relationships with students.” That is: profs with relational goals use humor to build those relationships.

How about the reverse? When did students consistently reject that statement?

Answer: When their professors said they wanted to avoid looking bad. (If you’re keeping score, that’s a “negative performance” goal.)

In brief: professors who want to connect with students make content-related jokes. Those who fear looking incompetent remain humorless.

Three Interesting Points

First: the researchers here are scrupulous to distinguish between college professors and K-12 teachers. They don’t claim that these findings apply to earlier grades.

Second: This research team — contradicting others — finds that women use humor more often than men. (The controversy continues!)

Third: One word in particular jumps out at me: “enhances.” Students didn’t say that the professors “tried” to be funny, but that they “enhanced presentations with humor.”

That is: the students suggest that — for teachers who want to build relationships — humor really does make lectures better. The researchers don’t address that question directly, but — at least to me — that conclusion flows directly from this research.

Oh, what the heck. Let’s have another.

Fourth: In humor as in all things, personality matters. If you’re not a funny teacher, don’t feel that you have to start telling jokes to build relationships. You — almost certainly — have your own ways to do so. Use your own authentic strategies to connect with your students.

I can’t cite research, but I’m almost certain: your own honest self-presentation will be MUCH more effective at building relationships that forced humor.

The Best Teaching Advice We’ve Got
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

You want to improve your teaching with psychology research?

We’ve got good news, and bad news.

And more good news.

Good News: we have lots and LOTS of research. We can talk about attention, or working memory, or the spacing effect, or motivation, or stress…the list is long. And super helpful.

So much practical advice!

Bad News: actually, the bad news is the same as the good news. We’ve got SO MUCH good research that it’s honestly hard to keep track of it all.

I mean, seriously. Should you start by looking at attention research? Or stress research?

Should we think about the motivational effects of student-teacher relationships, or the perils of working memory overload, or the benefits of desirable difficulty?

Which is most important?

Honestly, I think our next priority is not so much finding out new truths about learning, but organizing all the information we already have.

More Good News

If you agree that we really need someone to sort all these suggestions into a coherent system, you’ll be delighted to read this article by Stephen Chew (Twitter handle: @SChewPsych) and William Cerbin (@BillCerbin).

Other scholars — for instance, Barak Rosenshine — have put together a coherent system based on learning principles. Chew and Cerbin, instead, organize their system around cognitive challenges.

That is:

If students feel anxiety about a topic or discipline, that emotion will interfere with their learning.

If students have prior misconceptions, they will distort students’ understanding.

If classroom work or assignments go beyond working memory limits, students won’t learn effectively (or, at all).

When planning a course or a lesson or an assignment, teachers can think their way through these specific challenges. By contemplating each one, we can design our work to best facilitate learning.

Getting the Emphasis Right

If you’re thinking “this is such excellent news! It just can’t get any better!” — well — I’ve got some news: it gets better.

Chew and Cerbin write:

There is no single best teaching strategy for all students, topics, and situations. The proposed framework is not prescriptive … and can guide adaptation of teaching practice.

In other words, they’re not saying: here’s a list of things to do.

Instead, they are saying: here are several topics/problems to consider.

Teaching advice should not include “best practices.” (That’s a business concept.) It should include “best questions to ponder as we make decisions.” Chew and Cerbin make this point repeatedly.

Frequent readers know that I’ve been banging on for years with this mantra: “Don’t just do this thing; instead, think this way.”

We should think about our students’ working memory limitations. The strategies we use might differ for 1st graders and 8th graders.

We should think about the importance of transfer. A Montessori school and a KIPP school will (almost certainly) use differing strategies to reach that goal.

We should think about our students’ prior knowledge. The best way to measure that knowledge might be different for students with diagnosed learning differences.

Yes: we should consider these nine topics. But the ways we answer them must depend on our students, our schools, our curriculum, and ourselves.

For all these reasons, I recommend Chew and Cerbin’s article with great enthusiasm.

And, happily, you can meet Dr. Chew at our online conference in February! (In case you’re wondering: I was planning to write about this article before I knew he was joining the conference. A happy synchronicity.)

James Flynn Changed the Way We Think about Intelligence
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

In 1950, the average score on an IQ test was ~100. In 2020, the average score on an IQ test was ~100.

Nothing, it seems, had changed.

Those facts, however, disguise a surprising truth.

IQ tests are based on scaled scores. That is: the student’s raw test score is translated into an IQ score according to a formula. And — here’s the key part — that formula is readjusted every ten years.

So: the reason that average IQ scores haven’t changed is that the formula has changed to keep the average at 100. A lot. Raw scores on the underlying test have gone considerably over the history over the test.

If our grandparents’ raw scores were translated according to today’s formula, their average would be about 70. If our scores were translated according to our grandparents’ formula, the average would be about 130.

What’s going on here?

Are we really that much smarter than our grandparents?

https://www.ted.com/talks/james_flynn_why_our_iq_levels_are_higher_than_our_grandparents?language=en#t-524785

James Flynn, who first noted this astonishing increase, has a different way of thinking about this question.

He, instead, pointed to differences in schooling. For instance:

Children today, on average, get LOTS more schooling than did children when the IQ test was first developed.

Today’s schooling tends to focus more on abstract and hypothetical thinking than did school 100 years ago.

Flynn’s argument, of course, includes many more details and insights.

Even people who don’t care much for IQ as a way to measure intelligence admire the way Flynn has prompted us to think differently and deeply about the history of intelligence: how we measure it, how we develop it, how we understand it.

You can read Wikipedia’s article on the Flynn Effect here.

Today’s Sad News

James Flynn died last week in New Zealand, where he had been a professor for decades.

He’s being remembered not only as a giant in the field of intelligence research, but also as an unusual combination of intelligence and kindness.

Over on Twitter, Richard Haier — editor of the journal Intelligence — tweeted:

Jim Flynn became famous for showing a global secular rise in IQ scores but he was admired even more for engaging with critics as a gentleman. In a field raked with controversy and not without personal attacks, Jim sought out contrary opinions and engaged intellectually.

We have learned from Flynn’s insights into human cognition. We can also learn from his example on conversing with people we disagree with.

December Book-a-Palooza
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

When I started in this field, back in 2008, teachers really didn’t have many helpful books to draw on.

Books about teaching? Sure. Books about psychology and neuroscience research? Absolutely. Books bringing those topics together? Not so much…

What a difference a decade makes!

These days, we’ve got so many books that it’s hard to keep up. My “Read This Now” pile has been growing for months. Only in the last few weeks — since I sent my own book to the publisher — have I had time to read again.

I want to share a few recent discoveries with you.

Generative Learning in Action

A new series of books, edited by Tom Sherrington, focuses on research “in Action.” They’re all quite short — less than 100 pages — and carefully focused on practical classroom applications of research.

Sherrington kicked off this series with Rosenshine’s Principles in Action last year. Now, Zoe and Mark Enser’s book explores Fiorella and Mayer’s theory of Generative Learning.

Unlike many such books, this one focuses more on what students are doing. Specifically, generative learning invites them to do mental work that makes sense of their learning.

The Ensers describe eight distinct kinds of generative learning. Some — like “summarizing” — seem straightforward, even mundane. Others — like “drawing” or “enacting” — might feel more daunting to some students.

In every case, Generative Learning explains how these activities require their big three mental activities: selecting, organizing, and integrating information. When students “map” a topic, for instance, they have to select relevant ideas, organize them into meaningful patterns, and integrate them into a coherent whole.

The Ensers take care care to offer specific classroom examples of these eight strategies. Several chapters include “case studies” from other teachers who have put them to use.

They also emphasize the limitations that might make them less helpful. (Researchers call these “boundary conditions.”) For instance, almost all of these techniques require some working memory headroom. They also benefit from a fair amount of explanation and practice.

One important caveat. As noted above, generative learning strategies focus on the cognitive work that students do. The Ensers explicitly emphasize that such generative learning does not replace teaching but follows teaching. That is: we don’t use these strategies so that students might figure out concepts on their own. We use them so that students might consolidate ideas they learn in class.

In brief: this book — which takes less than an hour to read — provides clear explanations and practical examples. If you want both new ideas to try and new ways to think about your students’ classroom work, give Generative Learning a read. (Next up in the series: Ollie Lovell explores Cognitive Load Theory.)

The Science of Learning: 77 Studies that Every Teacher Needs to Know

In our work, you’ll often hear that we teachers should try a certain technique because “research says so.”

“What research?” we ask. “Well — you know — the research,” comes the reply.

In this usefully skimmable book, Bradley Busch and Edward Watson (no relation, that I know of) briskly summarize 77 research studies that might usefully guide our practice.

For each study, they describe its design, its main findings, and its classroom applications.

Should we really spread practice out over time? Check out #4. (BTW, I’ll give you a hint. “Yes.”)

How do we make feedback more effective? #25 has some answers.

What does PISA data tell us about helping disadvantaged students? The answers — summarized in #62 — might surprise you.

In this book, Busch and Watson provide lots of useful information. AND, they offer insights into reading and understanding research studies.

The more of these recaps you read, the more insight you’ll have into the strategies researchers use to answer the questions that they ask. (However: don’t be fooled by the repeated tagline “the one about” — as in, “the one about reading out loud.” ALL psychology research requires MANY studies.)

Like Generative LearningThe Science of Learning makes for a helpful, easy, and informative read.

Who On Earth Are You

Given the importance of cross-cultural understanding, it would be great to find a wise guide for negotiating its inherent difficulties.

How do different cultures think about time? About hierarchy? About uncertainty?

How do those differences influence teaching, learning, and schoolkeeping?

In his new book — Who On Earth Are You?: A Handbook for Thriving in a Mixed-Up World — Peter Welch brings several perspectives to these complex questions. (The illustrations are by his wife, Suzanne Shortt.)

Clearly, Welch knows A LOT of research. For instance, he explores Richard Lewis’s theory about cultural modes of communication: linear-active, multi-active, and reactive.

Despite his scholarly knowledge, Welch keeps his book light and personal.

Having lived in many countries and many continents, he has humorous and sad and enlightening stories to tell.

Having taught in schools — and run schools — from Africa to Turkey to Singapore to Finland to Thailand, he particularly understands how cultural differences shape educational expectations and experiences.

Welch has more than the usual share of “I thought it would turn out this way, but gosh was I wrong!” stories to illustrate the questions he explores. (For instance: the production of Romeo and Juliet he staged in Lesotho included — to his great surprise — lots of spontaneous audience participation.)

If you teach — or plan to teach — in a school with a rich cultural blend, Welch’s humility, humor, and insight offer new ways to think about living and teaching in our “mixed-up world.” He makes a thoughtful and encouraging guide on this adventure.

Possible Selves in STEM: Helping Students See Themselves as Scientists
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Why don’t more students sign up for STEM classes, and enter STEM careers?

Could we increase the number, and the diversity within that group?

Researchers in California came up with a simple strategy: one that offered powerful results.

Here’s the story…

Possible Selves

This research team, let by Jeffry Schinske, wondered if students avoided science classes because they simply couldn’t see themselves as scientists.

“I am this kind of person,” students might think. “Scientists are that kind of person. I’ll just never belong.”

To push back against this false belief, Schinske’s team tried a straightforward strategy. Their biology students learned not only from a textbook, but also from primary sources. By learning course information from a broadly diverse range of scientists, these students expanded their sense of who scientists might be.

That is: they might learn about neurobiology by studying the work of Dr. Ben Barres. In this way, students learned about diseases of the nervous system and about trans scientists. (If you’re interested in Barres’s remarkable story, we introduced him on this blog a few years ago.)

They didn’t learn about biology concepts as a series of abstract truths. Instead, they learned about these topics through the people (Black or White or Asian or Hispanic; gay or straight; cis or trans; on the spectrum; funny or serious) who investigate them.

In other words: Schinske’s team wanted to increase their students’ sense of possible selves by showing scientists who resembled them.

Results?

Sure enough, this strategy worked. A few key findings.

Compared to students in an active control condition, students who did this “Scientist Spotlight” homework…

… thought of scientists in less stereotypical ways,

… felt they could individually relate to scientists as people like themselves (and felt that way for at least 6 months),

… felt more interested in science, and

… got higher grades.

Because of the study design, not all these findings are causal. That is, Shinske doesn’t claim that the Scientist Spotlight caused the higher grades.

But, it’s an intriguing possibility — especially because it doesn’t take additional time for either students or teachers.

In Their Own Words

More than most research, this study includes passages from surveys that the students completed. The students’ own words helpfully communicate the power of this technique. For instance,

For my whole life I … wasn’t exposed to any scientist who was of African American descent. That, as a fellow African American, brought me joy as it shows that African Americans are no longer abiding to the negative stigma we have. She’s representing a powerful positing for us and  people have noticed her work. It gave me incentive to push for my own dreams and to succeed.

Or

I found this Ted Talk with Charles Limb incredibly interesting mostly because I am a musician myself who has been trained both classically and in jazz.

Or

Before I learned about scientists in this class, I thought scientists were like “nerds” or what they show in movies. The characters would be very geeky, had glasses, spoke monotone, and thought they were above everyone. However, through all the research I’ve done in this class, scientists are just normal people like myself. They love to learn new things, they have a life outside the laboratory, they are fun … My opinion of people who do science has completely changed thanks to this class.

Clearly, this strategy strongly influenced these (and many other) students.

If you try this out with your own scientists, please let me know what you find!

Two New Ways of Thinking About Memory
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

In our classroom work, we teachers focus on learning; in their research, psychologists and neuroscientists often focus on memory. We have, in other words, different frameworks for talking about the same topic.

Photo by Vlad Tchompalov on Unsplash

When I find one review article that provides TWO fresh ways to understand memory and learning, well, that’s worth sharing.

Humans have MANY memory systems with many daunting (and overlapping) names: working memory, declarative memory, semantic memory, and so forth.

In our day-to-day lives, we often focus on episodic memory. As the name suggests, this memory strand acquires vividly detailed pictures of specific events:

My birthday party (I can describe the cinnamon in the chocolate cake, and why my brother was looking so grouchy).

The time you found a stranger’s wallet (You can remember the chilly, opaque puddle from which you plucked the wallet, and the stranger’s shocked gratitude when you sleuthed down his phone number to return it).

The day the principal literally dropped the mic (Students still talk about the hollow bang and the agonizing reverb when the mic hit the stage floor in the gym).

Episodic memories fill our scrapbooks and dinner-table stories.

Over time, episodic memories gradually turn into semantic memories: general knowledge of abstract facts.

For instance:

At one point, probably in school, you learned that Abraham Lincoln had been assassinated. That evening, you had an episodic memory of learning that truth. You could say which teacher told you; you might wince at the sound of squeaking chalk as s/he wrote on the board.

Over time, however, that detailed episodic memory has become semantic memory. You know the abstract fact (Booth killed Lincoln), but not the rich details of when you learned it.

You no longer remember — episodically — when you learned that fact, but you remember the fact itself — semantically.

In psychology language, your brain semanticized this episodic memory.

Too Much of a Good Thing

Truthfully, we want our students to semanticize most of their learning.

For instance: I don’t want them to know that 3 + 4 = 7 at this specific moment.

I want them to abstract a general, semantic rule: three of something, combined with four more of the somethings, add up to seven somethings. (Unless those somethings are rumors, in which case they add up to a billion.)

I want them to know that the pen is mightier than the sword is an example of metonymy. But I don’t want them to limit their knowledge to that one example.

Instead, I want them to recognize other metonyms — which they can do if they semanticize that example.

At times, however, students can abstract too far.

If they conclude that a roundish number (like 3) plus a pointy number (like 4) add up to seven, then they might conclude that a roundish 8 plus a sharpish 1 add up to seven. In this case, they over-generalized: that is, over-semanticized.

If they conclude that the words pen and sword are always metonyms — that they never mean literally “pen” and “sword” — then they have gone too far.

When learning to speak, children pick up the abstract rule that “-ed” makes words past tense in English. But, they over-semanticize when they say “goed” instead of “went.”

As teachers, we want students to get the balance just right. We want them to translate individual examples into abstract rules.

But: we don’t want them to over-apply those abstract rules to inappropriate situations.

Teaching Implications?

At this point, you might worry: gosh, ANOTHER set of teaching techniques I have to master.

This research team has good news for you: the techniques you’ve heard of at Learning and the Brain conferences help students get this balance right.

That is: retrieval practice helps students get the episodic/semantic balance right.

So do spacing and interleaving.

So does sleep, and (probably) mindfulness and mindful rest.

This episodic/semantic balance is a new way of thinking about old teaching techniques, not a call for new teaching techniques.

Second “New Way”

Authors van Kesteren and Meeter also offer a neuroscientific account of long-term memory formation.

The (very) brief summary goes like this.

We know that both the prefrontal cortex (PFC) and the hippocampus participate in new learning.

In their framework, the PFC helps connect new information with pre-existing mental models (often called schema). And the hippocampus helps organize new information that doesn’t align with a pre-existing mental model/schema.

That is: the brain’s response to new information depends on our current knowledge of it.

If we know something, the PFC does lots of the memory work.

If we know very little, the hippocampus does lots of the memory work.

As always, this neurobiological account wildly oversimplifies a hugely complicated series of events. (This is a blog, after all.)

And, it doesn’t provide new teaching strategies. We don’t “teach the PFC this way, and teach the hippocampus this other way.” (If you hear someone say that, be SUPER skeptical.)

However, it does offer a fascinating theory about the brain activity underlying our amazing mental abilities.

Putting It Together

This post’s title offered “two new ways to think about memory.”

First, teachers can think about converting episodic memories into semantic memories (without going too far).

Second, we can think about the PFC’s role in adding to existing schema, and the hippocampus’s role in developing new schema.

Neither new framework changes your teaching — assuming you’re already using the strategies that you hear about at LatB conferences so frequently. But, both offer us new ways to view our teaching from new perspectives — that is, to use both our PFCs and our hippocampi at the same time.


For earlier thoughts on episodic (also called “autobiographical”) memory vs. semantic memory, click here. And here for Clare Sealy’s discussion of the topic.

Gratitude in School, 2020 Edition
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Here’s a pre-Thanksgiving question: How much good news can you pack into one psychology study?

Lots of psychology research focuses on human difficulties:

Why is it hard to learn and develop?

Why do people struggle to connect?

What happens when mental health decays?

The field of positive psychology — as the name suggests — turns its focus to the upsides of mental experience: human flourishing, connection, wellness, and development.

For instance: how about gratitude?

What does research tell us about gratitude? After all: we could all use a little positive focus these days…

Benefits of Connection?

A research team in Hong Kong wanted to know: how does the feeling of connection with other people help us in schools?

Working with high school students, they measured lots of variables:

students’ connection with parents, teachers, and peers

their perceived academic confidence, with things like:

study skills, time management, & creative thinking

Because they measured these variables at different times, they could identify an interesting causal pattern.

Students who felt more connected to teachers, parents, and peers (that’s good!) also felt higher levels of gratitude (that’s also good!).

And: that gratitude boost resulted in higher levels of things like study skills, time management, creative thinking, and investment in learning (those are all good too!).

This good thing (connection) led to that good thing (gratitude), which increased these other good things (school work habits and values). That’s a whole lotta positive in one psychology study.

Research Implications

Honestly, I don’t know we teachers will do much differently as a result of this study. I suspect we were in favor of connection before we saw this research, and we’re still in favor of connection now.

We were pro-gratitude; we still are.

At this time of year — after a 2020 that hasn’t given us much to celebrate — it might lift our spirits to see such results. Many of us got into teaching because, well, we value the connections we have with our students.

Yes: Shakespeare is great. Yes: an appreciation of Mali ‘s Imperial past inspires awe. Yes: black holes are amazingly cool and fun to study. But it’s the people we study with that really make the job joyful and worthwhile.

In other words: schools should devote lots of time to our students’ knowledge.

And: the time we take to connect with our students helps them master that knowledge.

In this year that has created so much stress — at a time we remember all that makes us thankful — it’s good to know: gratitude itself is something we can be grateful for.

Parachutes Don’t Help (Important Asterisk)
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

A surprising research finding to start your week: parachutes don’t reduce injury or death.

How do we know?

Researchers asked participants to jump from planes (or helicopters), and then measured their injuries once they got to the ground. (To be thorough, they checked a week later as well.)

Those who wore parachutes and those who did not suffered — on average — the same level of injury.

Being thorough researchers, Robert Yeh and his team report all sorts of variables: the participants’ average acrophobia, their family history of using parachutes, and so forth.

They also kept track of other variables. The average height from which participants jumped: 0.6 meters. (That’s a smidge under 2 feet.) The average velocity of the plane (or helicopter): 0.0 kilometers/hour.

Yes: participants jumped from stationary planes. On the ground. Parked.

Researchers include a helpful photo to illustrate their study:

Representative study participant jumping from aircraft with an empty backpack. This individual did not incur death or major injury upon impact with the ground

Why Teachers Care

As far as I know, teachers don’t jump out of planes more than other professions. (If you’re jumping from a plane that is more than 0.6 meters off the ground, please do wear a parachute.)

We do, however, rely on research more than many.

Yeh’s study highlights an essential point: before we accept researchers’ advice, we need to know exactly what they did in their research.

Too often, we just look at headlines and apply what we learn. We should — lest we jump without parachutes — keep reading.

Does EXERCISE helps students learn?

It probably depends on when they do the exercise. (If the exercise happens during the lesson, it might disrupt learning, not enhance it.)

Does METACOGNITION help students learn?

It probably depends on exactly which metacognitive activity they undertook.

Do PARACHUTES protect us when we jump from planes?

It probably depends on how high the plane is and how fast it’s going when we jump.

In brief: yes, we should listen respectfully to researchers’ classroom guidance. AND, we should ask precise questions about that research before we use it in our classrooms.