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The Rare Slam Dunk? Blue Light Before Bed
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

I spend A LOT of time on this blog debunking “research-based” certainties.

No, handwriting isn’t obviously better than laptops for taking notes.

No, the “jigsaw method” isn’t a certain winner.

No, “the ten minute rule” isn’t a rule, and doesn’t last ten minutes.

No, dopytocin isn’t worth your attention. (Ok, I made up the word “dopytocin.” The blog post explains why.)

And so forth.

For that reason, I was DELIGHTED to discover a strong “research-based” claim that might hold up to scrutiny. Here’s the story…

The Quest Begins…

A colleague posted on eXTwitter a simple question; it went something like this:

I’ve always heard that “blue light from screens before bed” interferes with sleep — in fact, I’ve heard “science says so.” But: I just realized that I don’t actually know anything about the science. Now I’m wondering if it’s true…

Well, NOW YOU’VE GOT MY ATTENTION.

I too have frequently heard the “blue light before bed” claim. I too had understood that “research says so.” I too had never explored that research. It’s obviously time to saddle up.

I confess I did so with a small sense of dismay.

Small toddler sitting on the bed with special effects from ipad

By nature, I’m not a contrarian. I don’t want to go around saying “that thing that everyone believes is ‘based on science’ has no good research support that I can find.” I’m not trying to lose friends and upset people.

But, as you can see from the list above, LOTS of people say “you should do X because research proves Y” — even though research REALLY does not consistently support Y. (Did I mention the “ten minute rule”?)

Fearing that I would — once again — find myself contradicting commonly held wisdom, I dove in.

As is so often the case, I started at elicit.org. (Important note: NOT illicit.org. I have no idea what’s at illicit.org…but the idea makes me nervous. This is a G-rated blog!)

I put this question into its search box: “Does blue light from screens interfere with sleep?”

And I held my breath…

Treasure Unveiled

Come to find out: elicit.org has strong opinions!

Blue light from screens has been shown to interfere with sleep in several ways. It can shorten and worsen sleep quality, delay the onset of sleep, and increase feelings of fatigue (Kurek 2023). However, using amber filters on smartphone screens can improve sleep quality by blocking the short-wavelength blue light (Mortazavi 2018).

Wearing color-tinted lenses to filter short-wavelength light exposure before sleep may also improve sleep, particularly in individuals with certain conditions (Shechter 2020). Exposure to blue-enriched light at low room light levels can impact homeostatic sleep regulation, reducing frontal slow wave activity during the first non-rapid eye movement episode (Chellappa 2013).

I like Elicit because it provides an ENORMOUS amount of data. I won’t attempt to list or summarize all the studies it highlighted. But I’ll point to a few factors that made this claim especially compelling.

Boundary conditions: studies have found this claim to be true across a variety of age groups. This conclusion doesn’t apply simply to a niche-y cohort (say, people in Atlanta who own bison farms); it applies wherever we look.

Positive and negative findings: studies show both that more blue light interferes with sleep and that blocking blue light improves sleep.

Recency: these studies all come from the last decade. In other words: Elicit didn’t pull them up from the late ’80s. We’re talking about the most recent findings here.

I could go on.

Don’t Stop Now

I believe it was Adam Grant who wrote:

Be the kind of person who wants to hear what s/he doesn’t want to hear.

That is: when I start to believe a particular “research-based” claim, I should look hard for contradictory evidence.

If the evidence in favor outweighs the evidence against — and only if the evidence in favor outweighs the evidence against — can I start to believe the claim.

So, I started looking for contradictory evidence.

Here’s an easy strategy: google the claim with the word “controversy.” As in:

“Blue light interferes with sleep controversy”

or

“blue light interferes with sleep myth”

If such a controvery exists, then that google search should find it.

Sure enough, those two searches started to raise some interesting doubts.

I found two articles in the popular press — one in Time magazine, the other in Salon — pointing to this recent study. In it, researchers studied mice and found that yellow light — not blue light — seems the likelier candidate to be interfering with sleep.

Honestly, I found the technical language almost impenetrable, but I think the argument is: yellow light looks more like daylight, and blue light looks more like twilight. So: yellow light (but not blue light) is likelier to interfere with the various chemical processes that point the brain toward sleep. And: that’s what they found with the mice.

Of course, studies in mice are intersting but are never conclusive. (One of my research mottos: “Never, never, never change your teaching practice based on research into non-human animals.”)

So, what happens when we test the yellow-light/blue-light hypothesis in humans?

So Glad You Asked…

Inspired by that mouse study, another researched checked out the hypothesis in humans. She measured the effects of evening exposure to light along various wavelengths — yellow, yellow/blue, blue — and found…

nada.

As in, no wavelength combo had a different effect than any other.

However — this is an important “however” — the study included exactly 16 people. So, these results deserve notice, but don’t overturn all those other studies about the dangers of blue-light.

After all this back-n-forth, where do all these research findings leave us?

First: we do indeed have LOTS of research suggesting that blue light interferes with sleep.

Second: that research has been questioned recently and plausibly. But, those plausible questions don’t (yet) have lots of mojo. Mice + 16 people don’t add up to a fully persuasive case.

By this point, I’ve spent about three hours noodling this question about, and I’m coming around to this point of view:

Maybe the problem isn’t the blue light; maybe it’s the BRIGHT light. Yellow, blue, pink, whatever.

So, rather than buy special glasses or install light filters, I should put down my iPad and read from paper once I get in bed.

I should say that this conclusion isn’t exactly “research based.” Instead, it’s a way of accepting a muddle in the scientific results, and trying to find a good way forward.

This approach guides me in my classroom work, and now it will guide me when it comes to my Kindle as well.

The Unexpected Problem with Learning Styles Theory [Reposted]
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Our blogger will be taking the first two weeks of August off.

This post generated plenty of conversation when he published it last October.


 

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!

Outsmart Your Brain by Daniel Willingham
Erik Jahner, PhD
Erik Jahner, PhD

Aligning with my work in this area, Daniel Willingham’s influential insights have greatly contributed to the field of neuroscience and education. His critique of learning styles and debunking of common learning myths and neuromyths have been pivotal. His critique of the premature application of neuroscience to the classroom advocates for translational relevance to teachers and ecological validity. Many of us in the field have been driven by his many talks, books, and insights.

Who of us has not invested extensive hours exploring new study methods and learning techniques, experimenting with trendy apps, organization routines, and innovative solutions to overcome our learning challenges. Often, we seek a quick fix or a supposed magic pills that line the self-help sections of bookstores. However, it’s easy to lose sight of the essence of learning amidst the pursuit of strategies, most of which are unsupported tradition. While this book doesn’t offer instant solutions, it effectively helps distinguish valuable approaches from ineffective ones. Its well-organized collection of learning hacks and tips assists in separating the wheat from the chaff. Daniel stresses that learning requires time and effort—inevitable aspects that can’t be bypassed. Nevertheless, Outsmart Your Brain: Why Learning is Hard and How You Can Make It Easy empowers readers to optimize their time and maximize their learning outcomes. As an educator and lifelong learner, I found this book brimming with invaluable insights to evaluate and enhance my own performance across educational domains.

The book’s origins reveal its essence. Daniel, a college instructor, witnessed his students struggling with learning difficulties. Over time, he honed his ability to identify their problems but lacked a clear solution. This prompted this cognitive scientist and ambitious educator to embark on a journey evaluating and verifying the real-life applicability of various memory and learning strategies derived from his cognition and memory research and investigating what made sense. The result of this ongoing exploration is the book at hand, which undoubtedly lives up to its promise.

This book serves as an indispensable and practical user manual for being a better student and teacher. Its value extends particularly to learning skills specialists, college students seeking lecture support, parents aiming to guide their children’s learning, or the college instructor that wants to do more than act as a sage on the stage simply reading off notes. The book’s well-structured chapters can be utilized as weekly lessons or applied individually.

Thematically organized, the book covers a wide array of essential topics to enhance learning and academic performance. It offers guidance on understanding lectures, effective note-taking strategies, making the most of labs, activities, and demonstrations, and techniques to enhance note organization for improved comprehension. Additionally, it provides valuable insights on tackling challenging readings, studying effectively for exams, assessing exam readiness, approaching different test formats.  Nurturing social-emotional skills in education Daniel also covers efficient work planning, overcoming procrastination through highly effective tips, maintaining focus, building self-confidence, and coping with anxiety.

The strategies presented in the book strike a balance between empirical research, realism, and accessibility. It acknowledges the “education in the wild,” delving into what students truly encounter and guiding them in the right direction. Dr. Willingham expertly supports these concepts with personal anecdotes from his own experiences as an educator, effectively illustrating how to make learning enjoyable and, consequently, more successful. Furthermore, the book is enriched with citations that bolster the suggested strategies and challenge traditional approaches that have been proven to be ineffective – ones we still prolifically teach and practice. I hope you notice, as i did that each chapter can be a friendly audit of our practices and beliefs about learning, urging us to evaluate how students and teachers foster successful learning and prompting tangible improvements. As I reflect on my own study years, I genuinely regret not having had access to this book. However, with my students, this book gives us some tools to be better learners together.

Warning: Misguided Neuroscience Ahead
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

I recently ran across a version* of this chart:

An (inaccurate) chart listing neurotransmitters: their effects and activities that enhance them

As you can see, this chart lists several neurotransmitters and makes recommendations based on their purported roles.

If you want to feel love, you should increase oxytocin. To do so, play with your dog.

If you want to feel more stable, you should boost serotonin. To do so, meditate, or go for a run.

And so forth.

On the one hand, this chart seems harmless enough. It recommends that we do quite sensible things — who can argue against “self-care,” or “hugging your children”? — and so can hardly provoke much controversy.

I, however, see at least two reasons to warn against it.

Willingham’s Razor

Most everyone has read Dan Willingham’s Why Don’t Students Like School?  (If you haven’t: RUN, don’t walk, to do so.)

Professor Willingham has also written a less well known book called When Can You Trust the Experts?, which offers lots of wise advice on seeing though bad “expert” advice.

One strategy he recommends:

Reread the “brain-based” teaching advice, and mentally subtract all the brainy words. If the advice makes good sense without them, why were they there in the first place? **

In the lists above, do we really need the names of the neurotransmitters for that advice to make sense?

To feel a sense of accomplishment, accomplish something.

If you want to feel better, eat chocolate.

To calm down, walk (or run) outdoors.

Who could object to these suggestions? Do we need multi-syllable words to embrace them?

I worry, in fact, that such charts create bad mental habits for teachers. Those habits sound like this:

If someone knows complicated neuro-terminology, then their teaching advice must be accurate. When a blogger uses the phrases “corpus callosum” and “research says,” therefore, I have to take their teaching advice.

No, you really DON’T have to take their advice. LOTS of people use the language of neuroscience to make their suggestions sounds more authoritative.

As I’ve written elsewhere, neuroscience rarely produces classroom-ready teaching advice.

PSYCHOLOGY gives teachers great ideas about memory and attention and learning and motivation.

A biological understanding of what’s happening during those mental functions (i.e., neuroscience) is fascinating, but doesn’t tell teachers what to do.

In brief: beware people who use neuro-lingo to advise you on practical, day-to-day stuff. Like, say, that chart about “happiness chemicals.”

When Simplification Leads to Oversimplification

My first concern: the chart misleadingly implies that neuroscientific terminology makes advice better.

My second concern: the chart wildly oversimplifies fantastically complicated brain realities.

For instance, this chart — like everything else on the interwebs — calls oxytocin “the love hormone.”

A smiley face with the word "oxytocin" as the smile

However, that moniker doesn’t remotely capture its complexity. As best I understand it (and my understanding is very tentative), oxytocin makes social interactions more intense — in both positive AND NEGATIVE directions.

So: when we add oxytocin, love burns brighter, hatred smoulders hotter, jealously rages more greenly.

To call it the “love hormone” is like saying “the weather is good.” Well, the weather can be good — but there are SO MANY OTHER OPTIONS.

The statement isn’t exactly wrong. But its limited representation of the truth makes it a particular kind of wrong.

So too the idea that dopamine is a “reward chemical.” Like oxytocin’s function, dopamine’s function includes such intricate nuance as to be difficult to describe in paragraphs — much less a handy catchphrase. ***

By the way: the most comprehensive and useful description of neurotransmitters I know comes in Robert Sapolsky’s book Behave. As you’ll see, they’re REALLY complicated. (You can meet professor Sapolsky at our conference in February.)

TL;DR

Yes, walking outside and hugging children and exercising are all good ideas for mental health.

No, we don’t need the names of neurotransmitters to make that advice persuasive.

We might worry about taking advice from people who imply that neuro-lingo does make it more persuasive.

And we can be confident that neurotransmitters are much, MUCH more complicated than such simplistic advice implies.


* I’ve made my own modified version of this chart. The point of this blog post is not to criticize the individuals who created the original, but to warn against the kind of thinking that produced it. “Name and shame” isn’t how we roll.

** I’m paraphrasing from memory. I’m on vacation, and the book is snug at home.

*** [Update on 12/30/22] I’ve just come across this study, which explores some of the contradictions and nuances in the function of serotonin as well.

The Unexpected Problem with Learning Styles Theory
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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!

A Little Help, Please…
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

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

Here’s the situation…

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

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

For instance:

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

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

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

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

A discussion about student motivation often defaults to this baseline:

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

A comment about note-taking strategies prompts this response:

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

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

We’ve Got Two Hands

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And

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

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

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

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

On the Other Hand

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

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

Encourage other listeners to adopt correct beliefs.

Here’s my awkward question:

does contradicting brain myths directly actually accomplish those goals?

Imagine I say:

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

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

Will others around them believe me?

Honestly, I’m not so sure…

A Compelling Backstory

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Big Question

So, here’s my problem.

I really must correct brain myths.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, here are my questions to you:

What approach would be most effective with your colleagues?

What approach would be most effective with you?

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

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

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

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

Honestly, I’m open for suggestions!

TL;DR

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

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

Understanding (False) Learning Styles Beliefs
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

If you’ve been near the internet recently, you know that Learning Styles Theory just ain’t true.

For a refresher, you could read the definitive research finding on the subject here.

Or, you could read this blog’s take on the myth.

If you’ve got Dan Willingham’s Why Don’t Student’s Like School? handy, you could reread chapter 7. Or, you could read Willingham’s article on the subject in the New York Times.

In the world of cognitive science, “learning styles” is right up there with “flat earth.”

Deeper Understanding

If we’re going to persuade people to give up this false belief, we should probably have a good understanding of their actual beliefs about learning styles.

It turns out, we’ve surveyed people about the prevalence of that belief. But, we don’t know much more than “yes” or “no” about it.

What precisely do they believe when they say they “believe in learning styles”?

A research team from Michigan wanted to know. So, they surveyed several hundred adults in the US to find out. Their results are, predictably, depressing. And also unpredictable in many ways.

So, on the depressing end of the scale: 96% of non-teachers endorse learning styles theory.

We shouldn’t feel too boastful however, because 91% of teachers do too.

Let that sink in for a moment. Imagine that 91% of doctors believed that balancing the humors would  heal their patients, and so bled people when they contracted a disease.

Ugh.

Generally, respondents believed that…

…people are predisposed to a learning style at birth,

…we can discover a person’s learning style when they’re quite young,

…different learning styles result from brain differences, and

…students with different learning styles will thrive in different kinds of classrooms (and careers).

That’s a whole lotta false belief right there.

Deeper Still, Some Glimmers of Hope?

At the same time, these surveys revealed some limitations as well.

Respondents believed that…

…learning styles are NOT determined at birth. (“Predisposed,” yes. “Determined,” no.),

…our learning style CAN change,

…we might have DIFFERENT learning style in various disciplines,

…learning styles don’t result from our GENETIC make-up, and

…we might have MORE THAN ONE learning style.

This second set of beliefs allows a little room for hope. In the first place, they contradict the beliefs listed above, and so create useful cognitive dissonance.

In the second place, they suggest some flexibility we might try to extend.

If, for instance, you DON’T believe that a learning style is determined at birth, maybe you’re can open to the idea that we all learn in multiple perceptual ways.

So too if you already DO believe that we can have more than one learning style.

If we can highlight this cognitive dissonance, and work with this kind of flexibility, we might be more effective in persuading people to move away from learning styles theories to others that have real research support.

Other Findings

The Michigan researchers noticed several other patterns as well.

First: they found that some people are all in on learning styles. That is, they focus on the certainty of the first list above.

But, others have more flexible, uncertain beliefs about learning styles. That is, they think of a learning style as more changeable than as fixed. (You might think of this as the “growth mindset” vs. “fixed mindset” version of learning styles beliefs–although the researchers don’t use those phrases.)

Second: researchers found, the teachers likeliest to endorse learning styles are those working with younger students.

In my view, this research suggests we really need to focus on information efforts on teachers in those years. After all, young students might be particularly susceptible to learning-styles messages from their teachers.

Third: strangely, the two most prevalent learning styles are thought to be: visual and kinesthetic.

Teachers, for instance, think that more than 90% of their students fit in those categories (56% visual; 36% kinesthetic).

Where do those beliefs come from? Perhaps we hear the message “there should be less teacher talk,” and infer that students aren’t “auditory learners.” And, when we hear the message “students learn by doing,” we infer that students are “kinesthetic learners.” (To be clear, I’m simply hypothesizing.)

The Big Picture

For many readers, these surveys may lead to a sense of despair. So many false beliefs; so little time to correct them.

At the same time, I do think this kind of research opens real possibilities. Once we understand the details of these scientific misconceptions, we can tailor more effective efforts explain how learning really works.

Why Do “Learning Styles” Theories Persist? [Updated 6-7-19]
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Over on Twitter, Blake Harvard has started a lively discussion about the persistence of Learning Styles Theory.

Given that the theory has been so widely debunked, why does it — zombie-like — stagger on?

To answer this question, Harvard checked out the websites of the top ten schools of education in the US. He searched for “learning styles,” and explored the first page of the search results.

His findings? Of those first pages:

One school (Columbia Teachers College) included a link that debunked the myth.

Two schools had no relevant mentions.

The remaining seven (including the ed school I attended!) included links to a neutral or positive description of learning styles.

Frying Pan, Meet Fire

Since posting his results, Harvard has raised the stakes.

In this twitter post, he invited readers to check out their own ed schools’ pages to see what they found.

The grim responses will dismay you. I haven’t tabulated the numbers — the list keeps growing — but the “roughly 70%” level seems plausible.

Imagine, for instance, that medical schools were still teaching miasma theory to explain cholera. Or that law schools were teaching that it’s unconstitutional for women to vote in federal elections.

In effect, that’s happening in today’s schools of education.

An Alternative, Additional Explanation

Perhaps this myth persists because our professional schools teach it. (Or, fail to root it out.)

Perhaps it persists because — you might want to sit down for this one — it’s mostly false but partly true.

For example: we do learn material better if we have many different ways to access a memory.

If I say: “I’m thinking of an actor from Australia,” you might or might not know who I’m talking about.

But:

If I say: “I’m thinking about an actress. She’s from Australia. She was in that movie about Virginia Woolf. And she was married to Tom Cruise,” you’re MUCH likelier to figure out that I’m talking about Nicole Kidman.

Instead of calling up 2 neural networks (profession, people from Australia), I’ve called up 5 (profession, gender, people from Australia, Virginia Woolf movies, people married to Tom Cruise.)

So, too, if you believe learning styles theory, you’re likely to teach everything multiple ways (visually, auditorily, kinesthetically). That is, you’re giving students three distinct cues to access a particular memory.

This strategy WILL help students learn better, but NOT because some are visual learners and others are auditory learners.

If this explanation is true, then we have to go beyond “the theory is wrong.” We need to say “this part of the theory works for this reason, and that part works for that reason. But, the theory itself isn’t correct.”

That message requires more nuance, but might be more effective in persuading teachers — and schools of education — to update their understandings of teaching and learning.


A note on credit. I believe that this “mostly false but partly true” hypothesis comes from The Learning Scientists’ blog. Alas, I haven’t been able to locate the precise source. Credit for this idea shouldn’t go to me, but … at the moment of writing this post … I can’t determine who really gets it. I’ll update the post once I find out.


[Updated 6-7-19] Yana Weinstein-Jones has helpfully pointed me to the Learning Scientists source. It is this blog post, by Carolina Kuepper-Tetzel. I recommend it highly.

Right Brained Language Learning (And Other Reasons to Ignore Brain Myths)
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

As you know from reading this blog, cognitive psychology offers teachers dozens of helpful ideas.

We’re all better teachers when we enhance executive function and foster attention and manage working memory load.

Alas, over the years, many brain myths have gathered to clutter our thinking.

No, we don’t use only 10% of our brains.

No, the “learning pyramid” doesn’t tell you anything useful. (It doesn’t even make sense.)

No, learning styles aren’t a thing.

“Left-Brained” Skepticism

You might think I’m using my “rational, left-brained thinking skills” to offer these skeptical opinions.

Alas, the whole left brain/right brain distinction is itself another myth.

In some cases, brain functions happen more on one side of the brain than the other. But, even when we’re undertaking that particular function, we’re using brain regions from all over to get the mental job done.

A case in point…

“Lateralized” Language. Or, not.

Dedicated left-brain/right-brain advocates often point to language function to make their case.

For instance, Broca’s area — which helps us produce coherent speech — is in the left hemisphere. (So is Wernicke’s area, which helps us understand speech.)

Given these truths, they argue that speech is a “lateralized” brain function. In other words, it takes place in one hemisphere of the brain, not the other.

This claim, however, suffers from several flaws.

In the first place, Broca’s area is in the left hemisphere for 95% of right-handed people. But, that’s not 100%. And, that percentage falls to 50% for left-handed people.

Not so left-lateralized after all.

A second problem: language learning requires lots of right-hemisphere participation.

In a recent study, activity in the right hemisphere predicted participants’ later success in learning Mandarin. In fact, “enhanced cross-hemispheric resting-state connectivity [was] found in successful learners.”

Phrases like “cross-hemispheric resting-state connectivity ” might cause your eyes to glaze over. But, this key point jumps out: we can’t meaningfully ascribe language function to one hemisphere or another.

All complex mental activities require activation across the brain.

Teaching Implications

If you get teaching advice that you should do XYZ because a particular mental function takes place in a particular hemisphere: STOP.

Almost certainly, this claim

a) isn’t meaningfully accurate, and

b) comes from sources who don’t know as much about brains as they think they do.

Instead, ask yourself: does this guidance make sense even without claims about lateralization.

If yes, go ahead! If no, don’t bother.

In other words: use your whole brain and be skeptical.

Fool Me Twice, Shame on Me
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

We often post about the unreliability of “brain training.”

Heck, even though I live in Boston and am a Patriots fan, I made fun of Tom Brady’s website claiming to “increase brain speed” and other such nonsense. (I don’t even know what “increase brain speed” might mean.)

So, you think I’d be especially wary of these claims. But, even I can fall into such traps — at least temporarily. Last week, it happened TWICE.

Fool Me Once

Many researchers have claimed to be able to increase working memory capacity.

(It would be great if we could do so, because working memory is so important for all classroom learning.)

Alas, very consistently, we find that such programs don’t really work. (For instance, here and here.)

And so, I was very excited to see a new approach to the problem.

We have long known that the cerebellum helps control motor function. More recently, scientists have discovered that it also supports working memory performance.

Perhaps, we could strengthen cerebellar function, and that way enhance WM. Worth a try, no?

Although this explanation makes good sense, and the accompanying graphs looked impressive, I was drawn up short by a serious problem: the researchers didn’t measure working memory.

You read that right. Instead of a WM test, they gave participants a short-term memory test.

So, this research shows that cerebellar training might increase STM. But, it shows nothing about WM.

Brain training hopes dashed…

Fool Me Twice

Unlike WM training, we have had some luck with attention training.

For instance, Green and Bavalier have shown that playing certain computer games can increase various kinds of visual attention.

A recent study claimed that a specially designed iPad game could enhance sustained visual attention. I was gearing up to review the research so I could write about it here, when…

I learned that the test to measure students’ attention was very similar to the game itself. (H/t: Michael Kane)

In other words: participants might have gotten better because they (basically) practiced the test, not because their sustained attention improved.

To measure such progress, researchers would need a test that wasn’t similar to the game participants played.

Brain training hopes re-dashed…

The Big Take Away for Teachers

I’m basically an optimistic person, and I really don’t like being a grinch.

But, sometimes my job requires me to be grinchy.

At this point, I’ve been inspired by “brain training” claims so many times, only to be disappointed by an analysis of the research underlying those claims.

So, from now on, I’m just going to assume that new claims are highly likely to be false.

If brain training claims are subsequently replicated by many research teams; if the methodologies are scrutinized and approved by several scholars in the field; well, if that happens, I’ll relent.

For now, I don’t want to be fooled again.