Using Words Against Us

"Pow!"
A powerful word.

On Monday, POTUS followed a familiar pattern. Upon his apparent exoneration of accusations of treason, he accused his accusers of “treasonous” actions.

President Trump went on the offensive on Monday a day after the special counsel investigation reported no conspiracy with Russia, suggesting that critics who pursued such suspicions were “treasonous,” guilty of “evil things” and should be investigated themselves. – NYT

This action follows his long-standing behavior of accusing his political opponents of having the same deficiencies they attribute to him. In other, the President’s retort is often the schoolyard taunt “no I’m not, but you are.” Is it any wonder he is often accused of behaving like a child?

This “strongman” behavior lacks civility, rationality, and charm while appealing to our cognitive biases—or what we might call our “reflexive pettiness.” Here’s a few examples:

  • Confirmation bias – If you thought the President was innocent all along—or believe in vast government conspiracies—you’re more likely than ever to believe the accusations against the President were fake from the beginning.
  • Mean World Theory – If you watch a lot of conspiratorial TV, you’re more likely to believe that the world is corrupt. In this case, that’s anyone who chooses to take legal action against the President.
  • Self-serving bias – Already a fan of the President? You’re more likely to attribute the actions of his accusers to faults in their character, and your ability to determine the facts as a result of your intelligence.

Though subtle, the battery of accusations that flows from the President often lands its intended affect. This seems especially true of his “base,” who generally support his worldview.

To ameliorate these effects of cognitive biases, we can reflect on the motivations behind our perspectives, judgments, and accusations. Are we being fair, just, and unbiased? (Or are we just piling on?)

Immersion: When Media is Educational

Sure, video games are immersive, but are they educational? Only to a very small extent. Educators have been pursuing the connections between immersive media like gaming and education for decades, but I want to offer another perspective: learners have to be suspended between being gamers and game-makers. Here’s a brief reflection on how that can happen…

Put Away the Video Games

Games are really only interesting in small doses. So if you’re going to use them for broader educational purpose, keep it short. This same advice applies to many other activities as well: hooks, icebreakers, brainstorms, research, and perhaps even reading. When it comes to ambitious learning goals, how long does it take until we get bored? Are all engaging educational experiences short in duration? (And is this a feature rather than a bug?)

If we contrast active and exciting learning experiences with more conventional lecture-style information delivery, let’s say the best experiences are the short ones. (Even traditional teacher-led experiences collapse after about 50 minutes, though there is evidence that more interaction is perceived as better.) Is formal education—educational experience that spirals and requires significant exposure to achieve significant recall—ever likely to permanently achieve the velocity to escape boredom for most students most of the time? It seems unlikely, but what if the answer was that it could

Dynamic Interventions

Teaching often begins with a presentation or a group activity—activities that help individuals explore new ideas while confronting factual information from experts or authoritative sources. A part of our jobs as “producers” in the Learning Theater is to bridge events (and our event partners) from the present into a better-designed-built-environment future.

In the past two years at EdLab, we have begun experimenting with what I will call “dynamic interventions.” These are generally small multimedia gestures that connect classroom activities:  a soundtrack, a light cue, an introductory video for an activity, or a background image. The Learning Theater has enabled us to manipulate the built environment in both subtle and dramatic ways during a face-to-face learning experiences. Using light, sound, video, props, and furnishings, we have built many multimedia experiences to enhance what began as more ordinary learning scenarios.

Adding multimedia to an educational experience is not always the right thing. (As in all design, sometimes simple is better.) But increasingly we’re seeing the blending of “simple” and “multimedia” moments as creating the optimal conditions for sustaining learning over the course of an hour, an afternoon, a day, or longer.

Recent events have given us more confidence to steer our partners toward building dynamic interventions into their plans, and I’m excited to see where these efforts lead. But it won’t just be a matter of adding “fun” and “exciting” multimedia moments into lectures that optimizes learning. The learners are going to be active participants in the process of design and execution.

Immersion

I think “immersion” is a helpful word to describe this enhanced educational experience. Often used in language learning to describe a situation where learner can’t help but be confronted with educationally rich experience, it also comes to us with a sense that the learner is sustained in a state of flow. How can that happen?

Only learners can ultimately tell us what they need. Do they need a break? Do they need a boost of energy? Do they need time to reflect and write? Or time to talk together? Involving learners in the ebb and flow of educational experience with dynamic interventions will raise the stakes. Educators can offer learners an environment, but learners will need to activate it.

Collaboration is a key element of dynamic interventions we’ve made so far. (Learning is often more fun together!) With respect to collaborative activities, learners are really asked to be both participants and educators—taking an active role in their colleagues’ learning. Dynamic interventions can help support learners in both their roles by giving their work new contexts as an activity unfolds—and in a highly aesthetic way. Ultimately, I imagine that the suspension of learners between these different orientations can best sustain a flow experience. Time will tell…

Alas, we are just beginning to explore the possibilities of this exciting—and I think somewhat novel, or at least technologically-heightened—nexus of knowledge, creativity, and learning.

What are ways do you think we can further (or best) support the development and sharing of these ideas and our toolset?

A “Story Genome” Project

random.genome
A visual representation of a human genome.

How do the stories we read, hear, or come to know make us who we are?

What if we could track and annotate how these stories constitute our identity and behavior? (Or perhaps rather our rational deliberations?)

If we had a map of that similar to the mapping of genomes, could that be a useful educational tool? Or a tool for better understanding others?

I think we’d want to know and highlight the biggest influences and to see “storied” context of why they are our biggest influences—why they are meaningful to us.

The resulting map would constitute a different “story genome” for each person. It would be a quantified self tool that would require constant updating and revising. I think we could learn a lot about ourselves and others.

A Foundation of Lies

Disgust with criminals and their crimes is still possible, even in the case of three-star generals:

The judge was not upset only about Mr. Flynn’s sneaky prevarication. He said he felt “disgust” at Mr. Flynn’s offenses, that a retired three-star general would lie to the F.B.I. “while on the physical premises of the White House,” and, acting as an unregistered agent of a foreign country, Turkey, while he was an adviser to Mr. Trump (to which he admitted but was not charged). It was a bracing reminder of the brazenness of his misdeeds and of the standards the public should be able to expect of those who serve them. – The New York Times

What if the change you wanted to see in the world could only be brought about by liars and thieves? What kind of feedback would that be?

Double-edged Generosity

American elites are monopolizing progress, and monopolies can be broken. Aggressive policies to protect workers, redistribute income, and make education and health affordable would bring real change. But such measures could also prove expensive for the winners. Which gives them a strong interest in convincing the public that they can help out within the system that so benefits the winners.

– Anand Giridharadas from Beware Rich People Who Say They Want to Change the World

Social-democratic Capitalism

It’s true that Denmark doesn’t at all fit the classic definition of socialism, which involves government ownership of the means of production. It is, instead, social-democratic: a market economy where the downsides of capitalism are mitigated by government action, including a very strong social safety net.

– Paul Krugman from Something Not Rotten in Denmark

Living Versus Imagining

3pmxEidpWhat if one of the make-or-break achievements in life is learning how to grapple with the following challenge:

Live in the present, but imagine in the future.

What if that is much easier said than done? What does it take to really imagine in the future? How does one really assess the “present”?

What if the desire to align one’s actions/behaviors to an imagined future is really counterproductive? What if I could be undertaking much more productive projects if I committed more fully to a near-term agenda? (Is diversifying one’s actions a matter of hedging against an unknown future?)

And what if, instead of trying to imagine my way out of the present, I let me imagination wander more freely? What if I made grander assumptions about the future? Would that in fact help me choose better projects in the present? (Isn’t this really what I already do—but not really with much self-awareness?)

What’s a better direction to push in? Connect the present with the imagined? Or disentangle them further?

Isn’t it also a bit of a paradox to live without imagining the future? Where does the absurdity kick in? When I try to align my actions to things that haven’t yet taken place but could transpire in 10, 20, 30 or 100 years? And can one align one’s actions to things that seem unlikely to ever transpire? Would this be considered rational behavior?

It’s the economy.

A simple example that inspires this meditation is how financial markets allow investors to place bets on the future, thereby enabling businesses to use capital to make that future more likely to come transpire. Or money itself, really—an invention of human imagination that enables humans to align their actions in innovative and world-changing ways. We are able to use imagination to change the future—literally building the living conditions and constraints of not-yet-even-born humans.

This is both very banal (we determine the future!) and operationally unsettling (the quality of our imagination can determine every aspect of human livelihood!) in this matter. Particularly: how much can any one human really contribute to this reality-bending? And in a deeply pro-capitalist, anti-humanist society, how is the scale and scope of one’s contribution directly tied to their wealth?

We’re doomed?

What if we humans are just not that good at imagining complex things? (Or just not that good of thinking in general?) Or what if the humans that are good at imagining are systematically selected against (to lean on evolutionary terminology) when capital is distributed? Or what if the selection process that would eventually promote “good imaginers” (obviously a loaded notion) is just too slow?