Demotivating

Any English teacher in Japan can read the following quotations and identify with the ideas:

…during the years between elementary school and high school, many students disengage from English and don’t regain their interest—to the detriment of their later schooling, and even their adult careers…

…by [the end of the first year of middle school], the pupils described English as less valuable than they had [at the beginning of the year], and reported that they were investing less effort and persistence in the subject than they had before…

Except that these quotations were not taken from a study on student attitudes and motivations toward English in Japan, but rather math in Australia. I just lifted and altered the quotations from a recent Mind/Shift blog posting that introduced a large study done in Australia by a University of Sydney professor named Andrew Martin. He and his colleagues looked at 1601 learners in 200 math classrooms in 33 schools. The similarities to English in Japan are powerful, however.

The two graphs above are from a 2009 study done by Benesse in Japan. The top one shows the results of a question that asked when learners in jr high felt most positive/motivated to learn English. Look at the two first numbers, the second highest and the highest on the graph. The first one is “just before classes started in jr high 1st grade” and the second one is “right when classes started in jr high 1st grade”. By summer of first year, only three months after beginning formal English education (these learners did not have regular/formal English classes in elementary school), the course/curriculum/teachers/textbook had managed to obliterate more than 90% of the delicate innate motivation these learners were feeling. And they never got it back. Not even close.

The second graph may help to explain the first one a little. It shows the responses to the question, “Are you good or bad at English?” Only 8 % say they are really good  at English. 29.5% say they are sort of good at it. 32.5% say they are sort of bad at it. And a larger-than-should-be 29.3 % state theyare really bad at it. We should be getting something more bell-curvsey here, I think; instead we get a pile of academic corpses in our lower regions. Somebody is doing something wrong almost everyone agrees.

Perhaps Mr Martin et al can help. The number one factor they determined in getting kids interested in maths was facilitating self-efficacy, that magical, elusive feeling that one is competent and able to solve problems. They suggest fostering this by restructuring learning to offer opportunities for success. Success is motivating. I couldn’t agree more, but jr high schools in Japan are so much in the business of separating learners out along the continuum that they don’t offer enough of these opportunities. It seems rather that schools give large numbers of low scores deliberately, like  switches to the backs of  heads of meditating monks  losing concentration. It works sometimes, but with many learners it does not. Many learners can only take getting hit with low scores so often before they give up. It doesn’t have to be this way.  Language, unlike math, can be successful without being completely correct. But in most jr high schools, communicative success is not rewarded. Close on English test question answers,  unlike hand grenades and horseshoes, does not count. When the spelling is wrong, the answer is wrong. Wrong, period. No points. And when the answer is different from the one in the text book (Wrong: this is the train to Machida; Correct: this is the  train for Machida, for example) it’s WRONG. NO POINTS.

The Australian math motivation researchers also found positive effects for family and school cultures that intrinsically valued math. That is, the learners got a clear message that math was important and math learning was important. When we try to apply this finding to English in Japan, we find some differences. Kids and (probably especially) their parents are embedded in a culture where doing well at English (not necessarily learning English as a language) is seen as a way to get into a better high school. Doing well at school has become the rationale for learning the language. They (the parents) expect their kids to actually pick up English later in their academic careers, but in jr high, they want them to learn vocabulary, reading, and test-taking skills. I can understand this up to a point–getting into a high school is a super important event in someone’s life and academic career. But wouldn’t you want your kid to learn to swim if they took swimming lessons, instead of memorizing the size of the pool and the names of the muscles involved in the activity? Wouldn’t you want your kid to get in the water sometimes? As the parent of a recent jr high graduate in Japan, I have been witness to this sorry condition, though I am sort of lucky in that I never expected the school to teach my daughter English; she’s mostly bilingual, and as a native English speaker and an EFL teacher, I have resources. But I feel sorry for the other students in her classes. They get an endless stream of seemingly discreet particles of the language that they just have to process and remember accurately. They never make meaning. Mistakes are never forgiven. They never feel progress, except when they do well on that high school entrance exam. And then it’s on to the next level. They never get the chance to realize that learning a language offers opportunities for expanding your world, meeting people, and exploring yourself. They just come away with the message that English is hard and they are not good at it–though all that has really been proven at that point is that they are not good at memorizing which letters go in which order and which words go in which order in short meaningless sentences. Oh, and they learn what a painful and pedestrian slog workbooks and classes are, and how juku (cram school) can drill that crap into you if you give up your free time and your parents can part with a lot of cash.

In many ways, Mr Martin’s finding could be more easily put to work with English than with math. Letting learners experience success is much easier. It is easier for partial, or flawed, or broken communication to still be successful communication. But it will take a mindset shift, definitely. In Julie Dirksen’s book on instructional design called Design for How People Learn (click here for my review) she has one chapter on designing for knowledge and one on designing for skills. The approach to each is fundamentally different. Designing for skills acknowledges that it is much more of a process, and it requires more practice and more formative feedback. Jr high school teachers do not seem to be approaching English as a skill, but rather as knowledge. That is both the crux of the problem and the opportunity for change.

 

 

Making Teaching and Learning More Effective: Julie Dirksen’s Design For How People Learn

This wonderful book by Julie Dirksen (New Riders, 2012) manages to do something that is very difficult: it is compact yet comprehensive, and it takes some fairly difficult topics and makes them clear and memorable. It is aimed at online instructional designers, but only in the most general way. It is a book about human learning–goals, gaps, memory, attention, skills, motivation, and environmental considerations–and it organizes and explains those topics in a way that will entertain you, refresh your memory, and help you to put knowledge to effective use, whether you are going to apply that knowledge or explain it to others. It covers the basics, but I’m pretty confident in saying that it has just the right level of detail to appeal to almost any educator. Even seasoned instructional designers will find something for them in it. Different people will enjoy it for different but overlapping reasons: for it’s readability, for its “stickiness“, for its concise explanations.

I teach EFL teachers, or at least I try to, and I often find myself trying to distill research findings in such manner that our session participants can “see” it. That is, I want the teachers who come to our sessions to understand the concepts and recognize how they work in a class. Ms. Dirksen’s book does that brilliantly well. She has a genius–yes, genius–for explaining things and I am going to borrow some of her metaphors for upcoming training sessions this year. At the end of each chapter there is a Summary section, as there is with other books. But here, instead of working my way through the list trying to recall the various points, I found myself jumping from point to point–check, got it, check, check, check, got’em. I could mentally have written the points myself, that’s how well they had stuck with me. There is a lot of Kathy Sierra (Creating Passionate Users blog) in this book and in Ms. Dirksen’s approach, something that she clearly acknowledges, and that is not a criticism. (If you like her blog posts, you’re pretty likely to enjoy this book. And if you have never visited her blog, go take a look).

If I ran the circus, I would make this book mandatory for all teachers. At this point in time, I do believe there is not a better summary of current understanding of the psychology of learning as it applies to teaching situations. Do yourself a favor and get this book. I promise you won’t be sorry. Ms. Dirksen’s blog is also very good, and she is a very dependable Twitterer. In the world of educational design, she’s a good person to have in your corner.

Playful and Powerful: Stephen Anderson Makes You Think About Seductive Interaction Design

I found Seductive Interaction Design: Creating Playful, Fun, and Effective User Experiences (New Riders, 2011) through a post on Julie Dirkson’s blog, where she introduced a set of cards that Mr. Anderson had developed to help designers in a pinch. Each card contains a design feature (he calls them Mental Notes) you can use to influence users. You flip a card over and think about whether you can incorporate that feature into your design. Perhaps piquing curiosity will help, one card suggests. Or maybe the bystander effect could help you. I went to Mr Anderson’s website to find out more and saw this book. Assuming that the cards would be contained in the book–they aren’t, though you do get an introduction and a few examples, and if you shake the content of the book up and reorganize it, you can probably replicate the content of the cards–I ordered the book. And even though I didn’t get the cards, I’m really glad I ordered the book.

The metaphor used to organize the content is a relationship–a couple at the beginning of a relationship flirting and playing as they try to get to know each other better. There is a dollop of uncertainty and a dash of excitement. It is a social process and a psychological process. It is a process of discovery played out with heightened attention to detail. It is a two-way process and each side has goals and needs and is trying to influence and motivate the other to do something. If we remove the sexual part of the metaphor–and Mr Anderson carefully does in the first unit–it is a good metaphor for advertisers attempting to influence buyers, web designers trying to influence clickers, and teachers trying to influence learners. It also highlights the focus in the book on those first few critical stages in engagement with content. The first interaction with a website is Mr. Anderson’s particular area of expertise, but much of what he says can be applied to any interaction with something new, particularly in educational settings. Indeed, he begins his book with a design feature that got people to use the stairs more at a train station in Sweden.

The book is primarily aimed at web interaction designers, but there is enough educational psychology here to keep any language teacher busy in the 25 chapters arranged in 4 sections. Teachers are not used to thinking of our (mostly) captive learners as needing to be “seduced” into doing what they need to do to learn a language, but the reality is that learners in classrooms vote with their attentional resources and behaviors as much as fickle web surfers do with their mouse clicks. This book will help you to make lessons more fun and effective, with an emphasis on fun because lessons will not be so effective if they are not fun first.

This book is not going to give you an overview of how to construct a complete user/learner experience (for that see my review of Julie Dirksen’s book). It is more about tweaking the details–though they are often fundamental details–to make things more attractive and effective. But it is a very thorough look at the details, with thought-provoking ideas. His section on gamification is particularly good, for example, and you will come away with a more complete understanding of the concept, I’m sure. In many other parts of the book, he deals pretty much with particulars that he has found important, using lots of examples and drawing on his rich experience.

It’s a fun ride, brilliant in many places, and my mind lit up with ideas as I read it. I just wish it had a deck of those cards attached to the back cover…

Where is the Joy?

 

 

We have been trying to come up with a checklist we can use in teacher observations ( for HS teachers of English in Japan). It’s been harder than I imagined. We want to help teachers and their students. But any list of criteria always reflects the preferences of its creators. It reflects an assessment. It reflects an agenda.

After observing many classes last year, I came away with a few depressing impressions, one of which–sorry–was that I am so glad I am not a student in any of those classes. OK, not all, but many…um, no…most. The classes that were pleasant experiences generally achieved this through the power of the performance personality of the teacher. It was the teacher’s jokes, movement in the classroom, and energy that drove the lessons. The same syllabus taught by another teacher would probably have resulted in another snoozer.  I know it is difficult to separate  teachers from their lesson plans, but if we do that and stand back, some rather distinct features emerge.

  •  Teachers don’t have enough confidence in their own English; and/or have great difficulty effectively using English in the classroom even when their English skills are extremely good (more on this in a future post…)
  • There is a clear preference for efficiency at the expense of process (that is, activities are tweaked to make them faster, smoother, and more efficient to set up and conduct in the classroom, to get all learners to move quickly at the same pace)
  • Control is always with the teacher (it is full-frontal presentation and explanation-based instruction)
  • Learners are not given opportunities to experiment with the language (meaning-focused output-based activities are extremely rare; there are always clear correct answers in activities)
  • And there is very little joy in the classes (with many sleeping or distracted students and very low levels of student energy or participation); emotions are rare ( rarely are textbook stories milked for their emotional resonance); and only briefly did I get any sense of the shared journey of learning the class was making
In a single sentence, there is a preference for teacher-centered cognitively efficient classes. So when we tried to make our observation checklist (dripping with our own preferences and agenda, and functionally short), these are the categories we went with:
  1. Viscerally Engaging?
  2. Cognitively Engaging?
  3. Communicative?
  4. Pedagogically Sound?
  5. Creative?
  6. Secure?
You might disagree with some of the items or the weighting of some concepts, but this list represents a view that classes should be more interesting and fun and communicative. Some of the sections are very general, to be sure. Each one would really take a book or a course or two to understand. And feedback is not addressed. So, yes, it is still a work in progress.
There is more and more recognition of the role of affect in education. There is also greater recognition that learning should be a joyful experience. A recent article in the Mind/Shift blog looked at some recent research from Finland. The authors of a study described in the article (Rantala and Määttä) tried to identify what produces joy in the classroom:

No doubt many pupils would agree with this example of their findings: “The joy of learning does not include listening to prolonged speeches.” Such teacher-centric lessons are much less likely to generate joy than are lessons focused on the student, the authors report. The latter kind of learning involves active, engaged effort on the part of the child; joy arrives when the child surmounts a series of difficulties to achieve a goal.

They also mention there is greater joy when learners are allowed to work at their own level and when they are allowed to play more (the study looked at elementary school students).

This is hard to do. It is hard to set up an activity that is a doable challenge for learners and then let them experience achieved success. It is especially hard when probably no one in the room–teacher or student–has ever experienced this kind of lesson before. It also hard to let learners work at their own pace when exam periods are fixed. And making things playful or game-like is also more difficult than just assigning points and keeping score (as Stephen Anderson makes clear in this presentation or his book, Seductive Interaction Design).

For a more scholarly approach to the topic of emotions, google Antonio Damasio, Helen Immordino-Yang, or Kurt Fischer to get a wide variety of articles, or look at any of the neuroscience and learning initiatives that have come online recently). There is also  this article on Cognition Affect and Learning by Barry Kort. It looks at stories and emotions among other things. And here is a link from the Eide Neurolearning blog that gives a nice summary of humor and affect in learning and links to several other resources.

Changing from an approach that focuses on cognitive efficiency to one that focuses on greater learner control of the process of learning will not be easy. But the increasing number of studies  coming out that highlight the need for greater consideration of emotions and the social nature of learning are pointing to a shift in pedagogy. Adding humor to lessons is much easier to do right away. Taking inspiration from Apple’s slogan: Think quirky, think playful.

 

 

Harnessing the Wave: BJ Fogg on Motivation

This audio and slide presentation from a recent keynote extends BJ Fogg’s work on motivation and habits. If you are unfamiliar with his ideas and resources, take a look at his group’s website, particularly the resources page (and particularly the Behavior Model and Behavior Grid).

The talk here focuses on leveraging periods of higher motivation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have seen graphs showing the motivation of students learning English in Japan. There are peaks and there are troughs (mostly one big peak at the beginning, followed by one long depressing trough. If BJ Fogg is right, then it means that teachers should be doing some very important things at the beginning of term, especially with first year students. I wonder how many make the “mistake” of putting off instituting new behaviors and actions that will facilitate future behaviors in the those first precious weeks of April.

Labs for Learning

One of the great things about the convergence of higher education and the Internet is the existence of websites for labs. Below are some that are great for teachers trying to stay up to date with recent research. Many thanks to the generous people who make their research available this way.

The Mindalab at the University of Western Ontario does research on categorization, learning, and affect that I have found both fascinating and useful.

The Brain and Creativity Institute as USC is where you can find work by Antonio Damasio and Mary Helen Immordino-Yang and other very bright and readable researchers.

The Approach-Avoidance Motivation Research Group at the University of Rochester has some interesting research on motivation and cultural differences.

The Dynamic Development Lab at Harvard headed by Kurt Fischer has lots of great content that can impact teaching practices.

A Trolley Named Desire

OK, everybody knows the little trolley  thought experiment, right? It even has a Wikipedia page, which I shall now quote liberally from:

A trolley  is running out of control down a track. In its path are five people who have been tied to the track by a mad philosopher [or workers working on a track in the less dramatic version I first  heard]. Fortunately, you could flip a switch, which will lead the trolley down a different track to safety. Unfortunately, there is a single person tied to that track. Should you flip the switch or do nothing?

And so most people say they would indeed flip the switch and sacrifice one for the safety of the five. But then comes the second version (the description of which at Wikipedia  is under the rather blunt  heading “The fat man”:

As before, a trolley is hurtling down a track towards five people. You are on a bridge under which it will pass, and you can stop it by dropping a heavy weight in front of it. As it happens, there is a very fat man next to you – your only way to stop the trolley is to push him over the bridge and onto the track, killing him to save five. Should you proceed?

And most people recoil at the thought. Hmm, smile the ethical philosophers, you do realize that the two scenarios are identical, do you not? Killing one saves the five. But there is a difference and an important one that keeps bringing people back to this problem. Michael Sandel uses it to start his wildly-popular course on Justice (available online here, BTW).   The difference between the problems makes you think. I am not alone in the reaction I had, judging from the opinions of Sandel’s students and the tabulated results of people answering the questions. I originally felt that the difference between just flipping a switch and actually running up to and grabbing, hoisting, and possibly forcing  a bewildered obese person over the bridge railing was enough difference to make me take a less active role in the second scenario.

But this morning, while reading David Eagleman’s engaging Incognito on the train to work, I read about the neuroscience take on the problem (also listed on the Wikipedia page as I discovered later). Eagleman introduces  Joshua Greene and Jonathon Cohen, who have done a lot of research on neuroethics, much of it in Greene’s Moral Cognition Lab at Harvard. According to them and the neuroscience perspective, the difference is that interacting with the fat man up close activates the emotional networks of the brain . The brain, Eagleman explains, is a “team of rivals” and two large groupings of rivals are the emotional and rational systems. In fMRI screenings of people considering the two trolley problems, the first scenario causes areas of the brain connected to rational thinking to be more active and the second scenario activates areas involved with motor planning and emotion.

Cognitive or emotional? Advertisers know the difference between these two systems well. And so do politicians. But in education, the cognitive is still everything. The  phrase that suddenly grew larger for me on the page this morning, the one that makes all the difference, is “personal interaction.” In re-thinking the classrooms of language lessons in Japan, I wonder if this is not the key issue. I think creating a cacophony of social/personal interaction to activate the emotional parts of the brain might be a goal for these classes, though  rational minds might recoil at such an approach. It seems fair to say that affect is woefully under-addressed in courses, coursebooks, and pedagogical literature (the latter probably because of the difficulty of doing research). There is this book, now 13 years old and counting, but much of the literature seems concerned primarily with reducing learner anxiety in the classroom. But in terms of neuroscience, 13 years is  a lifetime ago…Jane Arnold, the editor of Affect in Language Learning,  says on her website that” she is convinced that when teaching is affective it becomes more effective” but there seems to be little in the way of literature that really demonstrates that. I guess I’ll just need to keep looking.

 

Sept. 24, 2012 Update: This article from NPR reports on how the visual/emotional aspect of the second part of the trolley thought experiment makes it very different.

“Some dilemmas produce vivid images in our heads. And we’re wired to respond emotionally to pictures. Take away the pictures — the brain goes into rational, calculation mode.”

 

 

Understanding the Modular You: Robert Kurzban’s Why Everyone Else Is a Hypocrite

hypocrite

This reatively short and very entertaining book packs a message that can change the way we look at people and the minds that make us who we are. Robert Kurzban is an evolutionary psychologist. And in one long breath, here is his message: the mind is modular and it makes no sense to talk about “you” or “me” because there is no conscious, single, controlling “you” or “me” running the show inside our heads, and when”you” and “me” talk, it is basically my “press secretary” talking to your “press secretary,” one of many modules of our mind, modules that act with their own rhyme and reason and don’t necessarily talk to each other and aren’t necessarily aware of each other, but do act in a way that is in accordance to the goals for which the module was genetically selected for. Got that? Basically, it means that there are lots of parts of “you” and they do what they were designed (selected) to do, usually without regard for other parts of “you.” Behavioral inconsistencies can be explained through understanding this modular specialization structure of the brain. Deep down, I think we already know this. This is why people on diets lock their fridge doors at night, why George Reckers and Elliot Spitzer walk(ed) a different walk from their public talk, etc. But Kurzban’s theory–and he repeatedly states that it is an exploratory theory– is a way of conceptualizing how the mind can manage to be so blatantly contradictory, and as such it has great explaining power. People can hold very strong beliefs, impossibly contradictory beliefs, often for no reason. People can say one thing and do another, they can waffle between patience and impulsivity, have overinflated and unrealistic views of themselves (almost everyone, for example, believes themselves to be an above-average driver),  and hold others to high moral principles that they prefer not to apply to themselves. Seen through Kurzban’s evolutionary psychology spectacles, the selfish little modules trying to gain advantage any way they can form a logical–if depressingly dispicable–portait of the organisms we are.

Human_eyesight_two_children_and_ball_with_retinitis_pigmentosa_or_tunnel_vision

Aside from being an interesting and  entertaining read, this hand-grenade of a book may eventually shake a lot of long-held belief fruit out of the trees that social psychologists and behavioral economists have been feeding from for years. For example, the notion that motivation and  preferences are fairly constant (two that have long bothered me personally), are debunked pretty thoroughly here. Quoting LIchtenstein and Slovic (2006b): preferences “…are labile, inconsistent, subject to factors we are unaware of, and not always in our own best interests. Indeed, so pervasive is that lability that the very notion of a ‘true’ preference must, in many situations, be rejected.” What this means, is that things like motivation and preferences are more complex than we think they are now; different modules of the brain work differently “depending on context, state, and history,” and they–“we”– aren’t aware of it. So instead of constant motivations or preferences held by an individual, we should probably think of people as collections of independently-acting modules, each module  “…designed to bring about certain states or affairs.” Motivation is a design to bring about a goal, but it is better conceptualized as a bunch of design goals located in a bunch of modules. The L2 Self may be not much more than a handful of sand. Actually, I don’t think the implications of Kurzban’s theory go that far, but at the least, we have to acknowledge that we are only looking at a small part of an individual whenever we look at him, no matter how closely.

Jane McGonigal’s Thoughts on Gaming

Global gamers

On February 3rd, Jane McGonigal appeared on The Colbert Report. This woman has an opinion that you might be interested in. Because it is weird. Count. Er. Intu. Itive. Interesting. Weird. She is a game designer and wants the world to play more games and thinks that if people play more, this will contribute to solving the world’s problems. Let’s unwrap this a bit, starting with some statistics she points out in her TED talk of March, 2010.

People in the world play 3 billion hours of games each week.

World of Warcraft players have logged in 5.93 million years of game play to date. The average WoW player plays for 21 hours a week.

The average young person “in countries with strong gaming cultures” will spend 10,000 hours of time playing games by the age of 21.

Let that soak in for a moment. Then think about this: 10,000 hours roughly equals the total amount of time we spend in school K-12. Gaming, she says, represents “a parallel track of education.” And 10,000 hours is a term widely being used as a rough estimate of how many hours of effortful study are required for mastery of a skill (I first heard of it in Scientific American’s The Expert Mind written by Philip Ross in August 2006, but if you Google “10,000 hours of effortful study”, you’ll see how widely used this number has become).

Back to Jane. She says, gamers are getting good at or have developed a bond with 4 things:

  • Urgent optimism (or extreme self-motivation to tackle obstacles immediately, coupled with a belief in success)
  • Weaving a tight social fabric (playing games together builds trust)
  • Blissful productivity (gaming is actually “hard work” and gamers are willing to do it)
  • Epic meaning (the feeling of working towards meaningful goals–i.e., save the world)

Gaming creates “super-empowered hopeful individuals.” How can these people and this energy, this time, and this skill be put to use in improving the world? That is her question. She thinks it is possible and she is working on it now. By getting people to play games about life-connected issues, you can effect change. She thinks that challenging immersive experiences can be life-changing. Here is her TED talk. And here is Evoke, one of the games she helped develop.

Jane McGonigal’s blog

Edward Castronova’s blog (Indiana University professor of Telecommunications with a focus on games and social issues)

Motivational Effects that Defy 3: The Placebo Effect

This is the 3rd post in a series on motivational effects that concern expectations. In previous posts I looked at the Hawthorne effect and the Pygmalion effect. My interest in these was raised when I learned of them while searching for the possibility that people had looked into the Placebo effect in education.This time I would like to look at the Placebo effect, the one that originally got me interested in this trilogy.

badscience

So there I was, happily making my way through Ben Goldacre’s wonderful oughtta-read Bad Science, in which he is gleefully ripping into little shreds the reputations of detox artists, brain gym evangelists, homeopathic medicine promoters, and other quacks and hacks, when right in the middle of his book I come across a chapter on the placebo effect. In that chapter he takes us on a tour of this “fascinating, misunderstood… and counter-intuitive aspect of  human healing”. You can hear him sum up much of the chapter here in 5 minutes: sugar pills have effects, 4 sugar pills have more effect than 2, ‘brand’ placebo pills have more effect than generic ones, and a placebo injection or operation has more effect than a placebo pill because it is a more dramatic intervention. But there is more: what a doctor says and what a doctor believes when providing care can affect the outcome; and a placebo diagnosis of expectation of improvement can affect that improvement.

And the more people look for the placebo effect in the medical world, the more they find it; and the more they begin to look for the mechanism through brain imaging studies, etc., the more it begins to reveal itself. Here is a documentary showing some dramatic examples and some studies into the possible mechanisms at work. Fascinating stuff, but it’s time to make our segue back to the world of education.

One study that Goldacre recounts in his chapter  concerns a certain group of housekeepers at a hotel. They were divided into two groups and one group was told about the benefits of exercise and had pointed out to them the fact that they were sort of super-exercisers because of the line of work they were in. Four weeks later, both groups reported that they were doing the same amount of work (or “exercise!”), but the group that had received the information about the health benefits of their work now showed a decrease in weight and body fat, and an improvement in hip-to-waist ratio (Crum & Langer, 2007). This is mind-boggling. And it got me thinking about whether such Jedi mind tricks might be able to work in education. The beauty of Crum and Langer’s experiment is also sort of a stumbling block: they didn’t do anything beyond point something out. In an educational setting this would be difficult to replicate, since the teachers would be teaching, and the students would have lots of ways to adjust performance.

The closest thing I could find (and if you know of anything else, I’d love to hear about it) was an experiment on changing performance by changing mindsets. Blackwell, Trzesniewski and Dweck (2007) found that just informing junior high school students that the brain is like a muscle and that academic “exercise” can bring about improved academic ability got them to improve their academic performance. Even just a one-shot lecture by some university experts was enough to make a difference and make them believe in the “growth mindset”. Readers of the previous two posts in this series might now be wondering whether this experiment represents the Placebo effect, the Hawthorne effect, or the Pygmalion effect. To be honest, things are getting pretty blurry for me as well. We could argue that the researchers haven’t really done anything for the learners. That is, they haven’t made changes in the curriculum or run extra lessons with them. They have, however, pointed out an opportunity for improvement and–importantly–an expectation of success.  And they’ve definitely shown an interest in their improvement. I mean, the students would of course infer that these university researchers wouldn’t be there if they didn’t think they had something that would be effective, right? I think it might not be wrong to say that the same underlying mechanism–whatever that is–is at work in all these effects. Someone is watching you, someone is interested in your performance, someone believes you can do better.

Taking this idea further,  believing and higher expectations, coupled with a more rigorous curriculum can lead to significantly better performance. Anecdotal evidence suggests it can, anyway. Heath and Heath in their book Switch report on the success of a first grade language arts teacher in Atlanta who motivated her class and dramatically improved their performance on standardized tests by telling them that they would be reading like third graders by the end of the school year. That is, they were told and convinced that they would be not just  successful first graders,  and not even second graders, nope, they were going to advance to the level of third graders! And they did. At the end of the year, 90% of the class was reading at the 3rd grade level or higher. Perhaps we all need to push the envelope a little, while at the same time communicating our expectations of success. Certainly this is an idea worthy of more classroom research and larger-scale research.

I love the Placebo effect. I love the fact that it has been subjected to rigorous testing and found to hold true. The fact that it remains a little mysterious only adds to its charm. No doubt there are explanations for the phenomena and one day they will be widely known and appreciated, but for now it is enough to know of it and have some fun with it. It can be dangerous, too, for placebo side effects have been observed and the dangers of pigeon-holing learners must be acknowledged as well. But for teachers, deftly making use of our authority and making assertions that can lead to improvement is part of our job. Doctors don’t always understand why something gets better and teachers don’t always know how something gets learned. Understanding the Placebo effect and making it work for us is one of the things we can do. It comes with the position.

Sept. 2011 Update.

A recent Brain Science podcast interview with Fabrizio Benedetti looked at placebo effects. Dr. Ginger Campbell and Dr. Benedetti discussed what placebo effects (notice the ‘s’) are and are not, what other effects they can be confused with, and the mechanisms that are at work behind the effects. Here is a quote from episode:

  I would say that the take-home message for clinicians, for physicians, for all health
professionals is that their words, behaviors, attitudes are very important, and
move a lot of molecules in the patient’s brain. So, what they say, what they do in
routine clinical practice is very, very important, because the brain of the patient
changes sometimes. As you said, of course, there is a reduction in anxiety; but we
know that there is a real change. There is a real change in the patient’s brain
which is due to—in a single sentence, we can call it the ‘ritual of the therapeutic
act.’
The ritual of the therapeutic act is very complex. In the ritual of the therapeutic
act there is a doctor; in the ritual of the therapeutic act there are drugs, there are
syringes. Sometimes there are very complex machines, like an MRI machine, for
example. All these social and sensory stimuli constitute what we call the ‘ritual of
the therapeutic act;’ and the ritual of the therapeutic act communicates and tells
the patients that a therapy is being performed. And this is very important
because it induces expectation in the patient. So, absolutely, it is very, very
important for a clinician.

Audio, transcripts, references, and notes are available at the podcast’s website. Dr. Benedetti is the author of two books on this topic, Placebo Effects, and The Patient’s Brain.

 

March, 2013 Update.

A recent study described here in the Research Digest shows how a type of placebo–a bogus priming method–can result in better performance on quizzes. Researchers named Ulrich Weger and Stephen Loughnan got a group of mostly 20-yr-olds to believe they were being subliminally primed with test question answers before the questions appeared on the screen. In fact, nothing was shown, but that didn’t stop them from scoring significantly better than the control group. The researchers say this:

The placebo intervention “cannot have expanded the individual’s knowledge or storage capacities,” the researchers said. “What is more likely to have happened is a weakening of inhibitory mechanisms that normally impair performance on a task – for example, self-incapacitating anxieties that previously taxed cognitive resources.” The placebo might also have “primed a success orientation,” the researchers said, which may have affected the participants’ behaviour accordingly, including increasing their persistence.

The study was small and needs to be replicated, but this is indeed another strange and wonderful example of the placebo effect. The researchers plan to next investigate whether it can work without the participants  being fooled.

 

Crum, A., Langer, E. (2007). Mind-set matters: Exercise and the placebo effect. Psych Science 18, no. 2 (Feb). Pg 165-71.

Blackwell, L. A., Trzesniewski, K. H., & Dweck, C. S. (2007). Theories of intelligence and achievement across the junior high school transition: A longitudinal study and an intervention. Child Development, 78, 246-263.