Have you ever bought a book that you started but didn't finish, a piece of exercise equipment that is sitting unused in a closet or garage, watched the first part of a movie or TV show only to change the channel before the end, or purchased a piece of clothing that you only wore once? Were those items ever the result of a recommendation from an online retailer (who has access to our past viewing and purchasing habits)?
I've been thinking about this a lot recently. There seems to be a growing sentiment that higher education needs to move into the modern era lest it lose all relevance. In-person lecture classes are outdated and foreign to a generation of students raised on consumer-oriented apps like Amazon and Uber. To compete in this new modern era of smart phones and personalized experiences, we need to radically rethink the delivery of educational content, harness the power of learning analytics, and jettison all of the outmoded trappings of the past that we cling to for sentimental rather than practical reasons.
Or so the argument goes.
I'm not convinced that the path forward is as obvious or easy as others believe it to be. Take the case of recommender system, such as those used in Amazon or Netflix. It seems like a no-brainer to apply a recommender system approach to a course catalog ("Students who took Course A also took Course D.", "Based on your grade in Course C, here are other courses you might like."). Surely that would improve the student experience, right?
But courses are not movies or books. There are prerequisites and graduation requirements that need to be considered, not to mention availability and scheduling. And the feedback mechanism to improve the system moves at a much slower pace (it takes two hours to watch a movie, but 16 weeks to take a class). And, as suggested in the opening paragraph, just because we were recommended a product doesn't mean that we engaged with it once purchased.
Of course, we could re-envision how educational content is delivered. We could create a series of mini-courses that can be combined in various ways, with evaluation based on micro-credentialing or similar. But make no mistake -- that would be a huge lift. Amazon doesn't write the books it sells. You need sufficient inventory before you can make tailored recommendations.
What about the Uber model? It isn't based on recommendations per se, but rather the ability to connect travelers with willing drivers. This, of course, assumes that the traveler knows where they want to go, though they don't necessarily need to know how to get there. This is essentially what the current system provides -- a program of study leading to a particular degree, led by "willing drivers" (instructors). One could argue that Uber provides convenience -- a ride at anytime to where you need to go. Do our students know where they need to go next educationally? Who would be the "willing drivers" in the "any class, any time" model? (Uber decimated local taxi systems as it rolled out in cities.) What if the route to software engineer (their dream job) takes them through subjects that they are less interested in (advanced mathematics)? Do we give students the ability to vote down prerequisites they don't like? Should we allow them to cobble together any old set of classes they want and call it a degree?
I'm not saying that institutions of higher education shouldn't leverage modern technology to create more efficient processes to improve the student experience, and nothing in this post should be construed as being "anti-technology" or "anti-analytics." My point, rather, is that technology and analytics are not "solutions" but rather "tools" that can be leveraged (or not) in the service of improved educational outcomes that are based on more foundational (and often contested) beliefs around the appropriate role of institutions of higher education; the relationship between instruction and learning; the utility and meaning of prerequisites; the most efficient use of campus resources (financial, physical, and human); the appropriate assessment of educational "readiness," progress, and outcomes; and a whole host of others.
Unless careful and transparent consideration of those core issues is part of the mix, technology- or analytics-driven educational improvement efforts are likely doomed to failure. What presents itself in faculty meetings as "I'm not going to change how I teach" intransigence is not necessarily just an unreasonable unwillingness to embrace modernity; it may be a reflection those underlying, though largely unexamined, foundational beliefs.
A final caveat -- I am not suggesting that naysayers (myself included) are correct in their assessment of appropriate educational goals or analysis of what will or will not work better than the current system. I merely want to suggest that most educators, even most naysayers, believe they are acting in the best interest of the educational enterprise, at least as they perceive it.
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