sticky ideas

My friend Kate mentioned that though her teacher, Mr. Mann, was really nice, she doubts she learned much from him.

I never had a class with Mr. Mann, so I can't say anything meaningful about him. But one nice teacher I remember is Mr. Hudson. He taught science, and he was one of the few teachers who was friendly to me.

But, nice as he was, I don't think I learned much from him. Nice is not good enough, though, had you asked me at the time i was in Mr. Hudson's class, I would have told you he was a great teacher. Back then, a nice teacher was more than I thought I could hope for. How sad is that?

It's fascinating to me that so many people talk about how they can't remember anything they learned in school. Calculus: can't remember it! French: can't remember it! Periodic Tables: Huh? Gerunds: What are they, again? People laugh about this and take it for granted, as if it's just the way it has to be.

I propose that we refuse to accept it. I propose that we stop taking it for granted. I propose that we get appalled by all that wasted time and energy. I propose we think of this as a problem that we can fix. Maybe we can't fix it. Maybe we'll pound our fists against the wall to no avail. But let's try!


Actually, I can think of reasons why it might be okay to forget what we learned in school: (1) maybe we actually don't forget all of it. We all have knowledge that we must have learned somewhere. Maybe we learned it in school and just forgot where we learned it.

(2) Maybe we learned "how to learn" in school. The actual subjects themselves weren't all that important. We benefited by the process. It exercised our brains and turned us into thinking adults.

Okay, I grant that we might have forgotten that school is the origin of some of our knowledge. But not most of it. I can actually tell you where I learned to program computers (not school), read (not school), write (not school), direct plays (in school but extra-curricular), draw (not school), cook (not school), drive (not school), love Shakespeare (not school)...

(I do know plenty of people who learned to hate Shakespeare in school!)

As for "learning how to learn," I agree that it's important. But if it happens in school, it's a lucky accident. I doubt most of my teachers were trying to teach me how to learn. Had that been their intent, they would have gone about it more intelligently and systematically. They would have disdained busy work and taught rigorous thinking skills: they would have coaxed me in logic, rhetoric and the craft of research. They would have taught mostly by getting me to experiment -- not via lectures and pop quizzes.

I propose that teachers ask these questions before creating a lesson plan:

- Is it important that this lesson sticks in the student's mind way after this class is over?

- If not, is it really important that I teach this specific lesson? If my goal is to teach a general method of learning, would I do better if I let the students study things that interest them?

- If so, then how can I make the subject sticky?

Sticky ideas are interesting. How do they get lodged in our minds? One way is via repetition. But we have to be careful when we choose rote as a pedagogical tool. Repetition can be boring. It can kill fun and passion.

We're social animals. One of the best ways to make something sticky is to make it socially important. If Bob tells me something, I might for get it. But if Bob, Alice, Max and Jane all tell me the same thing, I will remember it. The more voices that echo it, the more my brain wants to hold onto it.

Teachers learn very quickly that teaching (a social activity) is a great way to learn. Why don't we leverage this in our schools more often? Bobby should teach something to Jenny, and then Jenny should teach something to Bobby. Older kids should mentor younger kids. Kids should teach stuff to teachers. A little bit of peer-to-peer teaching went on when I was in school. Why just a little bit?

I learn best when the same facts and techniques hit me from at least three angles: when I'm trying to swallow a complicated Comp Sci problem, I do best when I read two books about it, watch a training video about it, listen to a podcast about it, and try it for myself. Partly this works because it engages so many of my senses; partly it works because it is repetition (coupled with novelty); partly it works because when I hear many different "voices" tell me the same thing, my social brain assumes it must be important.

As we're making ideas stick, we should ponder what ideas need to stick. In my view, the only ideas worth making sticky are those necessary for survival (however you want to define that) and those necessary as foundations for general thought and research.

Like most people, I never need Calculus or Geometry in day-to-day life. Were I not a theatre director, I wouldn't need Shakespeare.

I'm not saying these things aren't important. Shakespeare plays and Calculus are profound human achievements -- both deeply beautiful and enriching. But where to we get by ramming them down people's throats? And what's the point if they forget it all?

So let's leave Calculus and Shakespeare as electives (except for people in specific fields where they are needed every day). Let's focus on core skills that everybody needs. And let's really teach these skills. Let's rip into them. Let's make them profoundly sticky.