More on digital natives

Bennett et al. (2008) see the digital natives (Prensky, 2001) category as reductive; the term neglects the role of economic, social and cultural factors in net usage: ‘It may be that there is as much variation within the digital native generation as between the generations’ (p. 779).  Bennett et al. also argue that technology plays different roles in students’ home lives and their learning lives, and that the skills people exhibit in their use of online technologies at home may not be easily transferable to educational contexts (p. 781).

Lohnes and Kinzer (2007) undertook their research at a liberal arts college in the US.  They adopted an ethnographic approach, arguing that questionnaires provide a decontextualised snapshot. Asking students to state their actual practices with technologies gave them, they argue, richer data.

One of Lohnes and Kinzer’s findings was that students stated they preferred not to use their laptops in the classroom, opting to use the classroom for face-to-face interaction, and perceiving the laptop as a physical barrier within the classroom. It would be interesting to see if similar research undertaken now would repeat the findings, given the extent to which laptops and other networked devices have become smaller and less obtrusive in the intervening years.

Jones and Shao (2011) dismiss the idea of digital natives, reviewing the literature and concluding that net usage is differentiated by a range of factors, including, but not limited to, age.  They critique Prensky’s analysis, arguing that it constructs a deficit model of teaching in higher education, whereby lecturers will still retain their digital immigrant identification (2011, p. 7). Furthermore, and in common with Bennett et al., Jones and Shao also question the extent to which general skill with technology translates into skill in the use of technologies to support learning (2011, p. 34).

Increasingly, research suggests that the digital natives/digital immigrants dualism is reductive, masking the extent to which a range of economic, social, cultural and educational factors interact to shape differentiations in internet usage generally, and use of the net to support learning in particular. Moreover, students may not be using a wide range of technologies to support their learning; research by Kirkwood (2008) and Margaryan et al. (2011) shows students being largely passive users of technologies to support learning, and using a narrow range of technologies. 

 

References

Bennett, S., Maton, K. and Kervin, L. (2008) ‘The “digital natives” debate: A critical review of the evidence,’ British Journal of Educational Technology, vol. 39, no. 5, pp. 775-786.

 

Jones, C. and Shao, B. (2011) ‘The net generation and digital natives,’ Milton Keynes, The open University, http://oro.open.ac.uk/30014/ (accessed 3 February 2012).

 

Kirkwood, A. (2008) ‘Getting it from the Web: why and how online resources are used by independent undergraduate learners,’ Journal of Computer Assisted Learning, vol. 24, p. 372-382.

 

Lohnes, S. and Kinzer, C. (2007) ‘Questioning assumptions about students’ expectations for technology in college classrooms,’ Innovate, vol. 3, no. 5, http://www.innovateonline.info/pdf/vol3_issue5/Questioning_Assumptions_About_Students’_Expectations_for_Technology_in_College_Classrooms.pdf (accessed 3 February 2012).

 

Margaryan, A., Littlejohn, A. and Vojt, G. (2011) ‘Are digital natives a myth or reality? University students’ use of digital technologies,’ Computers and Education, vol. 56, pp. 429-440.

 

Hargittai, E. (2010) ‘Digital Na(t)ives?…’

Hirgattai (2010) surveys first-year college students (typically 18-19 year olds) and finds significant differences in their use of the internet, correlated with socio-economic status. Those students from privileged backgrounds used the net more widely, and in more informed ways, than students from less privileged backgrounds. Moreover, students with at least one parent with a degree exhibited higher skill levels in relation to net usage.

Hirgattai’s research challenges Prensky’s (2001) theory of digital natives and digital immigrants. To look at age alone as the factor distinguishing use of the net is reductive. Instead, it seems more accurate to state that net usage reflects power structures within a society. Hence, the net is not causing change as much as it is illustrating our existing economic and social structures via a different medium.

Hirgattai’s work further suggests that connectivity is not the core issue; everyone can, at least theoretically, have a connection to the net, but they may still lack effective access (Hiragittai came to a similar conclusion in earlier research [2002]). Hence, less privileged sectors of the population who would stand to gain most from enhanced access to services and goods are effectively prohibited from doing so, not by technical connection, but by the absence of a skill set which itself is correlated with prosperity and educational attainment.

From a higher educational perspective, the potential of technology-enhanced learning to reach out to learners who wouldn’t normally access higher education is compromised by differences in skill sets in relation to existing net usage. Achieving widening participation in higher education through technology-enhanced learning is more of a cultural and pedagogical than a technical challenge.

References

Hargittai, E. (2002) ‘Second-level digital divide,’ First Monday, vol. 7, no. 4, http://firstmonday.org/htbin/cgiwrap/bin/ojs/index.php/fm/article/view/942/864 (accessed 2 February 2012).

Hargittai, E. (2010) ‘Digital Na(t)ives? Variation in Internet Skills and Uses among Members of the “Net Generation”’ Sociological Inquiry, vol. 80, no. 1, pp. 92-113.

Prensky, M. (2001) ‘Digital natives, digital immigrants’ On the horizon, vol. 9, no. 5, pp. 1-6.

Engestrom et al. (1999) Perspectives on Activity Theory (3)

People working in education in the UK can get taken aback by the continuities between education in 2011, and education as it took shape in the context of the Education Act of 1870, which made education compulsory for children aged 5 to 13. 

The essential, if unstated, purpose of the Act was to prepare children to function as adults in an industrial economy. Hence there was a time to arrive at school, a time to depart, a clear focus of authority in the classroom with all the students facing the same way, and sanctions (brutal, in general) for anyone deviating from the norms. Consequently, children entered industrial production with a clear sense of the expectations held of them. Their personal or class collective contributions to the development of industry, society and culture were not sought.

Mietinnen’s chapter identifies key features of present day learning and teaching: ‘School learning is characterized by memorization and reproduction of school texts. It is accompanied by an instrumental motivation of school success that tends to eliminate substantive interest in the phenomena and knowledge to be studied. The fundamental problem is that knowledge learned in such a way is difficult to use and apply in life outside the school’ (p. 325). School learning still appears to be modeled on the economic and political needs of an industrial society, yet the external contexts have changed, which makes school learning more irrelevant to the world outside school than it ever has been.

Miettinnen uses the language of Activity Theory to identify a particular problem with school learning: ‘the most important artifact of the school institution: decontextualized, independent text’ (p. 326). Online technologies offer a different artifact and, possibly, enhanced relevance to learning.  

At present, the disconnect between the structure of school learning and the wider social structure results in, ‘the historical isolation of school from other societal activities… Passive reception and memorization produce the paradoxical combination of slavish dependence on books and a real inability to use them.’ (p. 326).

The structure of school learning conjures up images of a monorail, with a point of departure, a point of arrival and no opportunity for deviation. Hence we have, ‘the unique inertia and conformity of classroom teaching and interaction… Teacher talk dominates, and students’ activity is largely limited to answering questions formulated by the teacher’ (p. 327). Furthermore, the structure of school learning bleaches communication of its power to create and enhance valuable learning: ‘In ordinary oral language, questions are used to request information and action. In schools, questions are asked to which the teacher already knows the answers’ (p. 329).  

Hence, when students arrive at university and are expected to take more responsibility for their own learning, they may understand what a deadline is, and its importance, but they may not understand how to construct knowledge, understanding and meaning for themselves, as they are successful graduates of a system that encourages the reproduction of what is already held to be known. Positing technology as learning ‘s saviour is reductive, but at least technology can comprise a clear link between the world of the classroom, and the world outside. Therefore, by positioning technology as the artifefact (tool), educators can change the other nodes in the Activity System, and thus change learning for the better.

Reference

Miettinen, R. (1999) ‘Transcending traditional school learning: Teachers’ work and networks of learning,’ in Y. Engestrom, R. Miettinen and R.-L. Punamaki (eds.) Perspectives on Activity Theory, Cambridge, CambridgeUniversity Press, pp. 325-346.

Engestrom et al. (1999) Perspectives on Activity Theory (2)

Further notes on Engestrom, Y., Miettinen, R.  and Punamaki, R. L. eds. (1999) Perspectives on Activity Theory,Cambridge,CambridgeUniversity Press.

Brostrom (1999) writes, ‘In play activity children very often go beyond the current contextual frame. Children not only appropriate the social surrounding world, they also make unexpected creative changes. Observations of play in preschools indicate that children not only adopt [sic] to and internalize the local institutional culture but expand beyond it as well. Through this activity new knowledge, skills, and actions often appear’ (p. 251). It would be interesting to substitute ‘people’ for ‘children’ in this passage, as creativity can emerge from seemingly aimless activity undertaken by children or adults. New knowledge and understanding can occur serendipitously, or when boundaries are weakened or removed. Therefore, while Activity Theory relates to activity that is purposeful, the process and development of play suggests that Expansive Learning (Engestrom 1987, 2001) can happen, and may happen more easily, without goal-directed action. As Hakkarainen (1999) notes, ‘There is no necessity to produce any concrete results or attain previously formulated goals in play’ (p. 234). The products of play, because they are not pre-figured, can be new, and revelatory,

Brostrom also writes, ‘If the teachers make room for children’s creative activities, they themselves will generate such expanding elements. The opposite will occur if the teachers put too much structure into the play. Expansive play will not appear’ (p. 261). Again, we can apply this to learning generally, rather than to the learning of children in particular. Expansive Learning requires an appropriate environment in which to flourish. The more learning is controlled, the fewer the outlets for creativity, though it is unlikely that it could ever be suppressed entirely.

Lompscher (1999) follows Brostrom’s analysis by summarising conventional learning: ‘in most classrooms students are objects of didactic actions aimed at the transmission of knowledge and skills (and norms and values, as well) from the teacher’s head (or from the textbook) to the pupils’ heads’ (p. 266). Conventional learning, therefore, obstructs creativity. By giving learners (and workers) more creative opportunities, educational institutions and workplaces create more opportunities for the creation of new knowledge and understanding. The implications for this approach, as far as Activity Theory is concerned, is that it challenges the role of the ‘Object’ node, and may encourage a new configuration of the structure.

References

Brostrom, S. (1999) ‘Drama games with 6-year-old children: Possibilities and limitations,’ in Y. Engestrom, R. Miettinen and R.-L. Punamaki (eds.) Perspectives on Activity Theory,Cambridge,CambridgeUniversity Press.

Engeström, Y. (1987) Learning by expanding: an activity-theoretical approach to developmental research.Helsinki, Orienta-Konsultit Oy. http://lchc.ucsd.edu/MCA/Paper/Engestrom/expanding/toc.htm (accessed 8 July 2011).

Engestrom, Y. (2001) ‘Expansive Learning at Work: toward an activity theoretical reconceptualization,’ Journal of Education and Work, vol. 14, no. 1, pp. 133-156.

Hakkarainen, P. (1999) ‘Play and motivation,’ in Y. Engestrom, R. Miettinen and R.-L. Punamaki (eds.) Perspectives on Activity Theory,Cambridge,CambridgeUniversity Press.

Lompscher, J. (1999) ‘Activity formation as an alternative strategy of instruction’ ’ in Y. Engestrom, R. Miettinen and R.-L. Punamaki (eds.) Perspectives on Activity Theory,Cambridge,CambridgeUniversity Press.

Literature round-up

Awaiting the reports on the pilot study, I’m catching up on reading. I’m also preparing my paper for the European Conference on E-Learning.

The subject node in an activity system is particularly problematic because contradiction can be inscribed within it. If there is a gap between the subject’s use value, the functional value of what they produce, and the subject’s exchange value, the wealth their labour creates for their employer (which exceeds the subject’s rewards for their labour), then some contradiction is created for the subject. Daniels and Warmington (2007) argue the subject node in the activity system is under-theorised, as the system takes insufficient account of the relations within and between subjects.

Part of education’s function is shaped by the economic and political context within which education occurs. Hence, for example, the Education Act of 1870 existed primarily to make UK subjects functioning units within a fully-fledged industrial economy (regulated hours of attendance, regulated conduct within the institution, punishment for transgression). Rikowski (2002) argues, ‘General education… nurtures those attitudes and personality traits pertinent to working in capitalist enterprises in general’ (p. 20).

Activity Theory presupposes that activity is purposeful. There is no activity system without an object. Engestrom and Kerosuo (2007) argue that Activity Theory ‘is strongly committed to pedagogical and interventionist actions to facilitate and change learning’ (p.337). Hence, as a practical approach to learning it is not about waiting for change to happen via the internal pressures of contradictions, but, instead, provoking change through an analysis of activity systems and the contradictions between their various nodes.

Activity Theory argues that human activity is mediated through tools, a term broadly defined to include signs and codes as well as physical artefacts. However, and as with subjects, the tools node is complex, as Engestrom and Blackler (2005) argue (using objects to signify tools, not objects to signify outcomes): ‘First, it would be a mistake to assume that objects are “just given”; objects are constructed by actors…. Second, at the same time it would also be a mistake to assume that objects are constructed arbitrarily on the spot; objects have histories and built-in affordances, they resist and “bite back”’ (p. 310). On the one hand, meanings for objects (tools) are constructed by users through usage, but on the other hand objects have a back-story created by their previous uses, which are likely to exert an influence on how they are used subsequently. Using an object in an unfamiliar way can provoke resistance.

A significant value and potential of Activity Theory is that it can expose contradictions in existing human activity, and posit alternatives. In this sense it is empowering, and can, potentially, resolve contradictions experienced within subjects. Rikowski (2002), placing his analysis within an explicitly political context, defines Marxism as a ‘promethean scream: we are everything, there are no gods, no superhuman forces. People are the sole creators, it is labour alone which constitutes social reality’ (p. 1).

References
Daniels, H. and Warmington, P. (2007) ‘Analysing third generation activity systems: labour-power, subject position and personal transformation,’ Journal of Workplace Learning, vol. 19, no. 6, pp. 377-391.

Engestrom, Y. and Blackler, F. (2005) ‘On the life of the object,’ Organization, vol. 12, no. 3, pp. 307-330.

Engestrom, Y. and Kerosuo, H. (2007) ‘From workplace learning to inter-organizational learning and back: the contribution of activity theory,’ Journal of Workplace Learning, vol. 19, no. 6, pp.336-352.

Rikowski, G. (2002) ‘Methods for researching the social production of labour power in capitalism,’ University College Northampton School of Education research seminar, 7 March 2002.

Avis (2009) ‘Transformation or transformism…’

Avis (2009) engages with Engestrom’s idea of co-configuration, ‘an emerging type of work in which customers and producers become partners and in which there is interdependency between multiple producers’ (p. 153). Avis draws on the work of Victor and Boynton (1998) who cite Microsoft as an example of co-configuration. New iterations of Windows are informed by user feedback on previous iterations, and forums (both inside and outside Microsoft’s control) enable users to identify and resolve problems. Avis, however, is sceptical of how much co-configuration actually goes on, suggesting organisations are re-imagined as open systems, not re-configured (2009, p. 154). Hence, the involvement of users is, Avis’s argument suggests, more of a marketing strategy to generate the sense of a community, rather than a community in practice.

For Avis, co-configuration, and Engestrom’s metaphor of knotworking, ‘imply dynamic processes in which groups form, break up and re-form with different partners’ (p. 154). In this context, ‘groupings may form to pursue a particular project and then dissolve’ (p. 154). Online campaigns, via Facebook and other media, can assemble and then disperse without prior or subsequent allegiance. Organisations can assemble teams for particular projects, the team dispersing once the project is completed, with a new team formed for a new project, in which the same individuals can occupy different roles.

Avis points out that co-configuration is similar to Marx and Engels’s reading of the bourgeois epoch: ‘Constant revolutionizing of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation distinguished the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away…’ (Marx and Engels 1973, p. 38, cited in Avis, p. 156). Hence, it may be the case that co-configuration comprises the rebranding of a pre-existing practice, or that co-configuration reproduces the social relations of the economic base of the society within which the co-configuration occurs.

Engestrom uses a triangular structure to show how activity happens. There are three focal points: a subject, a purpose, and tools. Where a collective pursues an object, the division of labour becomes an important factor. Moreover, the activity occurs within a specific historical context, comprising a further determinant. Learning occurs through the questioning of current practices, leading to ‘new conceptualizations and forms of practice’ (p. 159). This is Engestrom’s Expansive Learning: ‘Such learning carries with it the development of new forms of knowledge and identity as well as changes in the division of labour’ (p. 160).

Avis ties down a specific definition of Engestrom’s idea: ‘expansive learning is tied to the resolution of contradiction at the site of a specific activity system or cluster’ (p. 161). However, for Avis, as for Hayes (2003), Engestrom’s development of Activity Theory eschews Marx’s analysis: ‘Engestrom’s AT veers towards becoming a form of comfort radicalism, its transformative rhetoric has a progressive appeal but ultimately it readily lends itself to becoming no more than a management technique’ (p. 161). Hence, for Avis, Engestrom articulates how the formation of new knowledge can happen, but avoids the implications of his own analysis, whereby subjects can challenge the practices they have inherited, and use the tools at their disposal to construct new analyses, new concepts, and new practices.

References
Avis, J. (2009) ‘Transformation or transformism: Engestrom’s version of activity theory?’ Educational Review, vol. 61, no. 2, pp. 151-165.

Hayes, D. (2003) ‘New Labour, new professionalism’, in Discourse, power, resistance: Challenging the rhetoric of contemporary education, ed. Satterthwaite, J., Atkinson, E. and Gale, K., Stoke-on-Trent, Trentham.

Marx, K. and Engels, F. (1973) ‘Manifesto of the Communist Party’ in Selected Works, London, Lawence and Wishart.

Victor, B. and Boynton, A. (1998) Invented here: maximizing your organisation’s internal growth and profitability, Boston, Harvard Business School.

Scanlon and Issoff (2005) ‘Activity Theory and Higher Education…’

Scanlon and Issoff explore technologies in Higher Education, from an Activity Theory perspective. They challenge purely quantitative interpretations of the impact of technology in H.E.: ‘many approaches to evaluation of learning technology share at least one underlying assumption: that an increase in the volume of students using technologies or time spent using a technology or more courses incorporating technology as part of the learning environment is a desirable outcome which will lead to more learning’ (p. 431). Following an Activity Theory line, Scanlon and Issoff are more interested in what learners actually do with technologies.

Their analysis was published in 2005, but even at this time they argued, ‘The primary contradiction in higher education activity takes the form of the student as person to be educated versus student as a source of revenue and profit’ (p. 433). In the aftermath of the Browne Review, and the likely rise in tuition fees from c.3k per year to up to 9k per year, this contradiction can only become more acute. However, the Activity Theorist might argue this is, paradoxically, a good thing, because contradictions and tensions generate new knowledge; the reaction to the fees increase suggests the student population as a whole is expanding its awareness of the social impact of economic and political decisions.

Scanlon and Issoff provide an anecdotal account of how technology is altering relationships within Higher Education: ‘In one particular instance, several students attempted to help the lecturer to fix the technology so that he could continue his lecture with the complex medical images he had prepared on his laptop. This is a change in the normal rules of the lecture method in that usually students are passive recipients who sit in the audience while the lecturer stands up on stage presenting information. When the technology failed, some students broke the normal rules and tried to help the lecturer. This also represents a change in the division of labour in the learning setting’ (p. 435). Relying on technology in a classroom setting relies, in turn, on competence with technology which, unlike subject competence, is not the preserve of the lecturer. Therefore, relationships get reconfigured in order to better the learning experience for everyone. In this sense technology has the potential to change relationships within higher education.

A further respect in which technology may be changing relationships within Higher Education relates to the amount of information available online: ‘For students, their enthusiastic adoption of the resources they found serendipitously on the Web was unproblematic. However, it was problematic for staff who thought that pre-selected links which had previously been evaluated were more suitable for students. Once again, students’ and tutors’ expectations were different in terms of who has control of the teaching and learning in this setting. In Activity Theory terms, this can be expressed as a change in the division of labour which applies to making selections or judging the appropriateness of resources’ (p. 436). Universities traditionally held control over information. Libraries opened at times to suit the institution, and finite numbers of each book were held in stock. Technology enables any time, anywhere access, and it is for universities to respond to change and make more information available more easily to students, who are paying more for their education and expect more in return. The Activity Theorist might suggest that students have empowered themselves by finding information where they can, not where the university wants them to. If the university is, reasonably, concerned about the quality of information found by students it would make sense to teach information literacy in entertaining and interactive ways, in order to better support students.

Reference
Scanlon, E. and Issoff, K. (2005) ‘Activity Theory and Higher Education: evaluating learning technologies’ Journal of Computer Assisted Learning vol. 21, pp. 430-439.

Collini (2010) ‘Browne’s Gamble’

The Browne Review has profound implications for the future of Higher Education in the UK. Stefan Collini argues in The London Review of Books that the Browne review comprises ‘a redefinition of higher education and the retreat of the state from financial responsibility for it.’

Collini’s analysis is neither reactionary nor dismissive. He argues for diversity of provision in H.E.: ‘There is a wholly legitimate place in a diversified higher education system for all kinds of part-time, work-related, vocationally oriented, career-break courses, but the social value of the institutions that primarily provide such courses should be recognised and properly rewarded without forcing them to try to ape “traditional” universities when the odds – in terms of resources, reputation and so on – are so stacked against them.’ Collini also recognises that part-time students need to have parity with their full-time counterparts: ‘The report is clearly right that part-time students must be eligible for funding for their tuition on the same basis, pro-rata, as full time students.’ The Browne review, if implemented in full, will enable people to access Higher Education in the timescales suitable to them, via delivery channels that suit their lifestyles, and with due support, where available.

Collini argues ‘consumer choice’ will become the chief determinant of what universities teach and how they teach it. Browne’s fundamental belief is that student choice will guarantee quality, and students’ main measure of satisfaction will be the employment advantage conferred by the qualification and the institution awarding it. As the State withdraws from funding universities, students will pay vastly increased fees in the expectation that the investment will secure an employment and salary return.

The bleakest prediction made by Collini is that the implementation of the Browne Review will ‘exacerbate the financial disparity between types of university and, above all, to bring about a much closer correlation between the reputational hierarchy of institutions and the social class of their student body.’ The wealthy and privileged will attend Russell Group universities, and the rest will just have to make do with whatever they can afford. As Collini concludes, ‘it is a necessary truth about markets that they tend to replicate and even intensify the existing distribution of economic power.’

Collini’s overview is that Browne comprehends the H.E. sector as, primarily, an economic phenomenon: ‘This report displays no real interest in universities as places of education; they are conceived of simply as engines of economic prosperity and as agencies for equipping future employees to earn higher salaries.’ There is nothing wrong with students attending university to better their employment prospects, but the reconstituting of the H.E. sector as a preparation ground for work only may narrow the curriculum along utilitarian lines. Furthermore, the cost of attending university will compel students to focus on employment outcomes, thereby exacerbating the imperative to attend university for employment, thereby exerting further pressure on the narrowing of the curriculum, which will change only in response to changing economic conditions and the requirements for new skills sets for employment. Moreover, in the absence of a state subsidy for H.E. teaching, and in the context of a lightly regulated market, courses that don’t attract students will go. Non-profitable subjects will either be taught in small, specialist H.E.I.s with fewer overheads and resources than mainstream H.E.I.s, or they won’t be taught.

Reference
Collini, S. (2010) ‘Browne’s Gamble’, The London Review of Books, vol. 32, no. 21, pp. 23-25.