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Editor's Note: Stephen Downes is an extraordinary, multi
gifted educator, technologist and a well-recognized leader in Distance
Learning. We are privileged to present this research and creative analysis
of the complex, controversial issues within present academic structures,
practices and philosophies. A wry analogy illustrating Stephen's Downes'
personal philosophy on Distance Education follows: "everybody keeps
trying to stuff the DE cat back into the F2F bag. I'm going to do
my damndest, in my own small way, to help the cat stay out. It's well
and truly out. But that does not stop some people from holding and even
defending the bag. My own interest, of course, is in the cat.
Unrest in the Ivory Tower:
Privatization of the University
By Stephen Downes
Academics must resist the trend toward the commodification of education
or universities will become privatized is the position well stated and
supported by Steve Eskow and many within academia. On the contrary: the
more professors resist, the greater the likelihood that privatization
will happen, and that would be a tragedy.
Stephen Downes, August 7, 2001
Introduction: Mensa and Academia
I once had a desire to join Mensa. I'm bright enough; their
IQ tests are pleasant diversions but no real challenge. And I enjoy
hanging around with bright people as I have for the two decades
I've spent in an academic environment, quaffing a few fine ales
at Dewey's or Dinnies Den, debating matters far and wide of
varying degrees of importance.
As I learned more about Mensa, however, disillusionment set in.
While one would have thought that society's brightest minds
were focused on the pressing issues of the day, these minds were
focused most of all on puns, word games and clever tricks. By
comparison, even my regular trivia games have more merit. And my
sudsy sermons Pulitzer prose.
Over time I have become less enamored of the university
environment for similar reasons. Not that universities even
approach the banality of Mensa; the people across the road continue
to amaze (islet transplants, fun with phage cancer treatments,
human livers in mice...) and the university is recognized - here,
at least - as the city's key economic engine. But university
professors can and do obsess over the minute. They can put their
own momentary comfort over the needs of academia and society. And
they can be as self-absorbed as the most narcissistic Mensa
meeting.
I say this lovingly, of course. Nobody spends two decades
associated with institutions and people they despise (or even
dislike). Twenty-first century academia is a treasure, one of
humanity's shining pillars of achievement. It is worth saving,
or at least, spending a few hours on a Tuesday morning talking
about how it may be saved.
The Privatization Scenario
I now turn to a hypothesis, popularized by David Noble (1998)
and others, that is gaining increasing currency among academics. It
is what Steve Eskow (2001) calls the "Privatization Scenario."
Hypothesis: There is a growing movement afoot in the US and
elsewhere to identify distance education as one of the knives to
achieve the dismembering, and the death, of the university.
Proponents of the hypothesis argue that distance education and
online learning are being used to subvert the nature and purpose of
a university education.
They argue that this form of subversion is often unconscious and
is often disguised as a desire to "improve" the university, to make
a university education "more affordable" and the process of
teaching and learning "more efficient."
These critics point to a pattern whereby the effort to improve
education leads to the objective of privatizing education on the
grounds that the "market" is a more efficient guarantor
of quality than the "elite" guild of academics.
This essay is a response to the Privatization Scenario, and in
part, a response to the position held by those groups represented
by Drs. Noble and Eskow.
I most certainly agree with this part of the hypothesis: there
is a movement toward privatization. It is a trend affecting all of
learning, not only universities. The move toward charter schools,
home schooling and various alternative education projects
highlights this trend in the elementary sector. Trade schools and
colleges face increasing competition from private institutions.
Moreover, it is not only the institutions of learning that are
being privatized. Their product, the books, journals, ideas and
opinions produced by professors and their colleagues are being
increasingly placed under corporate lock and key, whether through
funded research or collected in fee-based archives such as XanEdu
(See Downes, 2001). Patents and copyrights are moving the learning
that used to be freely circulated in the public domain into a
closed marketplace of privatized knowledge (See. e.g., Lynch,
2001).
Universities and especially university professors are easy
targets precisely because, like Mensa members, they become
self-absorbed. Part of that comes with the territory - you cannot
be expert at anything unless you become a little fanatical - but
part of it comes from a blindness, an inability or unwillingness to
look at some wider trends sweeping society, trends that have the
potential to sweep the university system with them.
So let's subsume the 'Privatization Scenario' under
this larger picture, the one in which human knowledge itself is
being privatized.
Why Defend Universities?
As I mentioned above, I am a defender of the university. Perhaps
you may not believe that, given my staunch defense of distance and
online learning, and given my occasional carping about universities
and university professors. But I am a defender of the university
because I am a defender of knowledge and, in particular, that view
of knowledge as a public trust, intended (and to be used) for the
benefit of all of humanity, freely shared and freely used.
If we were talking about money, not knowledge, I would be
classed as a socialist, perhaps even a Marxist or communist. I am
not sure whether there is a corresponding term for the public
ownership and free distribution of intellectual capital (I may as
well take yet another stab at historical significance and call it
Downesism). Whatever it is, it is that that I support and my
support for universities is as a means to this end.
This is important: universities are not worth defending in and
of themselves. They are worth defending only insofar as they foster
the free distribution of knowledge, whether it be by means of
allowing people an affordable education, by means of discovering
and announcing fundamental truths, or by means of advancing our
science, technology and human sciences for the good of society as a
whole.
Knowledge is different from capital, and from material goods, in
that there is no inherent scarcity to knowledge. A piece of
knowledge, once produced, may be replicated almost for free,
distributed around the world in the blink of an electron, fed
almost as easily to one person as to one billion people. Oh sure,
there are some pragmatic issues: knowledge can be expensive to
create, and as those of us involved in distance and online learning
will attest, distribution is not free. However for the greater
good, people in a society - and across societies, in a global
society - pool their resources, funding public universities for the
production of knowledge, and a public education system for the
distribution of knowledge.
We allow and accept a market system for the distribution of
knowledge where it is appropriate. We recognize that a person owns
his or her own ideas, and that the inventors of new technologies
have the right to profit from their work. We allow that money may
be exchanged for knowledge. So long as the objective - the
widespread creation and distribution of knowledge - is met, we can
allow a multiplicity of methodologies. And just so society today
has created great public universities, great private universities,
public-private collaboration, government sponsored research, and
corporate research. When we look at the intellectual achievements
of the twentieth century, we regard not only M.I.T., Harvard and
Stanford, but also Xerox PARC and Texas Instruments, NASA and
National Geographic as equally significant contributors.
Now the 'Privatization Scenario' is concerned about the
privatization of universities. It argues that the privatization of
universities is being accomplished via a set of processes and
paradigms that I will look at below. And so it is true: these
processes and paradigms are being used as the thin edge of the
wedge by those who would privatize universities, and indeed,
privatize knowledge generally.
But these processes and paradigms only accomplish the goal of
privatization if they are effective. Were they not effective, they
would not be a danger to universities at all. Nobody is trying to
privatize universities by means of beer sales or fox hunting
competitions, because there is no great demand from the public for
university beer sales or fox hunting competitions. The people who
are advocating privatization are hitting the universities where it
hurts: and they are appealing to society's larger objectives in
an effort to transform the university system.
The advocates of privatization are aided and abetted by those
who resist many of these changes, for while many of these changes
would result in an improved educational system for all, the
reluctance of public universities to adopt them is, by itself, the
single greatest cause of the privatization of universities.
University professors, by taking the parochial view, hasten their
own demise.
The Means of Production
The 'Privatization Scenario' proposes that the process follows a
distinct pattern, a pattern characterized by: first, the "three Ms"
of massification, marketization and managerialization; second, a
changing rhetoric of education, using such words as "customer" and
"efficiency"; and third, changing processes of quality and control.
Let me look at each of these three patterns, beginning with the
three Ms.
A. Massification
Massification, in my understanding, is the employment of the
instruments of mass production for the development and distribution
of knowledge and learning. By this is meant not only the production
of goods or services in mass quantities, like the safety pin, the
automobile or the McDonald's burger, but also the use of
specialization and standardization as essential components of
production. If a pre-massification scenario could be illustrated by
a single tailor making a few shirts, each shirt by hand, then a
massified enterprise would be illustrated by a team of workers,
each performing some small part of the task of making a shirt, each
day producing hundreds or thousands of shirts.
Critics already point to the massification of education even
today. They point to such institutions as Britain's Open University
and the concept of mass education as espoused by Sir John Daniel.
They point to the segmentation of the learning process into neatly
standardized classes, each of which teaches a certain subject,
through which students progress year by year, tier by tier, as
though on an assembly line. And they see this process making
inroads into the teaching process itself, where the process of
teaching a class is, as Jeffrey Young (1997) described it,
"unbundled."
Yet insofar as massification has entered the world of the
university, it hasn't been a disaster. Modern medical labs, for
example, resemble production centers much more than they do Thomas
Edison's garage. Teams of scientists, following strict
protocols, work in assembly to synthesize, test and produce
thousands of compounds. The sequencing of the human genome was
possible only through mass techniques. Such researchers also use
the means of the mass to disseminate their knowledge: journals are
mass-produced and shipped to every corner of the globe where
identical scientists in identical labs reproduce their discoveries.
Scientific progress is not possible without massification.
Only in the field of teaching does academia seem to have
successfully resisted massification. Only in the field of teaching
is the product the result of the individual craftsman, toiling
alone, each bit of lecture a custom fit for the small group of
students assembled before him. It is a source of continual
frustration to society as a whole - why can't we devise a means
of reaching everyone, and not only those favored few with the time
and money to spend attending university lectures? And when we look
at the challenge of providing a university-level education to a
global population of 7 billion and more, it becomes obvious that
teaching must evolve. Were cars hand-made, only a fortunate and
wealthy few would have them. The same is true for education.
A profession that insists that all its products must be
handcrafted dooms itself to oblivion. As long as university
professors assert that the only form of teaching must be the
in-person lecture they are hastening the development of
non-university alternatives that prove otherwise.
B. Marketization
Marketization is, in my understanding, the treatment of
education and learning as a commodity, to be displayed and selected
for consumption by a paying public. Marketization (and not online
learning per se) is the major objection David Noble offers in his
critiques of distance and online learning.
Defenders of the university may then be surprised to hear me
defend marketization. I have even written (half-written) a paper
called "The Learning Marketplace." Why would I do so, if
marketization is so contrary to the university culture?
The fact that it is contrary to the university culture is why
the paper had to be written, but I have no intention, subconscious
or otherwise, of thereby dismantling the university system. Quite
the contrary, in my view, marketization may be the salvation of
much of the university as we know it today.
Private enterprise theorists often argue that the market is the
most efficient way to distribute a resource. Universities have
steadfastly resisted that doctrine, maintaining instead a monopoly
and control over the distribution of knowledge, reserving it either
for their peers or for the select few who attend university
classes. But clearly there is some evidence, is there not, that
markets do provide an effective means of distribution? Otherwise we
would not have grocery stores; we would have government food
outlets. Otherwise we would not have restaurants, we would have
government eating stations.
Markets work on the principle that the exercise of choice is more efficient
than the exercise of control. The reason for this should be obvious: people
are much more willing to decide for themselves what they want than to
have it decided for them. Moreover, when someone must decide for them,
there is an increased likelihood that they will make incorrect decisions.
As John Stuart Mill famously observed, the best indication in a society
that something is valued is that people value it. The best indication
that something is good for people is that people desire it as a good.
Where market theorists err is in their slavish adherence to the
principles of the marketplace in all times and in all contexts. But
marketplaces are known to fail, as anybody buying lumber in Florida
in the wake of Hurricane Andrew can attest. Markets work only if
there is a sufficient supply of a commodity. Choice is only
efficient where choice may be effectively practiced. Where choices
are forced, where commodities are in short supply, the marketplace
collapses in on itself, spiraling out of control, rewarding the
rich and powerful and leaving the mass without.
When something is in short supply, a call for the marketplace to
distribute that good can (and should) be seen as folly: for the
advantage rests entirely with the distributors, and none with the
consumers. Thus it may seem that having the market distribute
education may be called a folly, because education is, as anyone
can see, in short supply. People today spend the equivalent of a
price of a modest house for a university education. I saw recently
five-day courses offered by Queens at a price that would buy a
small car. Putting education into the marketplace in such
conditions would be folly: it would be licensing the owners of
knowledge to print money, and condemning the vast majority of
humanity to doing without.
But there is no reason why learning must be a scarce commodity.
Indeed, it is arguable that it is a scarce commodity only because
universities and university professors have created a false
scarcity. It is as though the news media of the world decided that
the only way people could really understand the Balkan conflict
would be to hear about it in person from a professional journalist.
The result of such folly would be evident: people would pay
thousands of dollars to listen to average journalists (not everyone
can afford a Cronkite) while the vast majority would have no access
to this information at all.
There is no reason why education must be scarce, and every
reason why it can be produced in mass quantities for mass
consumption. And in such an environment, there is no reason why
learning cannot be distributed via a marketplace, and every reason
why it should. For the best indication that something needs to be
learned, as Mill would say, is that people want to learn it.
C. Managerialization
Managerialization is, to my understanding, the process whereby
an academic relinquishes some control over the production and
distribution of knowledge to a team and where that team is run, not
by the academic, but by a manager. The manager, of course, knowing
nothing about the subject in question, can be relied on to make
poor decisions.
As a sometime software designer, I am certainly sympathetic to
this line of reasoning. Indeed, an entire culture - the Dilbert
Culture - has developed in the software community to make fun of
the pointy-haired bosses who think they have some understanding of
software design. I have no doubt that the same is true in other
areas of endeavor, and were I promoted to coordinate the design of,
say, a learning project in the field of microbiology, my academic
interference would be as welcome as a focus-group expert at a
hacking convention.
The problem, of course, is not the practice of employing teams
to develop learning material: the problem is pointy-haired bosses.
In the software industry, almost nothing is created outside a team.
Even some of the most heralded individual achievements - Unix, say,
or Linux - have over time become the project of dozens, even
hundreds, of dedicated individuals - each person working on his or
her own area of expertise, suffering the indignities of more or
less coordination by a manager. Indeed, looking at the wider world,
only professors, it seems, have the wherewithal to resist working
as part of a team, so much so that the term 'Lone Wolf' has
been coined to characterize much of academic endeavor.
And, of course, no professor (or very few, at any rate, since I
obviously count myself as one of the exceptions) has the expertise
to professionally provide all aspects of educational delivery. It
is no wonder professors say that the best and only means of
teaching is in-class and in-person: no professor has the skills or
the time to do anything else! But by their own dogmatic adherence
to individualistic 'lone wolf' production methods, they
make their own prediction a self-fulfilling prophecy.
A prophecy, moreover, which is demonstrably false. Teams of
people working in unison in other fields have managed educational
attainment far beyond that of any individual professor. Look at
what the advertising and entertainment industries have
accomplished. Hundreds of millions of people could reliably create
a Big Mac (two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese and
a pickle on a sesame seed bun). Millions more could state with
conviction why a 2-5-5 defense is ineffective in a football game,
analyze the comparative merits of Randy Johnson and Nolan Ryan,
comment knowledgeably on the weather, sing a Beatles song and play
a round of golf (correctly, within the rules, though perhaps not
well).
And: so long as professors refuse to work as part of top-flight
educational teams, more or less competently managed, their
achievements will be eclipsed, over time, by teams of skilled
professionals producing top-flight educational materials. And when
professors, teaching alone in a classroom, are widely recognized as
an inferior (not to mention expensive) form of education, the call
for privatized education will take full flight.
Massification, Marketization, Managerialization - to the degree
professors resist these, rather than embrace them, they are
hastening their own demise. It seems to me that the best minds in
society could find ways to make the 3Ms work for all of society -
but instead they sit in their little offices, careless of society,
wondering how their pleas of 'quality' can be possibly
relevant to the many millions of people who never shadow their
hallowed walls.
Language, Truth and Logic
The second part of the "Privatization Scenario" focuses on the
changing rhetoric of education. It points to, and laments, the
description of students as "customers". It criticizes the
description of college as a trading company or enterprise,
importing and exporting, seeking overseas "markets". It rails
against colleges using "standards" that can be
"measured," course "brokers" and
"productivity," "efficiency" and
"accountability." And worst of all, "quality
control."
As any linguist knows, the words we use are used to reflect
reality, either as it is or as we would like it to be. Thus, words
such as 'phlogiston' fell into disuse as our concept of
reality came to encompass oxygen, and our use of the word
'girl' declined, with much encouragement, as a reflection
of our desire to minimize the diminution of women. A vocabulary is
like a mirror into a person's world view. Words express
meaning; meaning expresses reality, either shared or solipsistic,
faithful or fancied.
The words listed below fall mostly into the category of
representing the world as we wish it to be, a fact that proponents
of the "Privatization Scenario" seize upon to assert that their use
reflects a hidden agenda. For any person without effort can find
instances which prove that the university system is not, as he
suggests, customer (or learner) centered, efficient, effective, or
productive. The typical university lecture does not adhere to any
standards (at least none that I can detect), learning is measured
only in the crudest of fashions, and professors - the bearers of
ultimate job security - are certainly not accountable.
In an email to DEOS, Steve Eskow points to John Chambers of
Cisco who popularized the notion that "education is the next
'killer app'." One doesn't have to be Freud or
Jung, says Eskow, to see the implications of both
"killer" and "app," or to sense the possibility
that one of the things that has to be killed by the app is the
university.
When Eskow quotes John Chambers as describing online learning as
the next 'killer app', he implies that university education
is what will be killed by some new technology. Perhaps so. It is
worth noting that the term 'killer app' was devised, not
merely because it was fatal to some preceding category of products,
but because it was widely used, wildly popular, and became a
paradigm for the applications that followed.
Mosaic - later Netscape - became a killer app, popularizing the
World Wide Web and the Internet in general because it bucked
conventional (and I might add, professorial) wisdom, by allowing
people to view graphics. People familiar with the history of the
Internet are familiar with its academic origin: and such people say
(sometimes cynically) that only university professors would think
that pictures and graphics would not be needed for online
communication.
Email flourished as a killer app because it replaced an outmoded
and inefficient organization: the post office. Today the flow of
messages by email far exceeds the capacity of the post office. The
writing of messages on paper, the placing of paper in envelopes,
the procurement of tariff stickers (called stamps), the trek to the
post office box, the wait while the physical package is collected,
sorted and distributed (by foot, no less) - all this was a
technology waiting to be superseded by a more efficient, productive
(and dare I say, standards-based) replacement.
I have heard the lament, more often than I care, that the web
has produced a wealth of poor graphical design and that email has
produced an endless supply of drivel. Perhaps it has, from people
who never engaged in graphic design before the advent of the web,
and from people who never set pen to paper when mail was a
cumbersome task. And the same critics overlook the awkward design
of most publications in print (not everything is National
Geographic or the National Post) and the steady deluge of junk mail
that flows, even today, into our mailboxes. Much less the time and
cost of producing pens, paper, envelopes, stamps and a worldwide
pedestrian delivery system.
The fact is, killer apps become killer apps because they're
better, and when John Chambers suggests that online learning will
become the next killer app, it is because he thinks it will be
better - much better - than the contemporary pedestrian
product.
And how might it be better? The new vocabulary - used not only
by potential privateers but also by people genuinely interested in
education - tells the story.
A. Choice
Students as 'customers' - or in the more common parlance
of educators, 'student-centered learning' or even
'learner-centered learning' - a reflection of the desire to
create a system where universities exist to serve students'
needs, and not professors' needs. This does not (necessarily)
reflect a 'customer-is-always-right' attitude - as any
patron of McDonalds will tell you, the customer is often perceived
as wrong (you get a pickle whether you like it or not). But it does
reflect an understanding and even an ethos that the purpose of the
institution is to provide students - the customer - with what they
want (not to mention, paid for).
A lot flows from that assumption, but I will key in on one thing
that encapsulates the difficulty contemporary universities have
with the student-centered approach: choice.
Aside from some very broad choices (will I study engineering or
philosophy?) students have very few choices in a university. Having
selected a program, they are routed to a faculty, given a small
selection of options and a bevy of required courses, and are
assigned professors (if they are lucky, they will learn about and
manage to avoid the particularly bad professors). Inside the
classroom, they have very little choice about the course content,
nature and number of assignments, criteria for passing, time and
place of course offerings, labs, workshops or seminars. They have
no choice at all regarding their classmates, limited choice in
assigned texts and readings, and are unified in their quest for a
single (obligatory) goal, the university degree.
No doubt all of these decisions are made for the benefit of
students. Sometimes - often, actually - these decisions will in
fact be correct decisions. It is a nice healthy line-up of
educational nutrition. But imagine a grocery store where, once you
have selected your food type (Italian, Chinese, Indian), you are
routed through a certain set of aisles. You are given one or two of
each product item to choose from, and you have a set of required
products you must purchase. You are required to show that you are
able to prepare the food correctly before you leave, but you must
prepare it in a certain way depending on the whims of the cashier.
You will buy - and only buy - a full year's worth of food. No
doubt many of these decisions regarding food and nutrition are
correct decisions, but the experience is entirely unsatisfying and,
to a diabetic, fatal.
It's a simple thing, choice. Yet if John Chambers can
develop an online learning application that provides educational
choice, the killing fields will be littered with ivy-covered
rubble.
B. Standards
Standards - of course university professors are notorious for
resisting standards, at least so far as the practice of their
profession is concerned. This has the result of creating frantic
student consultations in the halls and campus pubs in a determined
effort to avoid the notoriously bad professors (my own experience
cannot be that unique, can it?). It is difficult even within a
single institution to determine what constitutes a first year logic
class, let alone to determine this across a nation (much less
world-wide).
In no other field is such a crass disregard for the nature and
quality of the component parts of a product or service so brazenly
displayed. Those very academics who rail against standards would be
appalled were they to learn that the airplane they are flying was
assembled, ad hoc (no doubt by a team of skilled craftsmen) without
regard to wiring, fuel or aviation standards. They would not dare
drive were they to learn that the reliability of their tires was
not proven. They would not eat food that may or may not contain
arsenic (much less peanuts), would not drink water, which could not
meet certain criteria of safety. They expect that the wiring in
their home will not only be up to standard, but also that it will
be inspected by a third party to make sure. Yet in this, one of the
most important investments of time and money a person can make,
they expect to fly without standards.
I personally see no reason why there cannot be a
'standard' Logic 101 in use world wide, or at the very
least, a common vocabulary and curriculum. The principles are
fairly well understood and have been accepted without a significant
change for the last two thousand years. A common base of examples
exists and makes the rounds in any case. Tried and true techniques
for teaching reasoning - from Venn diagrams to truth tables -
exist. Yet there is no such thing, and no concept of what would
constitute quality teaching of logic, and successful learning of
logic. Except, I should add, for the innovation of a private
standards-based test in logic, which is used only grudgingly (if at
all) by academics (but most enthusiastically by people who teach
logic online - what a surprise).
C. Efficiency
Efficiency - it makes no sense to have a highly skilled teacher
spend half his or her time producing mediocre research so that he
or she can get tenure or promotions. It makes no sense having a
highly skilled researcher teach a class in order for him or her to
keep his or her job. It makes no sense for either teacher or
researcher to sit in front of a class while a test is being
conducted, languish in the back of the room while a video is being
shown, spends hours debating parking policies at a faculty staff
meeting, and more. And when you have a hundred million graduate
students to teach, then it makes no sense having eight students in
a graduate class, no matter how good the exercise, because it means
that most of those students will receive no graduate education at
all. I'm surprised they haven't taken to the streets.
I have only picked up on a few examples here, but it seems clear
and obvious: if Cisco could produce an online learning system that
was learner-centered, standards based, efficient, productive, and
accountable, then people would abandon universities in droves, and
more to the point, governments would be very hard pressed to
justify spending a lot of money on the public system when the
private system is doing the same job for more people and for less
money. And even more to the point: we are already beginning to see
signs of this today.
Recently, DeVries was given accreditation in Alberta. This means
that this private institution is now competing on a level playing
field with the publicly funded colleges in our province. Should
they prove more popular and more effective, our government will not
be able to justify spending money on demonstrably inferior and more
expensive alternatives. In Pennsylvania recently, a charter school
offered classes online - thereby drawing the ire of proponents of
the traditional public system but the praise of parents who found
this particular alternative a giant leap forward in ease of use and
efficiency.
To the degree that universities and university professors drag
their feet in becoming student-centered, efficient,
standards-based, accountable, and the like, that is the degree they
are cutting the slender branch on which they all rest.
Quality and Control
This leads to the third component of the "Privatization
Scenario," the changing structures of quality and control.
Critics point to a drift away from the traditional practice of
peer review and toward "quality control" in the tradition
of the factory system. They point to references to ISO 9000, Dunn
and Bradstreet, business organizations, and industrial
organizations as models for the university to emulate.
Much of this criticism trades on distaste for factories,
accountants and perhaps industry as a whole. But it disregards some
of the more important features of a quality control system. As I
suggested above, I sincerely doubt that anyone would fly in an
airplane evaluated solely by peer review, but that points not so
much to the silliness of his argument as it does to a
misunderstanding of evaluation and review.
Let me talk briefly about ISO and the 'quality' movement
in general. What we have here is actually several things combined
and sold as a package (as such it is a deeply flawed package, but
it contains enough that is good to be marketable):
- First, it embodies the idea that quality can be measured, and
- Second, it embodies a business ethos which asserts that quality can
always be improved
- Third, it establishes a team-based structure of quality circles in
order to impel and enforce these quality improvements
Second, it embodies a business ethos which asserts that quality
can always be improved, and
When I think about 'quality', my mind always to a
picture printed about a decade ago in the Globe and Mail's
Report on Business magazine (a nice, glossy, short-lived tribute to
the corporate way) of a group of young and earnest looking Japanese
workers, seated around a table, called the 'Paddington
Bears,' whose sole objective in life (so the caption went) was
to reduce the number of scratches in TV monitors from 8 per million
to 1.
Now: reducing the number of scratches in TV monitors is good. We
would complain if we bought a scratched TV, and we would complain
if the cost of TVs were doubled because every second monitor must
be discarded. But: spending all day reducing the number from 8 to 1
per million is foolish; and making it the basis of society is
ridiculous.
What we want to do here is separate the concept of quality from
the corporate ethos in which it has been packaged and marketed as
'total quality'. We want to keep the good: airplanes that
fly reliably, food that is safe, water that is potable, education
that is effective. And we want to discard the bad: individual
subsumation to the wants and needs of the corporate entity, to the
exclusion of all else.
Critics, in deliberately conflating those three components of
the quality movement, do their readers - and education in general -
a disservice.
Focusing on quality only, we need to distinguish two types of
quality. I have in previous emails referred to these as
'semantic' and 'syntactic' quality. One might think
of them as 'qualitative' and 'quantitative' quality
respectively. But I prefer 'semantic' and
'syntactic' to get away from the idea that the former
consist only in touchy-feely emotions and that the latter consists
only in cold-hearted mathematical calculations.
Now in the evaluation of student work, professors employ both
forms of assessment on a regular basis. In the syntactic mode, they
assess whether the student has his dates right, her facts straight,
has correctly parsed a sentence, correctly applied a proof, use
appropriate symbols in an engineering diagram, written a program
that compiles, quoted Mill correctly, or successfully identified
Shakespeare as English. In the semantic mode, they assess whether a
historical description captures the mood of the times, whether a
recitation of facts is relevant, whether a sentence flows, whether
a proof is elegant, whether a diagram is neat and illustrative,
whether a program is easy to use, whether Mill makes sense and
whether Shakespeare's English is understood in context.
Obviously, no assessment of student work is complete without
both the semantic and the syntactic mode of evaluation (though
teachers are often criticized for ignoring grammar and spelling,
even accuracy, in student essays, searching for that soft and fuzzy
'meaning' underlying the garbled scribble they see before
them). So also it is with university instruction. Ignoring the
syntactic misses the question of whether they are learning at all;
ignoring the semantic ignores the question of how well they are
learning. Ignoring the syntactic misses the question of whether a
journal article follows correct procedure; ignoring the semantic
ignores the question of whether it says anything worth reading. Two
forms of assessment: and necessarily, two forms of evaluation.
Now the kicker: academics' evaluation of themselves, insofar
as it occurs at all, is almost entirely semantic. Or to put the
same point another way, there is almost no standards-based
measurement of an academic's performance except, perhaps, for
adherence to the all-powerful (and misapplied) bell curve.
'Peer review' is argued to be the traditional mode of
academic evaluation. No doubt it is traditional, and widely
practiced. But it is only half of a reasonable evaluation, and not
even a very good half at that.
In my country, and no doubt in many others, we have a polite
fiction called 'trial by your peers.' The idea is that in a
jury trial, guilt or innocence will be determined by a panel of
citizens similar to yourself. As I say, it's a polite fiction.
I recently discovered that in Alberta (perhaps elsewhere),
potential juries are selected from the set of people who have
driver's licenses. This explains why I have never been selected
for jury duty: I don't drive. But it also de-selects a certain,
lower, stratum of society (one, oddly, corresponding with the set
of 'peers' of many a convict, but I digress). Similar
selection practices in other countries demonstrate a similar bias:
selecting juries from the list of registered voters, for example,
de-selects those people who, for one reason or another, are not
registered to vote. Again, the weighting here is toward the upper
stratum of society.
But there's more. When a particular individual is brought
before the court, both the prosecution and the defense have the
right to veto a certain number of jurors. Any number of criteria
come into play: people are disqualified because of their race,
gender, occupation, residence, and more. Often, they are
disqualified because of their opinions. Because I am an opponent of
the death penalty, for example, I would never be selected as a
juror in a capital case in the United States (so I understand).
Naturally, this predisposes the jury toward a panel that will opt
for the death penalty in such cases.
I have long wondered why gang members, homeless people, and
other social outcasts never seem to be selected for juries. Of
course, it's because the concept of 'trial by your
peers' is a fiction. It really means, 'trial by your
betters'. Or at the very least, 'trial by people who think
in the right sort of way.'
In popular opinion at least - and I am of the same view - the
reliability of jury trials is questionable. Since the not so recent
OJ trial, or the less vividly remembered Claus von Bulow trial,
people have come to see jury trials as not so much of an exercise
in justice as in manipulation. Social activists will reel off a
list of people wrongly convicted by juries on the scantiest of
evidence. Jury trials, at least some of the time, are much less an
exercise in justice than of prejudice.
Now imagine the same system, but without any standards at all:
without rule of law, to guide guilty and innocent verdicts and
appropriate penalties; without rules of evidence to distinguish
fact from fiction from hearsay; with no limits whatsoever on the
biases, prejudices or qualifications of jurors. In essence, mob
rule, with none of the standards that today (sort of) protect the
innocent from wrongful incarceration, the guilty from dangerous
liberty.
Such is the essence of peer review. Is it any wonder it draws a
society-wide roll of the eyes?
'Peer review' in academia is no such thing. Otherwise,
we would see graduate students and even interested lay people on
academic review committees. No, journal review boards especially
are populated with the academic elite, those whose publications and
scholarly presentations have established their authority in the
field. Nor is their selection random: constructivist journals do
not select rabid anti-constructivists to review articles; Marxist
journals do not recruit people from the Fraser Institute to edit
their publications.
The actual review is secretive and closed-door. Nobody knows
what process of reasoning, if any, occurs when professors are
evaluating a colleague's work. The results, at least from the
eyes of the lay person, are less than impressive: reams of
dime-a-dozen articles in unread academic journals, arcane
dissertation topics suitable especially for ridicule by the
national newspaper, forgotten theses read by an audience of three
(and here I think of my own unlamented "Models and
Modality"). Authors do not even know who their reviewers are,
much less whether they are peers in any meaningful sense of the
word. And woe betides the author who is not willing to acknowledge
duly established Authority. 'Trial by people who think in the
right sort of way' indeed.
In the case of journal articles and publications, peer reviewers
at least (we think) read the works they are reviewing. No such
exposure to the actual product being reviewed occurs in the case of
teaching. It is folly - and rightfully recognized as such - to dub
the review of a professor by peers who have never seen him teach as
some sort of assessment. Such a review has everything to do with
how the itinerant behaves in the Faculty Club and nothing to do
with the sort of education he or she has left behind in the mind of
his or her students.
Peer review has its place, as does any sort of qualitative
assessment, but to make it the sole - even the primary -
determinant of academic merit is beyond foolishness. It creates,
quite rightly, in the minds of the public the image of a
self-serving cadre of Old Boys who all think they are wonderful and
who collectively exhibit wisdom so great that the word
'genius' is an insult and a slur. Closed-door
self-evaluation is as reliable in academia as it is in the airline
industry or the food processing industry, which is to say, not
effective at all.
Academia would do well to open its system of assessment and
review to (a) quantifiable standards, and (b) an open review
process. Something like a system of standards - call them learning
objectives, performance outcomes, whatever you will - should apply
to graduates of a given class. Society should be able to know,
without having to take Jo Blogg's word, that an A in logic 101
means that the student can recognize some basic logical fallacies
and can string together a simple argument. That's not so hard:
and there's even a standardized test for critical thinking.
And there is no reason why academic performance cannot be the
subject of open and public review. There is no reason to restrict
readers to a panel of three mysterious experts: works up for review
should be publicly viewable and reviewed by anybody who cares to
read them. Journals may even rely on those very reviewers, but the
publication of a poor article by even a good journal will be widely
recognized as such. And there is no reason why students cannot
evaluate professors, and if the results cannot be posted on a
website, then students should at least have the option of
expressing their views by taking the same course from another
professor or even another institution.
None of this infringes on the professor's ability to do as
he or she sees fit: however, when a review process exposes poor and
shoddy work, as it inevitably will, such perpetrators will
invariably be held to account. Which is as it should be: in
academia as much as in airplanes.
The Implications of Reform
Let's revisit the "Privatization Scenario" as a whole before
we conclude.
The privatizers, runs the argument, want to massify, marketize
and managerialize education. They want to change its vocabulary.
This new vocabulary brings with it the practices of industry, not
the practices of the new information economy, but older factory
based notions of production, Total Quality Management and ISO
9000.
Academics are being asked to choose sides. They are being asked
to determine whether ultimate privatization is the intent of the
new rhetoric and the new directions in learning, especially online
and distance learning. And they are being asked to decide whether
they support or oppose the drive to reform education, to reform it,
as they say, in the image of business and industry. They see those
people who are advocates of reform as being, wittingly or not,
allies of the drive toward privatization. And they - and I -
believe that the future of education hinges on this decision.
It would be better, I submit, if academics such as Steve Eskow
and David Noble would avoid framing the argument in such a false
dilemma. It would be better not to use such loaded
terminology, calculated as much to inflame as to argue. This seems
close to the tactics of southern lawyers arguing toward a carefully
preselected and predisposed jury. They want to paint all advocates
with the same brush, and they are not above quoting some carefully
selected Freudian mythology in order to drive their points home.
They would have you believe that if you support any part of the
reforms described above then you are the same as the Great Satan,
the corporate sellout, the soulless butcher who would cut the
throat of a fair institution in a minute if only given the
chance.
But: those people who are persuaded by this crusade are
hastening that very act of homicide, sure as the sun rises in the
east. By perpetuating the idea that any change in academia is a
knife in its back, they are freezing the university system into an
unsustainable stasis, ensuring that even the slightest attempt at
an improved system from the corporate side of the house will be
successful.
It is interesting - ironic, even - that the opponents of reform
paint two divides: on the one hand, the collegial university
system; on the other hand, the cold, calculating world of business
and industry. But there are not two solitudes here, there is only
one. Were they to look about society around them, they would find
that all manner of enterprises follow the dicta of client service,
accountability, efficiency and reliance on standards. Not only
industry, but also sports, recreational travel, home repair,
cooking, amateur astronomy... absolutely, utterly everything but
education (and perhaps some handmade wooden crafts shops).
It turns out, in the wider world, that people do not want to
spend their time and money (a) meeting someone else's needs,
(b) paying for work that doesn't need to be done, (c) not
knowing the results, (d) not knowing what is being produced, and
(e) more than they can afford. If this is the picture of academia
that the traditionalists are defending, then it is doomed, and if
by falling it must fall into corporate hands, then their own logic
has as its inevitable consequence the privatization of
education.
And that would be a bad thing: but not simply because some
academics don't like it (and not simply because it doesn't
meet their arbitrary standards of quality - whatever that is) but
because, remember, they are opposed to standards.
Intellectual Wealth and Society
At the beginning of this treatise I spoke of the privatization
of knowledge. I would like to say here that if the university
system (and the public education system in general) fails, then
this will result in the privatization of knowledge. Even that is in
itself not a bad thing - I have already acknowledged that there
ought to be latitude for ownership of knowledge, whether it be by
virtue of copyright on an essay, ownership of a patent on an
invention, or some similar claim to intellectual or emotional
property.
But the market economy, as I also suggested, works only if there
is an adequate supply of the commodity in question. Once a scarcity
is achieved, the market breaks down: We move into a monopoly (or
duopoly, etc) mode in which prices rise all out of proportion to
the value of the commodity and in which a substantial portion of
the population is forced to do without.
With the rise of the information economy we have seen not only a
concerted attempt to privatize knowledge but, concordantly, an
effort to create artificial shortages in knowledge. Where once
books circulated freely, were shared and loaned, read by the
thousands in libraries, sometimes photocopied, sometimes
transcribed by hand, there is today a movement afoot to create the
single-use book, an entity that may be viewed but never reproduced
nor shared nor copied in any form. Where once academics freely
circulated copies of their article abstracts, exchanged ideas at
conferences and conventions, today we see sponsored research,
per-user subscriptions to e-journals, non-disclosure agreements,
and more.
Clearly this is damaging to the intellectual wealth of society
as a whole, because not everybody can afford to pay $24.95 for each
knowledge-product per annum, much less amass a permanent and useful
library of e-readings. Where once we could at least alleviate some
of the strife in developing nations by sending them books and
magazines, today we are told that such action constitutes a
violation of copyright - it is not even legal to load our used copy
of Windows 3.1 on used computers to send to East Timor, as some
Australians found out.
But it is damaging also because it limits the voices we can
hear. Just as top 40 radio streams consumers into a megastar
mentality, so also dissenting voices disappear when knowledge is
controlled by corporations and dispensed in pre-approved (and
costly) allotments. We are all too aware of the Russian programmer,
recently arrested in the United States for writing forbidden
software, or the professor in (as I recall) Princeton who was
ordered not to publish a decryption algorithm. But it is much more
pernicious and much deeper than that. It is the expulsion of a boy
who wore a Pepsi shirt to 'Coke Day' at his school. A
privatized system of education will not allow students to express,
or even hear, a dissenting voice.
The World Championships in Athletics are being held here in
Edmonton as I write. The championships are sponsored (in part), and
thereby essentially owned (in part) by Nike. As a columnist in the
Edmonton Journal observed, Nike's influence is pervasive. At a
press conference in which a renowned anti-doping athlete was asked
to comment on the reinstatement of a competitor, the Nike spokesman
intervened to assert that athletes would not be answering questions
about doping. Bad for the image, you see.
We tend to think that the corporate control of information is
about big things, like freedom of speech and the right to protest:
and it is. But it is manifest in a deluge of little things, and
bit-by-bit, our knowledge and our freedom are slowly eroded. And
we're back to being the Paddington Bears, not merely because we
cannot utter any opposition to this ethos, but because we cannot
conceive of one.
The fall of public education in this country and in this world
would be a disaster of the greatest magnitude, resulting in the
descent of a corporate curtain of ignorance. Failing to move,
failing to respond to the need for a greater, more vigorous system
of public knowledge than ever, is to silently, stupidly,
acquiesce.
I am astonished that educators today are not knowledge
guerillas, silently and stealthily subverting the corporate agenda
through the covert education of as many people by whatever means
possible. I cannot believe that academics today steadfastly defend
their bastions of privilege, ignorant of the fact that the castles
they so rigorously fortify will defend a totalitarian regime that
will upset their tottering rule. Academics must, in order to
survive at all, obtain the support of the people, but they will not
do this if they withhold from people the one thing they value.
I know that there are many open-source and open-content
academics in the community working hard to stem the advance. It is
a race against time, creating public domain knowledge management
systems, public domain encyclopedias, courseware, almanacs, maps
and illustrations, literacy guides, media readers, free textbooks,
trying like townspeople in the face of the invading army to hide as
much of the community chest as possible before the hordes descend
to lay claim to everything they see. Hide, hide the knowledge where
they'll never think to look for it - among the people.
Academics who defend their privilege in such a short sighted and
misguided manner are like those who, citing the long-standing
tradition of ownership and privilege, sit on their treasure,
thereby safeguarding it for the arrival of the invaders.
I really think that universities best protect themselves by
doing the one thing they can do better than corporations: producing
and distributing knowledge. But they must do it in such a way that
it remains better than the corporate alternative. This means mass
education. This means a marketplace of educational opportunities.
This means top-flight educational resources produced by teams of
experts. This means a student focus. This means efficiency,
accountability and productivity. This means open standards and open
evaluations. This means, above all, reform.
Academics are at the crossroads. They could, collectively, use
new technology and new techniques to produce a flowering of human
intellect the like of which has never been imagined. Or they can
hunker down, cling to their privilege, and usher in the
twenty-first century equivalent of wage labor and cutthroat
knowledge capitalism.
Remember, the chains you most fear are the chains you forge
yourselves.
My thanks to Steve Eskow, John Hibbs, Guy Bensusan and Tom
Abeles for contributing to the discussion that led to this essay.
My thanks to Andrew Thompson for editing and revisions.
Bibliography
Downes, Stephen. 2001. Spotlight Site: XanEdu. The Technology
Source, July/August, 2001.
http://www.horizon.unc.edu/TS/default.asp?show=article&id=887
Eskow, Steve. 2001. Cutting the Throat of the University. Post
to DEOS-L: 5 August.
http://lists.psu.edu/cgi-bin/wa?A2=ind0108&L=deos-l&O=A&P=6287
Lynch, Clifford. 2001. The Battle to Define the Future of the
Book in the Digital World. First Monday, Volume 6, Number 6. http://www.firstmonday.dk/issues/issue6_6/lynch/index.html
Noble, David. 1998. Digital Diploma Mills: The Automation of
Higher Education. First Monday, Volume 3, Number 1. http://www.firstmonday.dk/issues/issue3_1/noble/
Young, Jeffrey. 1997. Rethinking the Role of the Professor in an
Age of High-Tech Tools. The Chronicle of Higher Education. http://chronicle.com/colloquy/97/unbundle/background.htm
About the Author
Stephen Downes is an information architect employed by the
Faculty of Extension at the University of Alberta in Edmonton,
Alberta, Canada. He is also employed on a contract position to
design and build a major Internet resource called MuniMall, a
one-stop site for all components of the municipal affairs sector
and municipalities in Alberta.
Previous to this position, Downes was employed as a distance
education and new instructional media design specialist with
Assiniboine Community College in Brandon, Manitoba, Canada. Prior
to that, he taught philosophy by distance for Athabasca University.
Downes holds a BA and an MA, both in philosophy, from the
University of Calgary. Stephen Downes may be reached via email: stephen.downes@ualberta.ca
His many interests and websites are listed below.
Information Architect, University of Alberta: http://www.munimall.net
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