I teach philosophy courses at the college level. One of my goals in class is to disabuse students of a popular model of education in which students learn passively, absorbing information and knowledge from hearing a lecture. In this simplistic model, the teacher is the fount of information, or even an expert, transferring knowledge by initiating a process not unlike osmosis.
This model is popular at least in part because there is something right about it. In a lecture setting, it is possible to transfer information through a simple process of speaking and listening. So, it is not completely wrong. Yet even what this model gets right is easily misunderstood, as listening is an activity and not merely a passive reception of information. Listening takes effort, and attention, and when done well it involves critical thinking and even something like a dialogue in the mind of the listener.
Active Learning
I advocate an alternative model of education that emphasizes the active role of a student. Learning, too, is an activity. It is something that students do. Teachers cannot themselves “learn” students, as in: bring it about that students learn. (The ungrammatical feel here seems telling – ‘learn’ is an active verb, but it is not comfortably used with a person as its object.) The old adage You can bring a horse to water but you cannot make it drink often seems appropriate in educational contexts.
Students must learn for themselves. We learn by engaging with what we read, hear, and observe. A disengaged student cannot learn, and this disproves the osmosis-model of education.
There are levels to educational engagement. To be fully engaged, first, one must pay attention, which seems increasingly more difficult as technology like cell phones distracts us and prevents us from focusing for extended periods. Second, one must articulate and consider which questions are being addressed by the information one is observing: What is the issue? This too is an activity, noticing an issue at hand, although it is usually done automatically or unconsciously. Third, one must consider how those questions could be addressed differently, or whether other questions ought to be put forward as an issue at hand. (I do not pretend this is an exhaustive list.)
I believe that learning depends, in part, on natural and acquired abilities (to read, to listen, to think critically and intelligently, etc.). However, it also importantly depends on the effort that students make to learn and to actively engage. A student’s engagement is the key factor under their control in the classroom, in the library, and outside the traditional contexts of learning. Indeed, it is outside such contexts where acquired information becomes solidified into something like learning or knowledge, as one continues (automatically or deliberately) to think about and engage with the issues that one actively noticed were raised.
In sum, engaged learning requires an active, inner dialogue. Recognizing this may help us all, teachers and students alike, improve as thinkers and learners.
Humble Teaching
My alternative model of education also acknowledges the ignorance of teachers. While teachers can be expert in some things, like math, the notion of expertise is problematic in the courses I teach such as ‘Social and Political Philosophy’, ‘Ethical Theory’, and ‘Critical Thinking about Moral Problems.’ A teacher’s perspective can be more informed, or more reflective, than a student’s, but there is no in-principle privilege to any person’s perspective on the fundamental questions of justice, freedom, equality, morality, and values. Also, we should not pretend that teachers are fully informed and fully reflective.
If a teacher can honestly confess to lacking knowledge, as the prelude to demonstrating a sincere search for it, it helps put the teacher on a closer level with students as they engage together in the process of learning. I claim that humility is a virtue in a teacher, and that recognizing one’s own ignorance can set a good example for students. (Some students may be prone to see humility as a weakness, but honesty and forthrightness are clear strengths. Also, remember that students may need to be disabused of their stereotypes of education.) I take this insight from Plato’s Socrates, while leaving behind any idea that philosophers are naturally privileged with better access to important truths.
To clarify, I do not deny that some perspectives are objectively better than others at accessing the truth. The implication is instead that we all are fallible when it comes to understanding, appreciating, and then acting according to reasons for accepting or rejecting claims about values, morals, justice and injustice.
We teachers ought to take up the role of learners in our own classrooms, and be forthright about that.
If a teacher can honestly confess to lacking knowledge, as the prelude to demonstrating a sincere search for it, it helps put the teacher on a closer level with students as they engage together in the process of learning. I claim that humility is a virtue in a teacher, and that recognizing one’s own ignorance can set a good example for students. (Some students may be prone to see humility as a weakness, but honesty and forthrightness are clear strengths. Also, remember that students may need to be disabused of their stereotypes of education.) I take this insight from Plato’s Socrates, while leaving behind any idea that philosophers are naturally privileged with better access to important truths.
To clarify, I do not deny that some perspectives are objectively better than others at accessing the truth. The implication is instead that we all are fallible when it comes to understanding, appreciating, and then acting according to reasons for accepting or rejecting claims about values, morals, justice and injustice.
We teachers ought to take up the role of learners in our own classrooms, and be forthright about that.
