Todd Oppenheimer is not a Luddite. That it is important to
mention a caveat like that in a discussion of educational
technology speaks to the pervasiveness of technology and the
strength of our collective faith in its transforming potential.
It is an important caveat though because Oppenheimer has produced
a 400-page indictment of one of the most popular (and expensive)
school reforms of the past twenty years: The massive effort to
put computers and technology in the nation's classrooms. Seeing
him as a reflexive opponent of technology would make it too easy
to dismiss his important observations out of hand.
In The Flickering Mind Oppenheimer walks readers
through a history of computers in school, the bold promises about
technology’s potential, some case studies about various
communities, and some general ideas about ways he thinks schools
must now reform the technology reform. Along the way he offers
some penetrating insights and interesting reporting about the
impact of technology on education and he sounds some useful
cautions. However, though I share many of Oppenheimer’s
concerns and share many of his conclusions, The Flickering
Mind is in places a frustrating book because it reads with
the confidence of an analysis that is easier in hindsight than at
the messy inception of an idea. But this gets ahead of the
story.
The idea of technology in education is nothing new. The
current generation of proponents of e-learning, distance
learning, online classes and so forth stand on the shoulders of
previous generations who have tried to improve on the basic
teacher to student relationship. Oppenheimer notes this and
gives a brief summary of the various educational promises made on
behalf of “technology” long before computers were
anything more than the imaginings of futurists and dreamers. He
recounts the enthusiasm of Thomas Edison for motion pictures as a
way to revolutionize teaching and later similar predictions from
others about radios. He also discusses the federal
government’s first forays into technology, which would
later grow into major programs and initiatives.
His reporting is vivid. Oppenheimer goes inside schools in
Harlem, rural West Virginia, Napa, California and Maryland's
affluent Montgomery County to paint a fascinating picture of
their experiences with technology in classrooms. This is no mean
feat. Writing about what happens inside schools with texture and
perspective is a challenging task, especially when policy issues
are also involved. Oppenheimer succeeds in conveying both an
account of the experience of these schools and how it relates to
his larger narrative.
He takes us to Hundred, West Virginia, the sort of small
isolated community that does not jump to mind when thinking about
the dot.com revolution. But Hundred High School has many of the
whiz-bang gadgets that you would expect to find in any latte
soaked Seattle company. Yet it is no panacea. Oppenheimer
writes about a math class, graphing equations using computers.
The computers enable the students to work faster and plot more
graphs and tackle more problems in class as a result. These are
ostensibly exactly the sort of enhancements that proponents of
technology seek. But, before they get to work, Oppenheimer
reports that it takes the teacher 20 minutes of valuable class
time just to get all the students ready to use their computers
for the lesson. Perhaps in the end trade-offs like this are
worth it: the additional time spent getting things in order is
outweighed by the increased productivity the technology will
generate over time. Oppenheimer doubts it, no one knows for
sure, but everyone on all sides of the technology debate can
agree that there are trade-offs. It's just one example of how
technology is not an absolute blessing in the
classroom.
In New York City, Oppenheimer relays the frustration of
teachers who have computers and other gizmos dropped in their
classrooms and are unable to use them, get support or service and
ultimately end up frustrated with what amounts to overpriced
paperweights cluttering up their space. He argues that rather
than blaming the teachers, or just calling for more training for
them, these problems are symptomatic of deeper problems with the
current approach to technology in schools.
In the end, these and other problems convince Oppenheimer that
the current tradeoffs are not balance positive for students and
schools. Aside from the distractions and shortfalls of much of
the hardware, he argues that even when everything is working like
it should the internet is too often merely a data dump of
information some valuable, some incomplete, some biased or
misleading, and some flat out wrong. The problem, as he sees it,
is that like other media sources a critical view is necessary for
active and informed consumption. He worries that the passive
nature of the internet experience for many students, and the
reliance on technology rather than teaching that often comes with
it, is dulling these skills if imparting them at
all.
Those promoting technology, whether in government or
industry, come in for particular criticism for fostering this
state of affairs. Oppenheimer chastises Clinton Administration
officials for their unbridled enthusiasm about technology and
many of their efforts to expand its reach in schools. To be
sure, various industries stand to gain or lose a lot depending on
government policies and companies promoting classroom technology
are no exception. Consequently they're not shy about pushing
their agenda with those in government. But technology’s
biggest boosters in the administration and the public sector in
general are not craven, opportunistic, or deluded by lobbyists.
Rather they are motivated by the best of
intentions.
And that’s a big part of the problem, Edison was sincere
too. Like many educational policy issues, this one boils down
in no small part to a clash between good intentions, practical
realities, and what historians Larry Cuban and David Tyack have
called “the grammar of schooling,” namely the
enduring characteristics of education that are slow to change.
Some of the educational problems that Flickering
chronicles are neither unique to nor caused by technology, and in
places the book does read like a fault finding mission made easy
through the lens of hindsight. Still, there are trenchant
observations in Flickering with important implications.
Oppenheimer notes that it is entirely possible that some of the
inequities that plague our schools will only be exacerbated not
lessened by technology. This is not the well known concern about
a “digital divide” in access, but rather a subtler
problem of differences in the curriculum, teaching, and learning
between affluent children and other children. After all, despite
the prevalence of technology in the lives and work of
upper-middle class professionals, the kind of schools they most
often seek out for their own children tend to emphasize small
classes, personal connectedness, and quality interactions between
teachers and students.
But technology has reach in education beyond the classroom.
Unfortunately, Oppenheimer does not deeply examine its potential
outside the classroom. Here is where technology may help us
address larger issues. For instance, the venerable financial
analysis firm Standard and Poor's has developed a data platform
that allows policymakers, and the public, to examine educational
performance, expenditures, demographics, and other variables.
Just a few years ago, this sort of analytic leverage was a pipe
dream for wonks and analysts. Likewise, on-line assessments are
showing early promise to lessen the amount of time devoted to
student testing, get results back to teachers faster, and offer
greater sensitivity than today’s pencil and paper tests.
Over time, initiatives like these, which complement teaching
rather than seeking to fundamentally change or replace it, may
well have a more lasting impact on what happens inside
classrooms.
Flickering should not be read as a determinative
verdict on the potential of technology in schools but
Oppenheimer’s cautions are worth heeding as the educational
technology juggernaut goes forward. Besides the issues he
raises, a tempered enthusiasm and critical eye are healthy
considering that, for all its promise, technology alone cannot
solve some basic problems in education, for example the
“preparation gap” that starts poor children off in
school on an uneven footing or funding disparities between
different states and school. In terms of classroom
applicability it's regrettable, though, that Oppenheimer largely
stays away from making recommendations of his own beyond
generalities and related educational issues such as funding and
teacher pay and respect. Those issues are not unimportant, and
he's right in noting that educators are bombarded with plenty of
recommendations and advice as it is. Yet on the heels of a
critique like this it seems like a cop-out.
In the end, Oppenheimer is right that technology in schools
hasn't been an unbridled dot.com boon. Nor, however, has it been
a dot.com bust and the potential remains impressive. Thankfully,
not unlike shrewd investors in the dot.coms, savvy educators are
becoming more particular about technology and are internalizing
the lessons of the recent past. Like most things, progress here
will be messy and full of mistakes and false starts, but despite
the problems there are signs of progress nonetheless. Today we
shake our heads when we consider that the ubiquitous Blackberries
have more computing power than the spacecraft that took Americans
to the moon. A generation hence we may look back on the infancy
of classroom technology with similar bewilderment.
About the Reviewer
Andrew J. Rotherham is co-director of Education Sector
(www.educationsector.org), a senior fellow at the Progressive
Policy Institute, and a member of the Virginia Board of
Education. He writes the blog Eduwonk.com. Rotherham previously
served at The White House as Special Assistant to the President
for Domestic Policy. He managed education policy activities at
the White House and advised President Clinton on a wide range of
education issues including the reauthorization of the Elementary
and Secondary Education Act, charter schools and public school
choice, improving educational options for disadvantaged students,
and increasing accountability in federal policy. Rotherham also
led the White House Domestic Policy Council education team, the
youngest person to have done so.
Copyright is retained by the first or sole author,
who grants right of first publication to the Education Review.
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