Professor, Teach Thyself

There's an excellent article$ by Jeffrey Brainard in the Chronicle of Higher Education this week about the way science is taught in most research universities. Basically, people have known for a long time--decades or more--that some ways of teaching science are better than others. When classes are designed in way that requires a lot of inter-student collaboration, hands-on learning, and regular feedback from the faculty, students learn more. When students are stuck in the back of a lecture hall passively listening someone drone through notes they've used for years, they learn less.

But many research universities have been slow to adopt best practices in teaching, if they adopt them at all? Why? Because research universities aren't designed to care about teaching. All the incentives--financial, professional, and institutional--are for (surprise) research. So even as Congress is pouring hundreds of millions of dollars into financial aid programs designed to induce students to major in science, universities refuse to give those students the kind of education that the universities themselves have determined students need. For example:

Innovators...are limited in what they can achieve, says Susan B. Millar, a senior scientist in the School of Education at the University of Wisconsin at Madison who studies teaching in science and engineering. "I don't know that you can take these kinds of programs to scale when the unit of change is the individual," she says. "You can only do that for so long, until you get tired or retire. And then it doesn't spread."

Top administrators are loath to force change on departments. "I'm very reluctant to define successful and unsuccessful ways in which this can be done," says Patrick V. Farrell, provost and vice chancellor for academic affairs at Madison, where some of the new teaching methods were developed. "I don't want to say, 'Lectures don't work, but group learning does.' In some contexts that's true; in other contexts, it's not. I'm looking for effectiveness in helping students learn."

I'm not sure which is worse: the anti-empiricism, or the total disregard for students? The only reason the University of Wisconsin provost "doesn't want to say" what the education researchers at the University of Wisconsin know to be true is that would mean having an argument with the faculty that he'd rather not have. One of the unfortunate side effects of giving college professors academic freedom when it comes to their speech and scholarship--and those are undeniably good things--is that the concept has been extended to their teaching to a degree that produces absurd reasoning like this. Obviously, college professors should be given a lot of lattitude to innovate and teach, but to say that the subject essentially can't even be discussed is nuts, and bad for students.

But hey, I could be wrong. If someone sends evidence that UW-Madison is actually evaluating its faculty for their "effectiveness in helping students learn" in any kind of reliable, empirical, public way--not just student evaluations, but something tied to real evidence of learning--I'd be more than happy to retract everything above.