CAN WE TEACH CHILDREN TO THINK?
"Teaching thinking skills," another "movement" currently passing through the educational system, is a response to a growing concern that Johnny can't think any better than he can read. Programs attempting to teach thinking skills are selling like hotcakes at teachers' conferences and workshops. Yet critics scornfully point out it is a contradiction in terms to rely on packets, workbooks, computer drills, and worksheets to engage students' higher cognitive abilities. On this question lies the crux of the argument: Are so-called "thinking skills" best taught by setting aside a special time for mental calisthenics and then hoping they will transfer to other sorts of learning? Or are "thinking skills" better served by teaching all subjects in ways that draw students toward higher-level reasoning by the nature of the materials and the problems presented? The most generally prevailing opinion (aside from the purveyors of "thinking skills" programs) is that persistence and flexibility in problem-solving should be incorporated into overall teaching goals, modeled and supported in every discipline -- provided, of course, that the teacher's own thinking skills are up to the task. Some educators also have hopes for computer programs that expand and may be able to challenge reasoning skills.
"Critical thinking," a primary goal of all such programs, is hard to pin down. How can it be measured? How does it develop? "Slickly packaged materials do not necessarily create good critical thinkers," says Dr. Marilyn Wilson of Michigan State University in a recent article that also raises several important questions. Is critical thinking out of place in a traditionally structured classroom? Is society ready for critically thinking students? [1]
Many educators have trouble with the idea of upsetting traditional ways of teaching and encouraging mental autonomy in their students. Yet true critical thinking cannot simply be added to the curriculum like driver training.
A Superficial "Fix"
Not long ago I had a disheartening look at an attempt to lay a superficial "fix" on students' thinking. I was leading a graduate course on the teaching of reading. My students, reading teachers from inner-city high schools, had been required to teach a nationally heralded program of "thinking skills." On the first night of class, they made their opinions clear. They thought this program was terrible. It was true, they acknowledged, that many of their students were extremely poor readers with comprehension scores considerably below grade level, but the teachers were required to spend class time on "thinking skills" instead of what they saw as badly needed reading instruction. Their major beef was that the program consisted of an extensive (and expensive) series of workbooks and worksheets that the students often did not understand -- but that they were required to cover.
I was skeptical. What could be so bad about teaching poor comprehenders to reason more effectively? As soon as I asked the question, I was besieged with invitations to visit their classrooms. "Come and see for yourself," they said.
I began with a teacher who was clearly one of the most lively, turned-on, and thoughtful of the group. Arriving in the high school where she taught, I was escorted by a guard to her room, where she was about to begin her first class of the day. Her twenty-eight juniors were among the statistical survivors of a system where over half their classmates had already dropped out. As the bell rang, she took a large key from her belt and locked her classroom door -- standard practice while in session. I noticed that she swung a baton resembling a small billy club -- also standard issue -- during the class period, but there was never a reason to use it. Her students were courteous, friendly, and their affection and respect were obviously returned in kind.
The day's worksheets were distributed. Each day brought a new lesson; whether or not the students had understood the last one. This lesson consisted of a long list of complex analogies calling heavily on abstract verbal categorization skills. They were phrased in high school to college level vocabulary. The teacher demonstrated solving two problems on the board, then the students started to work. I joined her as she circulated among the desks, trying to answer individual questions. It soon became clear that most of the kids, whose tested reading abilities ranged mainly between third- and eighth-grade level, could not understand this assignment at all. Indeed, as I puzzled over some of the problems, I decided they would make challenging work for a group of graduate students.
Of the class, eight or ten noble souls persisted in trying to make some sense out of this thing (the rest just filled in the blanks with any old word and then sat staring out the window or making faces at each other). Some of their reasoning was extremely sophisticated, although not of the type demanded here. One boy kept saying, "I know there's a trick, if I can only figure it out." I could not explain to him that the "trick" had already been played -- by administrators who thought they could "make" certain types of thinking happen by decree.
Soon the bell rang, the teacher unlocked her door, and the students left, convinced once again by their loving school system that learning was a mystery and they were all inadequate. I found myself admiring them for hanging in there for so long -- and feeling within myself the rage that must impel violent acts.
Of course this program's creators did not intend for it to be implemented this way. Of course the administration of this school district thought they were helping students learn better. Of course the teacher would have preferred to engage her students' interest and their genuine thinking skills with some of the many good books that would be readable, accessible, and meaningful to them. Of course, in a different context, such exercises may be useful, even enjoyable. But trying to teach the art of reasoning or problem-solving as if it were one more bit of content to be covered in a forty-minute period is clearly not the answer. The most frustrating thing for me is knowing that, with time and good teaching, many -- if not most -- of these students could learn successfully and become productive to themselves and to their community.
"Mindware"
Dr. David Perkins of Harvard believes we must take a much broader view of thinking for all children. Describing "a new science of learnable intelligence," Perkins advocates helping children and young people build flexible "mindware": abilities to organize and reorganize their patterns of thinking. He recommends getting them personally engaged -- at school and at home, when it is possible -- in mental challenges such as decision-making or inventive thinking about open-ended questions ("How are automobiles like books?" "How are rules for society like the rules for fractions?"). Clearly, the level of the challenges must fit the students, who will need guidance in developing and clarifying their ideas for more abstract questions.
Can some students just naturally reason more effectively than others? Every brain has an individual neurological basis for efficiency and effectiveness, says Perkins, but human beings are not "boxed in by neurology." His "triarchic" model of intelligence starts with inborn physical foundations in the neural system, but also includes two other layers: mastery of content (e.g., the multiplication tables, how to play chess, how to make cookies) and the development of patterns of thought. Although most current teaching concentrates on content (much of it "lower-order," he suggests), patterns of thought are, perhaps, the most important of all. Students must be shown how to use thinking in broader and more flexible ways.
"Don't assume that by getting kids just to think more, they'll get better at it," he cautions. They particularly need exposure to "metacognitive" models that enable them to use verbal skills to interpret and plan, to "mediate" experience. These skills are the foundation of good "mindware." [2]
Other leading educators urge broadened views for preparing students to think and reason effectively in tomorrow's world. Grant Wiggins, of the Coalition of Essential Schools, agrees we must stop focusing on limited goals of "content" and start thinking of education in terms of "intellectual habits."
"We don't teach kids intelligent strategies, we assume them -- but even kids in the best schools don't have them," he told me. Students soon forget three-quarters of what is commonly taught and tested. Careful reading, mathematical reasoning, note-taking skills, understanding abstract concepts such as irony or inertia -- all are habits, he says, that require extended practice throughout the school years. [3] These skills are the ones we internalize, use, and will increasingly need in the future.
In an era when more children come to schools less equipped with essential habits of mind to master "intelligent strategies," schools must reset their priorities to include them. Habits of mind, however, should not be separated from significant content. The challenge -- too often unmet -- is to infuse intellectual habits into the teaching of reading, writing, science, history, and math.
Members of a National Academy of Sciences committee recently declared current teaching to be an anachronism in an information age. Cramming children full of "factlets" and forgetting to focus on understanding is a problem exacerbated by the use of standardized tests, they point out. Citing most biology teaching as an example of an "outdated failure" that promotes memorization without understanding, this group is rewriting the entire science curriculum to include more in-depth laboratory work (another opportunity for "contextualized learning," by the way) and exploration of important concepts. [4] Computer simulations, in which students get first-hand experience solving real scientific problems, may ultimately provide one avenue to this goal.
Continuity and Meaning for the Two-Minute Mind
To develop strategic thinking, victims of the two-minute episode need help in seeing connections between ideas. Their courses should stress coherence rather than fragmentation, not only within each discipline, but across them as well (e.g., How are the trends you're studying in history related to ideas from English, art, physics, or music class?). At home, parents should keep this same principle in mind (e.g., "Have you noticed the tigers we saw in the zoo look a lot like your kitten?" "Do you think this story is anything like the one we read last week?"). But many families do not -- or cannot -- take the time to model this type of reasoning.
In previous times, points out Stanford's Dr. Eliot Eisner, many sources in children's lives outside of school provided continuity and meaning. This is no longer the case for many students where schools may provide their only opportunity for a "connected experience." Yet, most high school students he interviewed said they don't expect to encounter connections between one subject and another. "We must move away from programs and methods and incentives that breed short-term compliance and short-term memory," he insists. [5]
One way in which many teachers have already started helping students see connections and develop "intelligent strategies" is by including more "hands-on" activities. For a generation with short attention spans for listening, most successful teachers today also stress the necessity of including more visual types of presentations along with "talk." Projects and problem-solving situations in which children work alone or in groups with materials they can see and manipulate are particularly effective in math and science, but other "hands-on" activities such as dramatizations and debates can make learning real while maintaining a high level of intellectual discourse in English, history, and foreign language classes. While this type of learning has long been validated for younger children, educators have tended to forget that even adults may need to learn something for the first time by doing rather than simply hearing about it. Parents often believe that projects are only "busy work," but they, too, should recognize their value and encourage their child to work through the problem with a minimum of help -- even if the results aren't perfect! One of the most important things all parents can do, even if they are themselves very busy, is to realize that schools (or children) should not be judged merely on the basis of the number of completed worksheets that come home. Potentially great minds are also encouraged to "mess around" with real-life challenges -- and with great ideas. Neither have neat, tidy edges.
Metacognition: The Art of Knowing Your Own Mind
The human brain is unique in its abilities to reflect on its own thinking. Homes where children do not spend much time with reflective adults and schools where they are "trained" to learn mainly by memorizing data neglect this special asset. They also put children at risk for attention problems.
For metacognition, the key word is strategies, the mental processes that learners can deliberately recruit to help themselves learn or understand something new. [6] Examples of ineffective strategy use can be seen in every classroom: children who race through math papers without stopping to think about whether the answers are right or wrong, readers who absorb the words with their eyes but never ask themselves if their brain understands, students in art class who start slapping on paint before they think about the space on the paper, problem-solvers who give up after the first solution doesn't work.
Programs developed for parents and teachers in "strategy training" primarily involve recruiting the child's inner speech for thoughtful mental processing. For example, a typical training program teaches children first to "talk aloud," then to "whisper aloud," then to "whisper inside your head" in an effort to build that inner voice so frequently missing in today's distracting environments. When confronted with a problem, children may be taught to follow a four- or five-step plan such as the following:
1. Stop. Think. What is my task? (identify the problem in words)
2. What is my plan? (talk through possible steps to solution)
3. How should I begin? (analyze first step)
4. How am I doing? (keep on task)
5. Stop. Look back. How did I do? (analyze the result)
Practice with these steps is surprisingly effective in helping children with attention problems manage their behavior more effectively. Similar techniques applied to reading comprehension ("Am I understanding this? What don't I understand?") have also shown good results. It is important to note that all these successes result from using language to direct thoughts and impulses. Research shows that even some students with so-called "memory problems" have a more fundamental difficulty in managing their own thinking. [7]
Israeli Dr. Reuven Feuerstein, perhaps our most perennial optimist about the modifiability of human intelligence ("Heredity, shmeridity!" is one of his favorite lines), is convinced that the brain itself can be improved by "metacognitive strategy training" that makes human beings more resistant and adaptable to changing circumstances. "The brain can be modified or changed in a structured way to enable individuals to self-perpetuate," he maintains. "Human beings are unique in their capacity to modify themselves. I call this 'autoplasticity.'" But even before they get to school, children need adults to impose meaning on them or they will always go around the world searching for meaning," he states flatly. [8]
In the absence of this sort of experience, which he terms "mediated learning," Feuerstein believes children do not develop adequate thinking skills. As an example of non mediated learning, he describes a parent putting toys around a room and expecting a child to play. In mediated learning, the parent would place a building toy in front of a child and then sit down and demonstrate several ways to use it, talking about each alternative and allowing the child to experiment while still feeling the support of the adult.
Although Feuerstein holds parents largely responsible for this kind of training in early years, he also tells teachers they must help structure meaning for the child. Instead of simply handing a child a book to read, for example, a mediating teacher might help the student make some predictions about the plot, clarify the meaning of certain vocabulary words, and check out familiarity with necessary background information. The trick is to keep the assistance strictly within the limits of what is necessary for the child to succeed, not to offer so much help that the parent's brain does most of the growing and the child becomes overly dependent.
Although Feuerstein believes firmly in human mediation, others have suggested that computers which can be programmed to respond directly to each child's needs and ability level may eventually be able to do at least part of this job. Thus far, such electronic scaffolds are mainly used to drill on specific subject matter (e.g., multiplication tables, spelling, foreign language vocabulary), but new programs are constantly being developed.
In the meanwhile, this research has profound implications for the content of early childhood programs, especially for children disadvantaged by the absence of mediating adults in their lives. In fact, it has an important message for educational policymakers at all levels. Now that so many children lack these models, helping children structure meaning must become a priority in schools.
Speaking to a group of teachers not long ago, Feuerstein challenged them to reconsider their definition of appropriate goals for education.
"Should it be more data, units, tests? Let me remind you that many of the things you teach today will soon be obsolete! Only brains that can adapt and change themselves will ensure the continuation of our culture." [9]
WHAT ABOUT CREATIVITY AND IMAGINATION?
Feuerstein's concept of "imposing" meaning through helping a child structure understanding is very different from imposing a list of "thinking skills" on an already bite-sized curriculum. Trying to overanalyze "thinking," in fact, may result in sacrificing its inherent creativity.
Good thinking requires good analytic skills, but it also depends on imagination. Both halves of the brain, not simply the linear, analytic-verbal left hemisphere, contribute to it. The more visual, intuitive right hemisphere probably provides much of the inspiration, while the left marches along in its dutiful role as timekeeper and realist. While verbal mediation strategies are clearly effective for directing thought, they should not preclude opportunities for children to practice open-ended thinking, artistic, and nonverbal problem-solving.
Some observers, concerned about declines in creative thinking, as well as in imagination, have advocated teaching methods and classroom experiences to stimulate the right hemisphere. Although some of these so-called "right-brain" activities are fun, their specific neurological merit is viewed by scientists with considerable skepticism. Moreover, it is increasingly clear that genuine creative imagination springs from much deeper developmental roots -- which can easily get short-changed both in homes and in schools.
Children Without Their Own Visions
Do television-raised children, or hurried children who lack the time to sit and dream, grow up with poorer imaginations? Is lack of imagination one of the causes of indifferent problem-solving in today's students? One of the most troubling reports to come out of interviews with preschool teachers is that children today don't make up their own "scripts" for playing. Instead of spontaneously creating open-ended settings and actions ("You be a daddy and I'll be a mommy"; "You be a bad guy and I'll be a hero"), they reenact those they have already seen, even to repeating the dialogue ("You be Bill Cosby in the one where . . ." "Let's be the Mario Brothers when they chase the ... ").
In my survey, teachers were more divided than on any other issue when asked whether students' visual imagery and/or imagination had changed. While about half stated categorically that children today have less imagination, other responses were mixed. To my surprise (and dismay) this item was the only one frequently left blank or frankly answered as "I don't know" (or care?). Others acknowledged that their students' demonstration of imagination and creative thinking depended a lot on their own attitudes and skill as teachers. Some examples:
TV and computers seem to have blurred distinctions between the real and the imaginary; they still visualize (with luck?) but it's hard to rigorously define the images (e.g., in geometry and on maps). -- Computer instructor, Massachusetts
Just as sharp and intuitive as always. (When allowed to be!) I have integrated subject matter, added the arts, provided kinesthetic involvement, relaxation exercises, and used cooperative learning groups with the purpose of teaching social skills and addressing learning styles. The result has been renewed enthusiasm for teaching for me, and more connectedness between my students with each other and with me. It's become fun!!! again. -- Fifth-grade teacher, Oregon
Imagination is disappearing with our structured childhood lives. Parents plan the total child day leaving little free time for playing alone or free play with groups. Leisure time is almost a thing of the past. -- Elementary-school teacher, Wisconsin
I find that my children still have wonderful imaginations! -- Third-grade teacher, Texas
They are very restless and their attention span is short, but in the arts, when you can establish an atmosphere in class that helps them tap in, all the richness is still there, the imagination. No, in the arts I don't think it's ever too late. -- Director, arts integration program, Minnesota
Many books have been written to help teachers wed creative thinking and open-ended problem-solving to daily mastery of content. Suffice it to say here that if we wish to flourish technologically as well as aesthetically, it may be time to rethink priorities that have viewed creativity and imagination as "the art (or music) teacher's responsibility." Mature creativity stems from an inquiring mind with solid foundations in the major intellectual, spiritual, artistic, or aesthetic domains of human achievement, not from gimmicky "right-brain training." Habits of mind that enable a lively interchange between a student and the great thinkers, artists, and technicians of past and present are most appropriately, and indeed, most elegantly, attired in the important content of global cultures.
If we encourage our teachers to be thoughtful, well-informed, and curious themselves, we may more likely expect them to infuse the entire curriculum with creative as well as critical thinking. Otherwise, we will be forced to abandon our children -- who now, more than ever before, need good models of imaginative intellectual engagement -- to machines or "teacher-proof" kits and workbooks. Why spend time on activities such as "write an essay from the point of view of your pencil eraser" while leaving untouched the significant mental challenges of a child's world? This is about as silly as teaching children to "think" by dropping "factlets" into an intellectual abyss in the name of something called "cultural literacy."
ON "CULTURAL LITERACY"
In 1987 Dr. E. D. Hirsch published a book entitled Cultural Literacy: What Every American Needs to Know which caused many parents to wonder if they should march on schools, insisting that their children be forced to memorize more terms, names, and dates. Maintaining that one of the major reasons for lagging achievement is that students today lack a basic core of background knowledge to help them understand what they read, Hirsch and a colleague, Dr. Joseph Kelt, developed a list of everything a decently educated person should know. [10] While I would not argue that growing numbers of citizens' brains have barely been grazed by the knowledge base on which our civilization rests, I have serious reservations about the implications that have been drawn from this arguably superficial concept.
Educators who spend their time with real children in real classrooms are only too acutely aware that passing something in front of (or even temporarily through) them in the name of teaching guarantees nothing in the name of learning. Unfortunately, the mere existence of such a "list" is an invitation to simple-mindedness. Although cursory exposure to bits and bites of learning is the exact opposite of the authors' stated intent, our country's current reductionist mentality (inspired, as we have seen, by legitimate panic over the state of learning) has interpreted it to mean that simply mastering -- read "memorizing" -- the items will get us intellectual standing room.
Ironically, Dr. Kelt told me that a major change he has noted in the writing of his freshmen students at the University of Virginia is a "lack of coherence. "
"These kids, are bright," he said. "This is a seminar that they know is hard, but their writing is more jumbled than what I used to get from students. They enumerate facts rather than summarizing. They have difficulty discriminating thoughts and there is no transition between paragraphs." [11]
Who Should Teach "Cultural Literacy"?
Real access to the great concepts of any cultural heritage comes from extended, personally meaningful contact. In the past, this exposure came mainly from conversations with adults and two other sources: books, which were read out loud at home, personally perused for pleasure, or read as part of schoolwork; and lessons that were understood and internalized. Nowadays, these methods of transmission are in short supply. Many students do not read what they are supposed to, much less for pleasure, and few teachers require much essay writing. Often they are not given (or do not choose to take) sufficient time to cover a topic in depth. There is simply more to learn than there is time available. Without associations with meaning, however, items from a list don't stick well to memory.
Perhaps Dr. Hirsch's most important point is that the reading children do in school should be an important vehicle for cultural transmission. It is inexcusable for youngsters to be reading pap when research has clearly demonstrated that even first graders enjoy, remember, and understand good literature better. If we engage children's minds, in Dr. Lillian Katz's words, by integrating reading instruction with in-depth studies of historical periods, scientific ideas, etc., they will learn and remember even more.
Another point: Has no one noticed that children are very culturally literate -- except that it's for a different culture? Just make up a list of any details from Roseanne, Family Ties, Sesame Street, etc. and most kids would come out looking as smart as they really are. The problem is that our children have exposed us to ourselves, and we don't like what we see. We have shown them what is really valued in our society, and those little cultural apprentices have happily soaked it up.
If we are serious about wanting them prepared by a knowledge base to gather the intellectual fruits of world cultures, the obvious expedient is to change the content of children's television programming and use other video as enrichment. In my opinion, this should be a major responsibility of both educational and commercial networks. Otherwise, we will soon be forced to revise university-level curricula to include in-depth studies of talking animals and human buffoons.
Schools cannot plaster children with a paste of "cultural literacy" that the culture itself repudiates. Nor can schools completely counteract the powerful effects of television programming that works at direct cross-purposes with our efforts to teach children to think.
TEACHING CRITICAL THINKING -- ELECTRONICALLY
This dilemma was put into sharp relief when a recent New York Times "Education Life" supplement happened to juxtapose these two reports:
1. A major life insurance company flies their claim forms to Ireland where "a surplus of well-educated white collar workers" are eager to process them. The reason? American workers lack the educational skills as well as the motivation.
2. Because of poor habits of nutrition in American schoolchildren, the government has set a new goal to make nutrition a requirement in the school curriculum of all fifty states. [12]
People seem only too happy to blame the schools for the fact that our work force is so undereducated. At the same time, however, they insist badly needed instructional hours be used to undo the effects of television commercials that have systematically trained children in poor nutritional habits. What a preposterous situation! The first place where critical thinking should be applied is to the content of television, but if adults can't do it, why should children? Moreover, how can we lambast kids for their lack of "responsibility" at the same time we unload all of our own onto the schools? No wonder many children expect to have learning pumped into them without any reciprocal obligation.
Few dispute the fecklessness of American network programming for children. In his book Television and America's Children: A Crisis of Neglect, Edward Palmer details its inadequacies. [13] Yet no major effort has been made to train children to be critical viewers. Suffice it to repeat here that the brain tends to be deeply imprinted by repeated experience, particularly in early years. If teachers are required to reverse attitudes and values carefully inculcated by the media, they will have little time to bind up its intellectual casualties.
Yet the reality of the tube in the lives of the current generation is undeniable. Schools will have to assume a more positive -- and educational -- role in guiding children, who are by nature "visually vulnerable," into analysis and evaluation of its content. "The potential of our new electronic teachers is awesome," states Ernest Boyer in his introduction to Palmer's book. "Educators would be naive to ignore these influences, which have become, in effect, a new curriculum." [14]
In her book, Mind and Media, Patricia Greenfield points out that visual literacy must now be taught in addition to print literacy. [15] She recommends specific programs to turn children from passive into active consumers of all kinds of visual material. Using network programs to teach questioning techniques, studying the effects of devices such as zooms and pans, analyzing plot structures and comparing them to those of literature, and leading critical discussions of the art of persuasion are all ideas that might be applied in homes as well as in schools. Classroom production of videotapes that children plan, write scripts for, and then analyze can help put them in control of the medium instead of vice versa.
Greenfield also advocates more effective uses of television to reduce the educational gaps between advantaged and disadvantaged children, citing successful experiments in Third World countries with video designed to make children interactive participants in learning. In Niger, for example, children were successfully taught French by programs that incorporated interactive language instruction. As they engaged in structured follow-up exercises with classroom aides, they became "more actors than spectators," and learning proceeded apace.
A New Curriculum
Cognitive psychologist Dr. Michael Posner believes that schools may have to change in even more fundamental ways in response to an electronic age. Children soon observe, he suggests, that a school with a rigid schedule is very different from the more flexible environments in the real world of work. Children see adults looking at television and working at computer displays more than they see them reading and writing. "But we still act as if the only important skills were reading and writing," he points out. [16]
"We remain myopically obsessed with print literacies while our pupils continue living in a world that is increasingly high-tech and electronically visual and auditory," wrote an editor of Language Arts, published by the National Council for Teachers of English. Instead of avoiding questions of how "computer literacy" or "visual literacy" relate to critical thinking and learning, educators must broaden their research and include their constructive uses.
THE COMPUTERIZED BRAIN
As we turn now to consider future definitions of "thinking," we move into an area where there are some rather unsettling questions and no answers. One of the most important is how adaptive our children's "new brains" will prove to be in a culture that may be in the process of evolution away from print-based representations of knowledge.
Asking "experts" what they think computers will do to children's brains elicits little agreement.
1. "A computer is simply a caricature of the left hemisphere, just as video games are a caricature of the right. I think that working with computers will definitely make kids more left-brained."
2. "Computers can do all the detail work, but humans have to have the 'big picture' of what they want the machine to do. And they have to 'see' and plan an overall strategy. When kids are freed of the details, I think working with computers may enable them to be more right-brained!"
The answer I like best was suggested by Dr. Jeannine Herron, director of California Neuropsychology Services, who works on developing computer software as an educational tool.
"I think computers are going to enable us to stretch the limits of both global and linear. If they want detail, they can get very fine detail, but they can also get a wider, very global perspective. A child who can browse through great photographs of the dust-bowl era is certainly getting an overall concept of that historical period. But I don't think we'll be able to build the linkages between those two kinds of systems unless the experience is meaningful for the child." [17]
In order to understand the effects computers may have on the user's thinking skills, we must start with the major difference between artificial and "real" intelligence.
Sequential and Parallel Processing
Normal human brains have at their disposal two complementary methods of processing information: sequential and simultaneous (often called parallel). Sequential processing takes one bite at a time: A, then B, therefore C, etc. ("If the suspect entered the office at 2:30, then the secretary would have just returned from her coffee break, and therefore she would have seen him." "If x = 3 and y = 5, then x + y = 8") and is primarily associated with the left hemisphere.
The opposite -- but, for us, interlocking way of solving problems is called parallel, or simultaneous, processing because many associations become activated at the same time. This sort of thinking has been compared to a "ripple" effect, in which A elicits a wide network of connections with other sets of associations and ideas, often represented in images. The linkages may be well learned or spontaneous and unique, as in the process of first feeling, then "seeing," then articulating a metaphor. Artists, inventors, writers, and other creative thinkers depend heavily on simultaneous processing, which is more often associated with the right hemisphere. Of course, at the point where it becomes necessary to articulate the image, hypothesis, or general principle on a typewriter, canvas, musical score, or graph paper, sequential skills assume their own value.
Human brains continually blend simultaneous and sequential processing, although, as with learning "styles," different individuals may tend to favor one form over another. The way the brain is trained probably helps determine the balance. The demands of the task may also nudge the brain into one mode or another.
The "artificial intelligence" (AI) of most present-day computers represents sequential processing carried to an extreme. Traditional AI can deal only with one piece of data at a time, and computers act irritable if items and instructions don't arrive in the proper order, as anyone who has responded to the cybernetic cry of anguish -- "syntax error" -- can attest. Until new prototypes of artificial intelligence are widespread (some which use parallel processing are even now becoming available), computers are locked into a mentality that makes even the most unimaginative human number-cruncher look like a creative genius. The reason, of course, is that the human has two hemispheres cushioned by some nice soft emotional centers; the machine has, in essence, only part of a left hemisphere and no feelings that we know of.
I find it interesting to speculate -- because there is little research available -- on the physical effects of interactions between the human and this machine brain. As of now, when children meet up with AI, they are usually involved in one of the following types of applications:
1. Drill and practice programs (e.g., games to learn the multiplication tables, practice a spelling list, place the state capitals on a map)
2. Programming (e.g., giving the machine a series of commands to make it draw a square or compute gas mileage; these must be presented to the machine in its own language and its own one-step-at-a-time logic)
3. Working with data bases (e.g., accessing a list and selected summaries of all the articles on parakeets published since 1973; creating a data base in which all the local birds from your area are listed and categorized according to type of beak, feathers, color, etc.)
4. Simulations (e. g., You are a pioneer about to set out on the Oregon Trail. You are given a budget and must choose from a "menu" of supplies; as the trip progresses, you undergo various hardships and must make decisions along the trail. You may or may not make it to Oregon. It is assumed you will learn some history and some decision-making skills in the process. Video games are also simulations.)
5. Word processing (e.g., the computer as an advanced form of memory typewriter)
These different uses call on very different types of mental processing, the implications of which have barely been tapped. I will touch here on just a few of the most relevant issues in terms of the development of thinking skills.
Learning to Talk to Machines: Accurately!
Teaching children to program a present-day computer virtually demands they use precise, analytic-sequential reasoning (e.g., If ... then ... ). I have seen many youngsters whose minds do not naturally tend to work this way (and little children's, particularly, do not) become extremely frustrated because they can't just "make it understand" by telling it, "You know . . ."
Other uses of the computer also require precision of language. Dr. Judah Schwartz of the Education Department at MIT points out that getting the computer to work properly with data bases does not permit "sloppy" understanding of words such as and, or, or not. Try to figure out this one:
I have watched youngsters not understand why a data base on United States presidents, when queried about the number of presidents born in Massachusetts and Vermont, insisted on claiming that no presidents were born in Massachusetts and Vermont [if you didn't get it the first time, neither did I!]. Clearly the problem has nothing to do with the technology. Rather we need to educate people to use the language with much greater precision than they are presently accustomed to using. [18]
Schwartz emphasizes that similar "analytic barbarism" causes most of people's trouble with spreadsheets (where they may try to add months to dollars, etc.). Computers simply won't buy slushy language or slushy thought, at least as the machine has been programmed to define it.
Will working with computers teach children better habits of orderly thinking? Thus far, research offers contradictory views. On one hand, programming a computer requires that a student be able to break a problem down into logical, sequential units and then accurately give this information to the machine. We are beginning to learn, however, that students whose brains do not take naturally to this way of thinking usually avoid programming in the same way people who think they lack drawing ability flee from art classes.
"Watching students try to program teaches me a great deal about the way they think, but I don't believe it makes them better thinkers -- at least not the way we're teaching it now," one experienced teacher told me.
On the other hand, computer programming might encourage those who are already too focused on details to obsess even more. Some theorists fear that too much interaction with artificial intelligence will magnify the role of linearity, logic, and rule-governed thinking in our culture to the point where we might be in danger of retreating into a "flattened, mechanical view of human nature." [19] Most agree that computers are a tool with almost unlimited potential, but until they can engage in parallel as well as simultaneous processing, they will not only be a poor match, but also a poor model for most forms of human reasoning. [20]
At this point, computers can perform many functions of the brain's storehouse. Nonetheless, they still have to depend on the executive and general reasoning abilities of the human brain. I venture to say it will be a long time, if ever, before prefrontal, emotional, and motivational centers can be attached to a hard disc. Thus it may be especially important to make sure our children retain these capabilities themselves.
Computer as Scribe
Children who learn to use word processing programs become more fluent writers and are more willing to revise what they write. Many who have trouble with mechanical aspects of handwriting and spelling find they can express their ideas successfully for the first time. Word processing programs are, without doubt, one of the most commonly used and appreciated computer uses in the classroom.
As a dedicated fan of my own electronic amanuensis, however, I must acknowledge that writing on a screen changes, not only the experience itself, but also the resulting prose. In addition to the danger of prolixity, many writers feel they tend to lose a sense of the "gestalt" of the piece and find it necessary to revert frequently to "hard copy" (paper printouts) to understand their own line of reasoning and see how the parts fit together. Perhaps this is because we initially programmed our brains to read and write on paper; perhaps it is an inherent problem in the technology.
An outstanding English teacher commented that she has no trouble telling which of her students' essays started life on the computer. "They don't link ideas -- they just write one thing, and then they write another one, and they don't seem to see or develop the relationships between them."
Assuredly, we must encourage students to use the computer as a tool, but also teach them to rise above its ineluctable linearity and use the parallel processing capabilities of their own human brains.
The Electronic ZPD
Computers make good "coaches" for specific sorts of skills because they can be programmed to operate directly within the "zone of proximal development" described earlier. Schoolchildren already show success working with individual machine "tutors" to perfect routine skills. It must be remembered, however, that interaction with any kind of computer software really boils down to interacting with the intelligence of the person who programmed the software. Naturally, some are better than others.
With perfection of machines that can process human speaking and "listening," children may someday have personally responsive tutors for oral language. (But how about the melody, the inflection, the "body language"?) Spelling "checkers" that now act simply as correcting devices might be programmed to notice patterns of errors, diagnose the types of help a poor speller needs, and develop drills for a personal tutoring session on spelling rules needed by that particular individual. Grammar "readers" may ultimately be able to extend learning as well as correct and reshape usage. The ones so far available for written text, unfortunately, are singularly pedantic and may actually strip a manuscript of style and complex usage, nuance not being a forte of the machine's intelligence.
The possibilities are limitless, but they must be wisely sifted and monitored. Even simulation games that are apparently quite educational (e.g., "Oregon Trail") require a good teacher nearby. Otherwise, it often gets treated by the youngsters simply as a game of chance, with little attention to the educational context.
Programs to teach children -- or even graduate students -- to reason logically have similarly earned mixed reviews. Although we will see increased attention to this important potential application, programs now available are not capable of making "fuzzy" thinkers into logicians. [21] Nor has anyone yet demonstrated exactly what kinds of global, "big picture" skills computer uses may engender. Getting a "view" of the way steps might fit together to produce a desired result when writing a program, deciding which combination of statistical programs to use to analyze a varied set of data, or seeing categorical relationships between items in a data base all tap aspects of this ability. There is some evidence that extensive work with programs that relate visual-spatial activity on the screen to the child's own physical movements in space (e.g., LOGO) may improve at least some types of visual-spatial reasoning, but overall, the jury is still out.
Computer scaffolding offers wonderful possibilities for the disabled. It can help children who have orthopedic or learning handicaps express their intelligence in ways heretofore unavailable. It may also hold potential for more intensive, individual work with disadvantaged children who are, unfortunately, placed in classrooms without enough teachers to meet their particular learning needs. The attention-getting format of computer programs has been shown to be appealing even to children who have acquired a basic mistrust of school learning. One observer cautioned, however, that cozying up to software can never completely replace rubbing up against good teachers.
"In the end it is the poor who will be chained to the computer; the rich will get teachers." [22]
As always, too, the problem of "transfer" emerges. Can reading from a screen or learning to hunt and peck on a keyboard be used to improve proficiency and pleasure in real reading and writing? Or will machine analogues become the "real" processes? With electronic books now available, it may soon be hard to tell.
For Young Children: Artificial or Real Intelligence?
While dining not long ago with a scientist who probes the workings of the brain, I enjoyed hearing about the intellectual exploits of his three-year-old daughter, clearly the apple of her Daddy's eye. I enjoyed his stories, that is, until we got to dinosaurs.
"She can recognize all the names when she sees them on the computer screen: Tyrannosaurus Rex, Brontosaurus, whatever -- and she matches them right up to the pictures'" he said happily. "The program we got her even teaches about what each one ate, and whether they could fly, and all kinds of stuff. It's amazing!"
I didn't say what was really on my mind at that point . . . something like, "I'm sure that will be really useful for her when she takes her first course in paleontology." Being something of a wimp in the presence of those who spend their days rooting around in other people's brains, I only said,
"And how long did it take her to learn all this?"
"Oh, she loves her computer. She spends a lot of time at it. When my wife and I are busy we would much rather see her there than watching TV. At least we know she's doing something educational."
"Does your little girl ever just play -- by herself, or with other little kids?"
"Oh, sure." He thought for a moment. "But she really loves that computer! Isn't it wonderful how much they can learn at this age?"
"What do you think that computer is doing to her brain?" I asked.
He paused. "You know," he said slowly, "I never thought about it. I really haven't a clue."
Many parents with far less scientific sophistication than this man also don't have a clue as to what early use of computers can do to children's brains. The long-term neurological effects of this type of experience are unknown -- and, very likely, unknowable. We do know that short-changing real-life social and fantasy play is a big mistake. Yet many adults understandably believe that if a child looks as if she's mastering something that they themselves view as complicated, it must mean the kid is getting really smart. But does it?
Many child development authorities question how much, if any, of preschoolers' time should be spent sitting at a computer terminal. "Young children who will grow up in a high-tech world need a low-tech, high-touch environment," insists Dr. Lillian Katz. [23] Early childhood is a special time for brain development of special systems that will underlie many different kinds of learning; even executive centers have already begun to develop by age two. While many types of computer programs sold for young children may be useful to get specific kinds of learning into older brains, research has not yet supported their value for preschoolers.
What might be wrong with giving children a leg up on all the interesting facts in our cultural data base? First of all, many programs of this sort use paired associate learning (e.g., matching names, letters, or numerals with pictures), which is not a high-level skill and not one that builds many widespread neural connections. For some children, a preoccupation with memorizing bits of information may even herald a serious learning disorder. [24] Even when the programs call on more complex skills (e.g., categorizing attributes of dinosaurs), feeding the brain with too much vicarious experience (e.g., words and pictures on a computer monitor) instead of real ones (e.g., investigating the behaviors of actual kittens, goldfish, ants, salamanders or whatever) or with feelable, manipulable objects (e.g., dolls, stuffed animals, making dinosaur models out of clay, if the child is genuinely interested in dinosaurs) could place artificial constraints on its natural developmental needs. The preschool brain's main job is to learn the principles by which the real world operates and to organize and integrate sensory information with body movement, "touch," and "feel." It needs much more emphasis on laying the foundations of control systems for attention and motivation than on jamming the storehouse full of data that makes it look "smart" to adults.
The child's need to initiate and feel "in charge" of her own brain's learning is another issue to consider. Commercial computer programs are designed to attract and hold attention, but programming a youngster to expect to receive information without independent mental exploration and organization may be a grave error -- which won't become apparent until she can't organize herself around a homework assignment or a job that requires initiative. More commonplace activities, such as figuring out how to nail two boards together, organizing a game, or creating a doll house out of a shoebox may actually form a better basis for real-world intelligence.
The last thing today's children need is more bits of learning without the underlying experiential frameworks to hang them onto. In tomorrow's world of instant information access, activities like memorizing the names and characteristics of dinosaurs could be as anachronistic as the creatures in question. Moreover, children who have concentrated on getting the right answer rather than on building the independent reasoning to ask the right question, or who, by replacing playtime with too much computer time have failed to develop "big picture" frameworks from self-initiated experience, may become dinosaurs themselves.
Looking Ahead
Computers offer extraordinary potential as brain accessories, coaches for certain types of skills, and motivators. Their greatest asset may ultimately lie in their limitations -- which will force the human brain to stand back and reflect on the issues beyond the data -- if it has developed that ability.