Academic Suicide

I have been writing about how we—as a society—have lost our way.  Sadly, just the other day I was reminded of how far my own university has strayed from common sense and its historic mission.  Instead of educating students for the world they are about to enter, the school has decided to commit suicide.

I have never been a fan of online education.  In my experience—and that of my students—it is an inferior substitute for genuine learning.  Now our administrators are threatening to convert this travesty into a total charade.

First let me share their vision.  It is widely assumed that classroom-focused  education is old fashioned.  Face-to-face teaching is described as yesterday’s technology.  Anything involving the computer is supposed to be more effective than merely elucidating ideas for students.

The ultimate objective is full-blown distance scholarship.  Students are to stay home and switch on their personal computers when it is convenient for them.  This way they will not have to commute to a central location, nor will colleges require brick and mortar facilities.

Moreover, the lessons will be designed by the very best professors and then presided over by less highly trained adjuncts.  This way the students will have access to superior instruction that is more flexible and less expensive.

In the end, everyone will be able to get a college education.   That, at least, is the theory.  The reality is different.  It is a dumbed down ritual that imparts very little knowledge.  Students may obtain a degree, but one that is less useful than toilet paper.

Let me explain the problem.  In an ordinary classroom, students are motivated by human interaction.  They not only hear their professor, they are able to look him or her in the eye and read their facial expressions.  They can also ask questions that receive responsive answers.

In other words, face-to-face learning has a human dimension that facilitates thinking and makes complex materials comprehensible.  The computer, however, is more remote.  It is disembodied box that has serious limitations.

In an attempt to get around these, online courses feature chat rooms and videos.  Students watch taped lectures and then post responses to which others reply.  The trouble is that these videos feature poor production values and hence tend to be deadly dull, whereas the posts only allow for inadequate communication.  These discussion boards are thus like extended tweets, only less clever.

What is worse, these methods are labor intensive.  It takes time for the instructor to reply to every student via the keyboard.  There is likewise less incentive to require written assignments that are arduous to grade.

Initially it was hoped that smaller classes coupled with extra faculty pay could avoid these difficulties.  Accordingly, in my school, classes were capped at twenty and then thirty.  Instructors also received an additional fifty dollars per head.

Now the proposal is to increase class size to between fifty and one hundred and twenty, while hiring non-Ph.D.’s to preside over them.  This is a sham!  In an effort to save money, learning is being thrown out the window.  No lecturer, no matter how dedicated, can deal with five, one hundred and twenty student sessions—except in the most cursory manner.

Writing assignments will become a thing of the past and chat rooms a farce.  Instructors, who have been converted into assembly line robots, will go through the motions—as will their students.  Books will not be read, exams will be over-simplified, and no one will care because the exercise is so impersonal.

This so-called reform is not being driven by pedagogical necessity.  Rather, it is being propelled forward by a misguided effort to provide affordable higher education for everyone.

Lastly, I guarantee that the politicians will depict these efforts as brilliant.  You will be told about how well these innovations are succeeding, but don’t believe it.  We on the front lines know better.  We see the casualties first hand!

Melvyn L. Fein, Ph.D.

Professor of Sociology

Kennesaw State University