Do You Believe in Magic?

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. – Arthur C. Clarke, 3^rd law of prediction.

I'm not sure why, but this popped into my head during a recent interaction with my computer. I had been trying to put a picture into a document. The process is usually quite simple, find the picture in application A, highlight it, hit CTL-C, then go to application B, put the cursor where you want to insert, then hit CTL-V. Voila, you have the picture in both places. It's simple. It's easy. I have done it hundreds of times.

Except it didn't work.

I retraced my steps, clicking, copying, moving, pasting. Nothing. I tried a few times with greater care and lesser speed, but it was always the same result. Eventually I moved the picture a different way (my latest fixation is to not waste time trying to solve the wrong problem – here I wanted to move the picture, not fix or understand Windows annoyances).

Once the picture was where it belonged I started thinking about the bigger canvas and how we are supposed to conduct learning on computers. As informal tech support for a medium sized circle of friends, and as someone formerly responsible for tech support in a large corporation, I have noticed that users generally fall into two classes. There are those who have a conceptual idea of how the computer works and who need to know the specifics of how to make something new happen (or to make it happen correctly). Then there are those for whom it is simply magic.

I think the magic people are in the majority – by a lot. Stuff happens on the computer and there is no way to predict what or why. Windows start spawning windows and can't be stopped. Software stops responding and documents that hadn't been saved for hours are now gone. The network stops responding and there is no mental model that guides how to get it back. In some cases even a rudimentary understanding that shutting everything off and restarting might help is missing. Often the magic uses language to move the computer into sentience. The computer does things. The computer surfs the web. The computer got a virus. On one level it causes me to be astonished by the number of computers that are sold and that are in use, but more relevant to the subject of this blog…

I think this affects learning in two ways.

First, it places learning into a very fragile environment, one that might lock up, become unresponsive or just stop working at any moment. I have friends who are afraid to try things for fear they might break something (I think this is the single most logical explanation for the number of unsecured networks in America). So a lesson needs a new Flash player to run – uh oh. I better not download that, I might get a virus. A lesson displays a bad script error on a page – uh oh, what does that mean? Did I do something wrong? The computer wants to download updates – uh oh, I'd better not, I'm working fine right now. In any case, the learning of lesson content is over and the user begins solving the wrong problem, or just goes away.

Second, and very related to the first, it creates a cognitive distance between the learner and the material that is based on a basic distrust of the medium of instruction. How can you present a lesson on electrical safety if the user is not certain they can get to the end of the lesson safely? In the simplest terms, if I am in class with a live teacher, and I ask a question, I am pretty sure that the teacher is not going to lock up or reboot. I can focus on the lesson, and not the technology that is used to deliver it.

I am not sure if there is a resolution to this dilemma, and whether that resolution is a more reliable computer or a better mental model of how they work, but I think it will continue to affect learning on the computer until it is resolved.

R

To Entropy, or Not to Entropy

I have been preparing for a class on web based instructional design, and as a result have been considering some of the basic assumptions we make concerning the presentation space for e-learning. While the class will need to consider a variety of browsers, one that will need to take a central focus must be Internet Explorer. While I hesitate to cite Wikipedia, on the page for browser market share, the graphic for Internet Explorer looks remarkably like the old Packman graphic.

So what is the issue?

I have noticed that there is a new category of flotsam accumulating on computer screens, the unasked-for addition of toolbars. The worst, and probably the most extreme, case was a friend who asked me why his printer had stopped working. When I looked I found that his browser had added a piece of malware, in the form of an additional toolbar that had simply hijacked his printer driver. But the other thing that was apparent was that he had a LOT of toolbars. He could search using Google from the convenience of his browser toolbar. He could search using Yahoo the same way. He could also search using AOL. He could access history, favorites, an additional row of MSN tabs, and multiple windows in the event he grew bored with one.

I do not begrudge anyone the use of as many search engines or additional tools as they might want, but each of these toolbars had eroded the window for viewing content, and deposited another line of noise into the communication channel. It seemed that there was as much information around the edge of any page he was viewing as there was on it. Given the nature of most web pages, this is probably not that big a problem, but I am focused on how we learn using web pages here, and that focus presents a number of problems, some trivial and I fear, some not.

The most mundane problem for a course designer is what assumption should be made about the viewing area for course content. Will the addition of multiple toolbars force the window to scroll? While this might not be bad in cases where there is significant content below the scroll line, in the case of a page that does not have any content, but only shows a scroll line that needs to be moved to see
that there is no content, it is at best annoying.

Another issue to consider, and one that I have not yet answered to my own satisfaction (and which I suspect will be the subject of future musings) is the effect on the learner of multiple and significant distractions around the learning space. An analogous situation would be a classroom in which everyone was allowed to talk in a normal speaking voice all the time. There would be no focus for anyone on anyone or anything. It would just be noise.

I will be curious to see what the class thinks about this. I suspect the discussion will take place according to the civilized rules for discourse in place in college classrooms. Have we defined those rules for browser based education?

R