Thursday, February 2, 2012
The Narrative Spark: Stories in ID (ISPI '08/'09)
And now back to your regular programming...
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Rearranging Deck Chairs on the Titanic (revisited)
It's interesting (to me) how portions of this discussion are still chugging along, but not nearly with the same fervor that they had when Jay's book came out. I'm honestly not sure how to interpret this - have Jay's points been tempered from their original, more extreme stance to be something that should be considered, but not seen as a 'sky is falling' situation?
The following was originally posted to the Tata Interactive Systems' Blog, but it bears repeating for (renewed?) consideration:
-----------------
Jay Cross recently posted some interesting (and startling) statistics about the impact of what we, in the custom learning design and development business, make a living doing.
Consider the following blurb (three times - once to allow your amazement to pass; a second time to allow your denial to pass; and a third time to slowly and deeply consider the ramifications, if this is even remotely true):
Formal training programs are not the only learning game in town. CLOs who spend the bulk of their time improving the development and delivery of training might be optimizing the insignificant. Consider this:
- According to Tom Gilbert and Peter Dean, training only accounts for 10.5 percent of the total potential change in worker behavior. Clarity of objectives, working conditions and other factors are more important.
- According to the Institute for Research on Learning, at most, formal training only accounts for 20 percent of how people learn their jobs. Most workers learn their jobs from observing others, asking questions, trial and error, calling the help desk and other unscheduled, largely independent activities.
- According to Robert Brinkerhoff and Stephen Gill, people who do attend formal training never apply 80 to 90 percent of what they learn back on the job. They forget the bulk of what they’re exposed to in a matter of days.
So, formal training accounts for 20 percent x 20 percent x 10 percent of the possible improvements you can make to worker performance. That’s 0.4 percent. To account for potential double-counting and other quirks, let’s say training might influence 1 percent of worker potential. C-level officers who want the human capacity to thrive over the long haul are looking for more.
Now, I'm certainly not lobbying for the end of formal training, but perhaps there is some merit to calling for the end of the *current version of* formal training.
With all that is known about HPT/HPI, Simulations, and Story-based Learning, not to mention long-available but minorly-leveraged knowledge about EPSS, why is it that the vast majority of the eLearning work that is done today resemble electrified versions of what was used to teach our great grandparents? Why are Jay's ideas regarding "informal" and "free-range" learning (for instance) readily accepted in theory, but largely ignored in practice?
We can do better (and it doesn't have to mean a loss of business).
When will learning professionals, who know in their heart that what their client is asking for isn't going to solve their problem or have the desired impact, feel confident to act on their responsibility/obligation to say as much?
When will customers (internal and external) allow the T&D professionals they've hired (again, internal or external) do what they do best, rather forcing them to act as glorified order takers and production shops for knee-jerk/best-guess remedies?
It may be a utopian wish that will never arrive, but, as Robert Browning said, "A man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for?"
Update: 11/20/06
Jay's efforts related to Informal Learning have blossomed with the recent publication of his book on the subject. Good stuff!
In reflecting on his points and how they relate to Storytelling (my current area of focus), I ran across a Breeze session he's shared at: http://jaycross.com/informl/ . It's a great overview that clicks at a deep level with many of my thoughts/experiences.
I thought I'd share a shot of one of the slides that give a visual representation of the original point I made above. It may help to communicate just how small a slice of what is done in "formal training" is making any substantive difference.
(to recap the claim: Only about 10% of all potential change factors are related to "training". Of that 10%, only 20% is "formal" (the other 80% is "informal"). Of THAT 20%, only 20% makes its way out of the classroom and into application on the job. So... 10% * 20% * 20% = <1%!)
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Design is as design does
I never lost my interest in ID (not to be confused with my current day job, Instructional Design), and still get a great kick out of the thumbing through magazines like I.D. in my local mega-book store.
The latest issue of Fast Company (Oct '07) is focused on Design of all shapes and sorts and is a really interesting read (IMHO). One thing that struck me as I browsed the pages was a minor realization that although it wasn't an intentional goal (and certainly isn't as classically 'tangible' as other types of design), my interest in software, technology, and their hooks into learning have led me into the broad field of Design in a way that I might have experienced if I'd followed my heart rather than my head as a 19 year old.
Just how different is Instructional Design from Industrial Design, at its root? Just how far can you push the question (Software Programming vs. Interface Design vs. Architecture) before the differences begin to outweigh the similarities? Are there some fundamental commonalities that run, like a thread, through them all? Is it as simple as the urge to 'create' something?
The lead/cover article is on Yves Behar, the creative spark behind the much lauded XO-1 of Nicholas Negroponte's One Laptop Per Child (OLPC) initiative, among other things. In that article, he shared an insight that kicked the question above into gear for me:
"The simplest definition of design is how you treat your customer. If you acknowledge their intelligence, and treat them well from an environmental, emotional, and aesthetic standpoint, you're probably doing good design." By that standard, he says, few CEOs come close. "They just don't know how hard it is, and what it will take on their part. There's a pain in transformation, pain when you have to do things differently." Most execs hope skillful marketing will make up for design shortfalls, or that word of mouth around an occasional well-conceived product will float the rest of their wares. Such rosy thinking overlooks the tensions that arise when design gets factored into a big business. "Marketing people are incented to come up with great ideas," says Mitch Pergola, fuseproject's vice president and general manager. "Engineers are incented to drive out costs." To resolve those conflicts, somebody at the top has to make the Solomonic calls. "If you want to be design-driven, " Behar says, "the question is, Who's driving?"
Although he is speaking of the design of physical objects, much of the sentiment he captures could just as well apply to Instructional Design (or Software Design, or...). At its core, good design requires some recognition and respect for your customer/audience. In training terms, acknowledgement that your (adult) learners bring something to the educational table, based on their background and experience. They are NOT blank slates that are poised to be filled with the blessings of the wisdom that has been deemed necessary for them to imbibe. Time and time again, when ID's step off their artificial platform of being the fount of knowledge and assume a position of being an enabler and facilitator of information exchange, everyone is richer for it.
Good design isn't window dressing on some more important, underlying core. It is an equal at the table of required elements for success.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Beginnings, Endings, and Head Fakes
Early in my career, I had an incredible and rare opportunity to study in an area of extreme interest to me (the combo of technology and human performance/education) at an institute that had a short but intense life, under a dynamic and controversial visionary leader. Out of the worldwide organization I worked for, only a handful of employees were given this golden shot to be 'assigned' to the 'project' of getting an M.S. while staying a full-time (fully salaried/benefitted) employee. Not bad a bad deal, at all! The last hurdle in the competition to procure one of the coveted spots was to have an in-person interview with the head of the program. Without his nod, no amount of corporate support would secure admission.
I was blessed/cursed with the awareness that this was a turning point for me, both professionally and personally. This single interview could determine if I was going to be allowed to comfortably pursue an area of interest in a way I likely wouldn't be able to do otherwise. The interview was as memorable as it was short. In a hurried and distracted fashion, the program director sat down and simply asked, "Why should I give a spot in my program to you?", then fell quiet.
I was tempted to rollout one of the buzzword-laden smooth-talking answers that had historically worked so well in landing summer jobs, undergrad admission, and my current consulting role, but I instantly knew that sort of an approach wouldn't fly with this guy - he'd see right through that sort of answer as the BS it was, and I'd be out on my ear. So I took a moment, did my best to not be (overly) intimidated by the silence in the room or the stare of the hulking presence on the other side of the table, and decided to take a chance on simply speaking from the heart.
I replied (in part), "When my grandkids come to me, sit on my knee, and ask what it was that I did with my working life, I want to be able to say something more than simply, 'I saved companies that made a lot of money even more money.'. That's something that any of hundreds of thousands of people will be able to say. I want to answer that I changed people's lives in some, perhaps small, but meaningful way."
With that, he immediately rose from his chair, returned to desk and began typing. A few seconds passed before I mustered the courage to say, "So, I hope to hear from you soon with your decision...", when he interrupted me. Without lifting his head for a parting glance or his hands for a handshake, he simply said, "You won't be hearing from me. If you hear from anyone, it'll be from someone with your company." He continued typing, head down, and I gathered myself and left his office.
As I shuffled down the hall to the other end of the building, I was sure I'd blown it and just watched a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity evaporate. I returned to where my company's representative was dispatching the next interview victim, probably looking a little shell shocked and crestfallen. She very subtly gave me a smile and quietly whispered, "you made quite an impression... he's said 'yes'."
From that moment on, I have tried to pursue that objective (more or less). There have been times that I felt compelled to be a little more practical and focused on the day-to-day of life, rather than my ideal pursuits (having a child and a mortgage will do that to you), but I've yet to lose the fire that was quietly ignited in that interview. My new employer has a formal policy related to community involvement, allowing for up to 2 hours of paid time per week to be spent helping to better the world in some way. I plan to take them up on the offer and lend my talents in eLearning to our local school system - maybe through Squeak, maybe via Dean Kamen's FIRST, maybe both, maybe something else, but something.
All of this has been brewing in my mind/heart for awhile now, but this morning I ran across a WSJ article and video that brought it all back front-and-center. It was a story about CMU CS Professor Randy Pausch and his 'Last Lecture'. I'd heard of Dr. Pausch before, based on his work with VR and immersive worlds, and knew him to be a legend of sorts. I had also heard of the new trend of some universities to ask their top professors to consider what they would share with their students (and the world) if they only had one 'last lecture' to present. What I didn't know was that Dr. Pausch had been told that he only has a few months to live, due to pancreatic cancer, giving his session a bit more of a literal (and heartbreaking) tie to the series title.
I'd encourage you to at least read the WSJ article and view the abbreviated video of his talk. If you have an hour and change of time, however, I struggle to imagine a better way to spend it than watching the full presentation. I won't attempt to summarize or highlight the talk (although others, including Mark Guzdial, have done a fine job) - suffice it to say that his concept of "the head fake" resonates with me (and is reminiscent of Seymour Papert's and Alan Kay's philosophy related to "hard fun"). And the way he weaves the concept into practice at the end of the talk (twice!) is nothing less than amazing and heart-breaking, considering his circumstance.
We all can't be Pausch's or Papert's or Kay's, but what I can be is the best me the world has ever seen (or will ever see!). I hope I found an inviting place to let some of these aspirations take flight with my new position/employer. I draw a renewed sense of energy and inspiration to make my mark, somehow and in some way, from Dr. Pausch's 'last lecture'.
Maybe you will too...
Monday, August 6, 2007
Water Water Everywhere...
You can get at least 450 gallons of L.A. tap water for the $1.35 you'd pay
for 20 ounces of Aquafina. Turn that around, and 20 ounces of L.A. tap water
costs about one-twentieth of a cent. Would you pay $5 for a gallon of gas in a
pretty container if you could get a plain-wrap gallon for half a penny? When it comes to water, that's pretty much what we do.
(The Atlanta Journal Constitution, 8/5/07)

In San Francisco, the municipal water comes from inside Yosemite National
Park. It's so good the EPA doesn't require San Francisco to filter it. If you bought and drank a bottle of Evian, you could refill that bottle once a day for 10 years, 5 months, and 21 days with San Francisco tap water before that water would cost $1.35. Put another way, if the water we use at home cost what even cheap bottled water costs, our monthly water bills would run $9,000.
(Message in a Bottle, Fast Company, July 2007)
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Effective eLearning ID: Tech Skills Req'd?
Alan Kay, a true pioneer/legend in the Computer Science world, once said:
"People who are really serious about software should make their own hardware."
Apple CEO Steve Jobs has referenced this quote several times when challenged with the idea of making Apple more profitable by taking a page from Microsoft's strategic play book and concentrating efforts primarily on software.
Without speaking for Mr. Kay and what it was that he intended with this famous phrase, one potential interpretation is that living in operational silos makes for less than stellar results. The more you have isolated groups who have little/no understanding or appreciation of what goes on in other operational divisions, the less likely you should expect anything groundbreaking or revolutionary to emerge. The best one can expect in such a circumstance is a more finely polished version of what has been seen before, due to a lack of understanding of what is possible and reasonable.
Relating this interpretation to the world of online learning and instructional design, I have gone back and forth over the years regarding if the best (eLearning) IDs also have a more-than-passing familiarity with the basics of computer science, programming, and some of the more popular/powerful authoring tools.
Reflect, for a moment, on the following:
- Are the IDs you admire/respect the most tech literate?
- In recruiting, do you explicitly look for tech abilities/understanding as one of the characteristics that are required?
- Are tech skills something your organization supports developing (in the form of ongoing training) in its ID team members?
Why? Why not?
I'm still not fully convinced one way or another, but I have a heavy leaning...
In my 16+ years in the field, I've seen far too many examples of designs thrown over the wall to developers that detail either mind-numbingly simple interactions (for lack of knowledge that anything better was possible) or amazingly complex pipe-dreams that would require a form of A.I. to actually implement (for lack of understanding of what sorts of logic would necessary). In such cases, I can't help but believe that having a moderate understanding of how development work is done would make for better designs (and ultimately, courseware).
Just as a good architect can't simply design based on what 'looks good', but actually needs to have a basic understanding of the strength of various materials and how they may (not) interact with each other, perhaps the best IDs should know be conversant with Programming Concepts 101 (maybe 201? maybe more?).
Of course, there will always be the counter argument that such a background should be regarded as a 'nice to have', not a 'must have'. After all, didn't Frank Lloyd Wright design beautiful homes that had notoriously leaky flat roofs? (it is said that FLW once told a client to "Move the chair" in response to a complaint of rain leaking through the roof of their house onto the dining table.) But should we build the rule based on the exception?
How would the ID profession change (both positively and negatively) if we suddenly began to require more of a tech-bent? Would we end up cutting our noses off to spite our face? Or would we see a sudden surge in the quality, sophistication, and ingenuity of the instructional solutions that are thrust upon the world?
I'd like to hear YOUR thoughts, regardless of what they are, or how fully fleshed out they might be!
Weigh in!