If GAI is the ‘uncanniest of guests’ in the University what can we do about any misbehaviour? What do we do with this uninvited guest who behaves badly, won’t leave and seems intent on asserting that it’s their house now anyway? They won’t stay in their room and seem to have their fingers in everything.
Nihilism stands at the door: whence comes this uncanniest of all guests?[1]
Nietzsche saw the emergence of nihilistic worldviews as presaging a century of turmoil and destruction, only after which might more creative responses to the sweeping away of older systems of thought be possible. Generative Artificial Intelligence, uncanny in its own discomforting ways, might be argued as threatening the world of higher education with an upending of the existing conventions and practices that have long been the norm in the sector. Some might welcome this guest, in that there is much wrong in the way universities have created knowledge, taught students, served communities and reproduced social practice. The concern must surely be though that GAI is not a creative force, but a repackaging and re-presenting of existing human understanding and belief. We need to think carefully about the way this guest’s behaviour might exert influence in our house.
After decades of seeking to eliminate prejudices and bias, GAI threatens to reinscribe misogyny, racism, homophobia and other unethical discrimination back into the academy. Since the majority of content used to train large language models has been generated by the most prominent and privileged groups in human culture, might not we see a recolonisation, just as universities are starting to push for a more decolonised, inclusive and equitable learning experience?
After centuries of citation tradition and careful attribution of sources, GAI seems intent on shuffling the work of human scholars and presenting it without any clarity as to whence it came. Some news organisations and authors are even threatening to sue OpenAI as they believe their content has been used, without permission, to train the company’s ChatGPT tool.
Furthermore, this seems to be a guest inclined to hallucinate and recount their visions as the earnest truth. The guest has also imbibed substantive propaganda, taken satirical articles as serious factual account (hence the glue pizza and rock AI diet), and is targeted by pseudo-science dressed in linguistic frames of respectability. How can we deal with this confident, ambitious, and ill-informed guest who keeps offering to save us time and money?
While there isn’t a simple answer (if I had that, I’d be busy monetising it!), an adaptation of this guest metaphor might help. This is to view GAI rather like an unregulated child prodigy: awash with talent but with a lacuna of discernment. It can do so much, but often doesn’t have the capacity to know what it shouldn’t do, what is appropriate or helpful and what is frankly dangerous.
GAI systems are capable of almost magical-seeming feats, but also lack basic understanding of how the world operates and are blind to all kinds of contextual appreciation. Most adults would take days trying to draw what a GAI system can generate in seconds, and would struggle to match its ‘skills’, but even an artistically-challenged adult likely myself with barely any artistic talent at all would know how many fingers, noses or arms, were appropriate in a picture – no matter how clumsily I rendered them. The idea of GAI as a child prodigy, in need of moral guidance and requiring tutoring and careful curation of the content they are exposed to, can help us better understand just how limited these systems are. This orientation to GAI also helps us see that what are witnessing is not a finished solution to various tasks currently undertaken by people, but rather a surplus of potential. The child prodigy is capable of so much, but is still a child and critically, still requires prodigious supervision.
So as universities look to use student-facing chatbots for support and answering queries, to automate their arcane and lengthy internal processes, to sift through huge datasets and to analyse and repackage existing learning content, we need to be mindful of GAI’S immaturity. It offers phenomenal potential in all these areas and despite the overdone hype it will drive a range of huge changes to how we work in higher education, but it is far from ready to work unsupervised. GAI needs moral instruction, it needs to be reshaped as it develops and we might do this through assuming the mindset of a watchful, if also proud, parent.
Professor Dave Webster is Director of Education, Quality & Enhancement at the University of Liverpool. He has a background in teaching philosophy, and the study of religion, with ongoing interests in Buddhist thought, and the intersections of new religious movements and conspiracy theory. He is also concerned about pedagogy, GAI and the future of Higher Education.
[1] The Will to Power, trans. Walter Kaufmann and R. J. Hollingdale, ed., with commentary, Walter Kaufmann, Vintage, 1968.
‘Live briefs’ are used in Higher Education programmes, and I suggest that they can help promote equity and employability if they are used in very specific ways. The use of live briefs takes place not only in the creative industries, but also across more practical or core subjects in HE. and has many parallels with a wide range of other teaching tools.
Live Briefs have been part of my teaching to students on the Creative Advertising degrees at Falmouth University for the past 10 years, with the last four years using live paid briefs as part of assessment. Done right I passionately believe that live briefs, with their ability to test students through an authentic task, develop creative problem-solving skills, and in turn, enhancing student satisfaction, are a valuable tool.
How live briefs are usually used
A live brief is defined as “a type of design project that is distinct from a typical studio project in its engagement of real clients or users, in real-time settings” (Sara, 2006, p. 1). Often, lecturers believe they are assigning ‘live briefs’, but frequently these are merely ‘simulations’ or ‘mock briefs’ using either outdated, or fictional client briefs which lack a genuine and immediate client need. Distant cousins of live briefs include the use of case studies in teaching, or the use of authentic tasks. However, I believe that the use of a live brief should be the unrivalled method to enhancing students’ employability skills and prospects at university in comparison to these other approaches. Typically, live briefs are sourced through lecturers’ professional networks and are presented to students most frequently as an extracurricular opportunity. These opportunities have often resulted in students securing paid or unpaid placements at agencies or being offered full-time positions post-graduation. By not fully embedding these live opportunities into assessments, there is an inadvertent disadvantage to those already disadvantaged.
How live briefs could be used
Live briefs can be, with effort, integrated into the students’ assessment brief for their modules. Students are often asked to deliver a pitch to the client as part of their assessment with one of the ideas chosen by the client. The winning students should ideally be paid for their time, with full guidance from tutors acting to provide feedback and project manage the process. Course leaders need to use caution when explicitly stating a particular module will contain live paid briefs, as they are often hard to come by. Instead, it is suggested that modules be designed in such a way they can be ‘plugged in’ when accessible.
There are many challenges in using live briefs, these include:
Planning in good time prior to start of a module.
The need to fit timings with pre-established assessment deadlines.
Additional time required for lectures to source the live briefs and manage the ‘clients’.
Potential administration constraints with invoicing ‘clients’, paying students and suppliers.
Live briefs seem particularly well-suited to non-profits, small businesses, or government agencies. Experience has shown that these types of organisations tend so see the partnership with a university and students to be more cost effective, providing social benefits, whilst also being able to be more flexible around the module deadlines.
Organisations benefit from bringing their projects to the university, as they gain a dedicated fresh set of minds working on their problem. The same clients often come back year after year. Chris Thompson of Safer Futures shared that he “…thought the standard, confidence and professionalism of the student pitches and research was exceptional.”
The hierarchy of live briefs has been produced to assist lecturers in deciding how best to use live briefs in their teaching and push for the gold star of having paid opportunities embedded into assessment. This is a call for a shift in culture and attitudes toward the use of live briefs, so we are not inadvertently decreasing social mobility in the UK through their use.
Live Brief Hierarchy
The hierarchy has been designed to help lecturers navigate the options whilst considering the ever-increasing demand for improved employability equity.
Figure 1: Hierarchy of the use of Live Briefs in University Teaching. Ranked based on perceived equity and employability status.
Working on live briefs enhances the students’ employability by improving general employability skills, and providing the ability to include this work in their portfolios and CVs. The approach of using live briefs outside of assessment does not provide equal opportunities to students from diverse backgrounds. Less privileged students often work nearly full-time during evenings and weekends to support themselves financially while studying. Indeed, 55% of UK students now work an average of 13.5 hours a week meaning they have less availability to participate in extracurricular assignments (BBC, 2023). The Social Mobility Commission has noted that “unpaid internships are damaging for social mobility” (Milburn, 2017). I see a parallel between the use of extracurricular briefs and unpaid internships, so I advocate that we discourage the use of unpaid extracurricular briefs, as they reduce our chances of ‘levelling up’ in the UK.
The Gold Star of Live Briefs
Justyna, BA Creative Advertising graduate, shared her thoughts on working on a paid live brief. “It gave me more motivation to produce the best possible work. But it was mainly because I was excited about the opportunity to actually make a campaign, still as a student. It was a great way of getting work experience and seeing how the industry works. I believe that the campaign I made is one of the most valuable experiences on my CV”.
Embedding live briefs into briefs assessment, producing work for clients, and compensating students for their contributions present significant challenges. However, I believe incremental improvements to the existing practice of utilising live briefs outside of formal assessment without remuneration should be pursued. The deliberate consideration of these options and the effort to implement such changes will gradually shift the culture and attitudes toward the use of live briefs among both university academic staff and external organisations. This progressive adaptation will enhance the integration of live briefs into the curriculum, ultimately benefiting the student experience, learning and employability whilst simultaneously resulting in clear knowledge exchange advantages for the external organisations.
Lucy Cokes is a senior lecturer at Falmouth University, School of Communications. She has been working in higher education for the past ten years and is a Fellow of Advance HE. She leads the Behaviour Change for Good modules on the Advertising courses and started the inhouse agency ‘BE good’ to manage the live projects which have included a number of government funded campaigns around VAWG and Healthy Relationships. Prior to this she ran a highly successful digital marketing agency with 80 staff in the UK across 3 offices.
Transparency in assessment practices is a critical component of the UK’s higher education sector, but it is a term that carries many layers of meaning. This blog post explores a study that examined how transparency is framed in assessment policies across 151 UK higher education institutions (HEIs). The findings reveal that while institutions strive for transparency, they often overlook the complexities and multidimensional nature of the concept.
Understanding transparency: more than just clear documentation
Transparency in assessment is often associated with clear documentation of criteria, grading practices, and feedback mechanisms. However, this techno-rational approach, which emphasizes explicit documentation and information dissemination, is just one facet of transparency. Our study highlights the need for a more nuanced understanding that includes socio-cultural practices and socio-material enactments.
Techno-rational approaches: the dominant paradigm
The study found that techno-rational approaches dominate the transparency discourse in HEI policies. These approaches focus on ensuring that assessment criteria, learning outcomes, and grading standards are clearly articulated and accessible. For example, many policies mandate the use of detailed assessment briefs, rubrics, and grade descriptors. While this approach aims to make evaluative processes clear and consistent, it often falls short in addressing the dynamic and interpretive nature of academic standards.
One of the most compelling findings was the over-reliance on explicit standards documents, which presume that written criteria can universally ensure fairness and consistency. This static view overlooks the reality that academic standards are co-constructed within specific social and cultural contexts. Without acknowledging this, policies may fail to convey the nuanced, tacit knowledge necessary for fully understanding and applying assessment criteria.
The limitations of techno-rational transparency
Simply providing clear documentation does not guarantee that all stakeholders will understand or effectively use the information. For instance, non-native English speakers and students with varying levels of academic literacy may struggle with the language used in assessment criteria. Moreover, policies often fail to specify effective methods for disseminating this information, relying heavily on static documents rather than interactive or diverse formats that could enhance understanding.
Socio-cultural practices: engaging stakeholders in meaningful dialogue
Beyond documentation, transparency also involves socio-cultural practices that engage stakeholders in ongoing dialogue and clarification of assessment criteria. Policies that promote discussion between educators and students, co-creation of assessment criteria, and collaborative marking processes can foster a deeper understanding and shared meaning of what is expected. For instance, involving students in the creation of rubrics and providing opportunities for mock marking can enhance their evaluative judgment and assessment literacy.
One interesting insight from the study was the importance of dialogue in building a shared understanding of assessment standards. Policies that encourage discussion about assessment criteria not only help students grasp what is expected but also allow educators to refine and clarify their expectations. This dynamic, interactive process contrasts sharply with the static dissemination of information typical of techno-rational approaches.
Socio-material enactments: the role of tools and artefacts
The study also highlights the importance of socio-material enactments, where transparency is realized through the interaction between social practices and material artifacts. This includes the use of digital platforms, rubrics, exemplars, and other assessment tools that facilitate a tangible understanding of assessment criteria. Effective use of these tools can bridge the gap between educators’ tacit knowledge and students’ understanding, fostering a more comprehensive view of transparency.
For example, the use of digital platforms to share assessment criteria and feedback can significantly enhance transparency. These platforms allow for continuous access and interaction with assessment materials, making it easier for students to understand and engage with the criteria. However, the study found that detailed guidance on such platforms is often scant in policies, pointing to a significant area for improvement.
Who benefits from transparency? A multifaceted audience
Transparency in assessment is not solely for students. It also encompasses other stakeholders, including markers, external examiners, tutors, and even employers. The study found that while most policies address the need for transparency for students and markers, they often neglect other crucial stakeholders. This oversight can lead to inconsistencies in how assessments are interpreted and applied, potentially undermining the fairness and effectiveness of the evaluation process.
A particularly intriguing aspect of the study was the identification of specific roles and responsibilities for promoting transparency. By clearly defining who is responsible for ensuring transparency – whether it be module leaders, programme teams, or tutors – institutions can better align their policies with the needs of various stakeholders. This clarity can help avoid the pitfalls of ambiguous roles and ensure a more consistent application of assessment criteria.
Methodology: building the framework
To develop a comprehensive framework we conducted a detailed content analysis of assessment policy documents from 151 UK HEIs. The data collection process involved systematically retrieving and examining these publicly accessible documents, which included academic manuals, assessment policies, feedback strategies, and codes of practice. We excluded documents that were outdated or inaccessible, resulting in a final corpus of 264 documents. Through both deductive and inductive coding methods, we analysed the texts to identify recurring themes and patterns related to transparency. This process involved categorising the data into three main discourses – techno-rational, socio-cultural, and socio-material – guided by Ajjawi, Bearman, and Boud’s (2021) framework. The iterative coding and categorization helped us build a nuanced understanding of how transparency is conceptualized and communicated in HEI assessment policies.
Towards a holistic framework for transparency
Our study proposes a holistic framework that integrates techno-rational, socio-cultural, and socio-material approaches to transparency. This framework emphasizes the need for clear, accessible documentation, active engagement with stakeholders, and effective use of assessment tools and artifacts. By recognizing the diverse needs of all stakeholders, HEIs can develop more inclusive and effective assessment policies.
One of the key contributions of this study is its challenge to the notion of transparency as a static attribute. Instead, transparency is presented as a dynamic, contextually situated practice that requires continuous negotiation and interaction among stakeholders. This perspective shifts the focus from merely providing information to actively engaging stakeholders in the assessment process.
Figure 1. Framework of assessment transparency in Higher Education
Implications for policy and practice
To improve transparency in assessment, HEIs must move beyond merely publishing information to actively engaging with stakeholders through dialogue and interaction. Policies should be clear about the roles and responsibilities of different stakeholders in ensuring transparency. Furthermore, the use of diverse and interactive dissemination methods can enhance understanding and support students’ academic success.
For policymakers, the study suggests that transparency should be explicitly defined within institutional contexts, with guidelines that emphasize both the dissemination of information and the engagement of stakeholders. Educational practitioners are encouraged to adopt participatory practices in assessment design, involving students in creating and understanding assessment criteria, which is pivotal in promoting transparency.
Conclusion: enhancing transparency for a fairer education system
Transparency in assessment is a complex, multifaceted concept that goes beyond clear documentation. By integrating techno-rational, socio-cultural, and socio-material approaches, HEIs can foster a more inclusive and effective assessment environment. This study underscores the importance of comprehensive policies that not only provide clear information but also engage stakeholders in meaningful ways, ultimately contributing to a fairer and more equitable higher education system.
Reflecting on our roles as stakeholders
As readers, it is crucial to reflect on our roles within the higher education assessment ecosystem. Whether we are students, educators, policymakers, or external examiners, we each play a part in fostering transparency. Understanding the nuances of transparency and actively engaging in dialogue and interaction can help us contribute to more equitable and effective assessment practices. By recognizing and fulfilling our roles, we can collectively enhance the transparency and quality of education in our institutions.
Reference
Gonsalves, C and Lin, Z (2024) ‘Clear in advance to whom? Exploring ‘transparency’ of assessment practices in UK higher education institution assessment policy’ Studies in Higher Education, 1-17. https://doi.org/10.1080/03075079.2024.2381124
Chahna Gonsalves is a Senior Lecturer in Marketing (Education) at King’s College London. She is Senior Fellow of the Higher Education Association and Associate Fellow of the Staff Educational Development Association. Her interest in rubrics and the language of assessment is an extension of her role as Department Education Lead.
Zhonghan Lin is a Doctoral Researcher based at the Center for Language, Discourse and Communication, the School of Education, Communication and Society, King’s College London. Her research interests include urban multilingualism, education in ethnically and linguistically diverse societies, and family language policy.
Feedback has been heralded the most significant single influence on student learning and achievement (Gibbs and Simpson, 2004). Despite this, students critique feedback for being unfit for purpose, considering that it does not help them clarify things they do not understand (Voelkel and Mello, 2014).
Despite written feedback being the norm in Higher Education, the literature highlights the benefit of audio feedback. King et al (2008) contend that audio feedback is often evaluated by students as being ‘richer’ than other forms of feedback.
Whilst there is a growing body of literature evaluating audio feedback from the perspective of students, the experiences of academics providing audio feedback have been explored less (Ekinsmyth, 2010). Sarcona et al (2020) is a notable exception, exploring the instructor perspective, albeit briefly. The authors share how some lecturers in their study found it quick and easy to provide audio feedback, and that they valued the ability to indicate the tone of their feedback. Other lecturers, however, stated how they had to type the notes first to remember what they wanted to say, and then record these for the audio feedback, and thus were doing twice as much work.
Whilst the affectual impact of feedback on students has been well documented in the literature (egMcFarlane and Wakeman, 2011), there is little in the academic literature on the affectual impact of the feedback process on markers (Henderson-Brooks, 2021). Whilst not specifically related to audio feedback, Spaeth (2018) is an exception, articulating that emotional labour is a performance when educators seek to balance the promotion of student learning (care) with the pressures for efficiency and quality control (time). Spaeth (2018) argues that there is a lack of attention directed towards the emotional investment on the part of colleagues when providing feedback.
Here, I bring my voice to this less explored side by exploring audio feedback as a performance of emotional labour, based on my experience of trialling of audio feedback as a means of providing feedback to university students through Turnitin on the Virtual Learning Environment. This trial was initiated by colleagues at a departmental level as a possible means of addressing the National Student Survey category of ‘perception of fairness’ in relation to feedback. I decided to reflect on my experience of providing audio feedback as part of a reflective practice module ‘FLEX’ that I was undertaking at the time whilst working towards my Masters in Higher Education.
When providing audio feedback, I felt more confident in the mark and feedback I awarded students, when compared to written feedback. I felt my feedback was less likely to be misinterpreted. This is because, when providing audio feedback, I simultaneously scrolled down the script, using it as an oral catalyst. I considered my audio feedback included more examples than conventional written feedback to illustrate points I made. This overcomes some perceived weaknesses of written feedback: that it is detached from the students’ work (McFarlane and Wakeman, 2011).
In terms of my perceived drawbacks of audio feedback, whilst some academics have found audio feedback to be quicker to produce than written feedback, I found audio feedback was more time-consuming than traditional means; a mistake in the middle of a recording meant the whole recording had to be redone. I toyed with the idea of keeping mistakes in, thinking they would make me appear more human. However, I decided to restart the recording to appear professional. This desire to craft a performance of professionalism may be related to my positionality as a fairly young, female, academic with feelings of imposter syndrome.
I work on compressed hours, working longer hours Monday-Thursday. Working in this way, I have always undertaken feedback outside of core hours, in the evening, due to the relative flexibility of providing feedback (in comparison to needing to be in person at specific times for teaching). I typically have no issue with this. However, providing audio feedback requires a different environment in comparison to providing written feedback:
Providing audio feedback in the evenings when my husband is trying to get our two children to sleep, and with two dogs excitedly scampering around is stressful. I take myself off to the bedroom and sit in bed with my dressing gown on, for comfort. Then I suddenly think how horrified students may be if they knew this was the reality of providing audio feedback. I feel like I should be sitting at my desk in a suit! I know they can’t see me when providing audio feedback, but I feel how I dress may be perceived to reflect how seriously I am taking it. (Reflective diary)
I work in an open plan office, with only a few private and non-soundproof pods, so providing audio feedback in the workspace is not easy. Discussing her ‘marking life’, Henderson-Brooks (2021:113) notes the need to get the perfect environment to mark in: “so, I get the chocolates (carrots nowadays), sharpen the pens (warm the screen nowadays), and warn my friends and relatives (no change nowadays) – it is marking time”. Related to this, I would always have a cup of tea (and Diet Coke) to hand, along with chocolate and crisps, to ‘treat’ myself, and make the experience more enjoyable.
When providing feedback, I felt pressure not only to make the right kind of comments, but also in the ‘correct’ tone, as I reflect below:
I feel a need to be constantly 100% enthusiastic. I am worried if I sound tired students may think I was not concentrating enough marking their assessment; if I sound low mood that I am disappointed with them; or sounding too positive that it does not match their mark. (Reflective diary)
I found it emotionally exhausting having to perform the perfect degree of enthusiasm, which I individually tailored to each student and their mark. This is confounded by the fact that I have an autoimmune disease and associated chronic fatigue which means I get very tired and have little energy. Consequently, performing my words / voice / tone is particularly onerous, as is sitting for long periods of time when providing feedback. Similarly, Ekinsmyth (2010) says that colleagues in her study felt a need to be careful about the words used in, and the tone of, audio feedback. This was exemplified when a student had done particularly well, or had not passed the assignment.
Emotions are key to the often considered mundane task of providing assignment feedback to students (Henderson-Brooks, 2021). I have highlighted worries and anxieties when providing audio feedback, related to the emotional labour required in performing the ‘correct’ tone; saying appropriate words; and creating an appropriate environment and atmosphere for delivering audio feedback. I recommend that university colleagues wishing to provide audio feedback to students should:
Publicise to students the purpose of audio feedback so they are more familiar with what to expect and how to get the most out of this mode of feedback. This may alleviate some of the worries of colleagues regarding how to perform for students when providing audio feedback.
Deliver a presentation to colleagues with tips on how to successfully provide audio feedback. This may reduce the worries of colleagues who are unfamiliar with this mode of feedback.
Undertake further research on the embodied, emotional and affective experiences of academics providing audio feedback, to bring to the fore the underexplored voices of assessors, and assist in elevating the status of audio feedback beyond being considered a mere administrative task.
Samantha Wilkinson is a Senior Lecturer in Childhood and Youth Studies at Manchester Metropolitan University. She is a Doctoral College Departmental Lead for PhDs in Education. Prior to this, she was a Lecturer in Human Geography at the same institution. Her research has made contributions regarding the centrality of care, friendship, intra and inter-generational relationships to young people’s lives. She is also passionate about using autoethnography to bring to the fore her experiences in academia, which others may be able to relate to. Twitter handle:@samanthawilko
Remember the Metaverse? Oh, come on, you must remember it, just think back a year, eighteen months ago, it was everywhere! Mark Zuckerberg’s new big thing, ads everywhere about how it was going to transform, well, everything! I particularly liked the ad showing a school group virtually visiting the Metaverse forum in ancient Rome, which was apparently going to transform their understanding of the classical world. Well, that’s what $36 bn (yes, that’s billion) buys you. Accenture were big fans back then, displaying all the wide-eyed credulity expected of a global consultancy firm when they reported in January 2023 that “Growing consumer and business interest in the Metaverse [is] expected to fuel [a] trillion dollar opportunity for commerce, Accenture finds”.
It was a little difficult, though, to find actual uses of the Metaverse, as opposed to vague speculations about its future benefits, on the Accenture website. True, they’d used it in 2022 to prepare a presentation for Tuvalu for COP27; and they’d created a virtual “Global Collaboration Village” for the 2023 Davos get-together; and we mustn’t overlook the creation of the ChangiVerse, “where visitors can access a range of fun-filled activities and social experiences” while waiting for delayed flights at Singapore’s Changi airport. So all good. Now tell me that I don’t understand global business finance, but I’d still be surprised if these and comparable projects added up to a trillion dollars.
But of course that was then, in the far-off days of 2023. In 2024, we’re now in the thrilling new world of AI, do keep up! Accenture can now see that “AI is accelerating into a mega-trend, transforming industries, companies and the way we live and work…better positioned to reinvent, compete and achieve new levels of performance.” As I recall, this is pretty much what the Metaverse was promising, but never mind. Possible negative effects of AI? Sorry, how do you mean, “negative”?
It’s been often observed that every development in communications and information technology – radio, TV, computers, the internet – has produced assertions that the new technology means that the university as understood hitherto is finished. Amazon is already offering a dozen or so books published in the last six months on the impact of the various forms of AI on education, which, to go by the summaries provided, mostly seem to present it in terms of the good, the bad, and the ugly. I couldn’t spot an “end of the university as we know it” offering, but it has to be along soon.
You’ve probably played around with ChatGPT – perhaps you were one of its 100 million users logging-on within two months of its release – maybe to see how students (or you) might use it. I found it impressive, not least because of its speed, but at the same time rather ordinary: neat B-grade summaries of topics of the kind you might produce after skimming the intro sections of a few standard texts but, honestly, nothing very interesting. Microsoft is starting to include ChatGPT in its Office products; so you might, say, ask it to list the action points from the course committee minutes over the last year, based on the Word files it has access to. In other words, to get it to undertake, quickly and accurately, a task that would be straightforward yet tedious for a person: a nice feature, but hardly transformative. (By the way, have you tried giving ChatGPT some text it produced and asking where it came from? It said to me, in essence, I don’t remember doing this, but I suppose I might have: it had an oddly evasive feel.)
So will AI transform the way teaching and learning works in higher education? A recent paper by Strzelecki (2023) reporting on an empirical study of the use of ChatGPT by Polish university students notes both the potential benefits if it can be carefully integrated into normal teaching methods – creating material tailored to individuals’ learning needs, for example – as well as the obvious ethical problems that will inevitably arise. If students are able to use AI to produce work which they pass off as their own, it seems to me that that is an indictment of under-resourced, poorly-managed higher education which doesn’t allow a proper engagement between teachers and students, rather than a criticism of AI as such. Plagiarism in work that I marked really annoyed me, because the student was taking the course team for fools, assuming our knowledge of the topic was as limited as theirs. (OK, there may have been some very sophisticated plagiarism which I missed, but I doubt it: a sophisticated plagiarist is usually a contradiction in terms.)
The 2024 Consumer Electronics Show (CES), held in Las Vegas in January 2024, was all about AI. Last year it was all about the Metaverse; this year, although the Metaverse got a mention, it seemed to rank in terms of interest well below the AI-enabled cat flap on display – it stops puss coming in if it’s got a mouse in its jaws – which I’m guessing cost rather less than $36bn to develop. I’ve put my name down for one.
Dr Paul Temple is Honorary Associate Professor in the Centre for Higher Education Studies, UCL Institute of Education.
Around the world, there is a move toward making curricula more culturally sensitive, diversified, or decolonized. However, the impact of such curricula on students is not yet well understood. My colleagues and I sought to research effects of cultural sensitivity on students’ interest in their subjects, focusing primarily on students in professional education programs across 7 participating institutions. We presented this research at the 2023 SRHE conference. The full paper was published this month in Higher Education. We report briefly on the findings and significance of that study.
This new presentation and publication builds on Dave SP Thomas’ PhD thesis, which we presented at the 2021 SRHE conference and later published in Studies in Higher Education. The initial study conceived and tested a ground-breaking survey instrument, the Culturally Sensitive Curricula Scales (CSCS), that enables students to rate the cultural sensitivity of their curricula. By cultural sensitivity of curricula, we mean curricula in which attitudes, teaching methods and practice, teaching materials, curriculum, and theories relate to, affirm and respect diverse cultures, identities, histories, and contexts. The CSCS survey has paved the way for understanding the extent to which students perceive their curricula as representing diversity, whether people of diverse ethnicities are portrayed in stereotyped or negative ways, the extent to which students are encouraged to challenge power and their experience of inclusivity in classroom interactions.
In the original study, we found that Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic students in a single English university tended to see their curriculum as less culturally sensitive than their White peers. We also found that more culturally sensitive curricula may help boost Black, Asian and minority ethnic students’ interest in the subject. Colleagues in NERUPI, the Network for Evaluating and Researching University Participation Interventions, were intrigued by the initial study as many of them were seeking to create more diversified, decolonised or culturally sensitive curricula.
Seven NERUPI member universities took part in the current, follow-up study on which we reported at the 2023 SRHE conference. In this project, we revised the CSCS survey, expanded the participant pool to a wider range of institutions and programmes of study, and controlled a key potential confounding variable.
Revising the Culturally Sensitive Curricula Scales (CSCS-R) clearly enhanced them, making them more definitive, thorough and reliable. Thus, the CSCS-R is a stronger instrument for use in researching and evaluating students’ experiences of the cultural sensitivity of their curricula.
After surveying nearly 300 second year students in this NERUPI study, we again found that minoritised students perceived the curriculum as less culturally sensitive than White peers. This finding was robust across programmes and universities, suggesting that it is a widespread issue across the higher education sector in England, not a feature of a single university. Most of the participating universities were still in the early stages of curricular reform. The CSCS study was intended to raise staff awareness of these experience gaps amongst their students to support the creation of more culturally sensitive curricula.
We also found Black students tended to rate their curricula as less sensitive than Asian students. These wider ‘experience gaps’ for Black students than Asian students are consistent with wider achievement gaps (‘degree awarding gaps’) for Black students.
Finally, we found that when students rate their curricula as more culturally sensitive, they also tend to have higher interest in their programme, even when controlling for ethnicity and quality of teaching overall. Thus, culturally sensitive curricula appear to be good for all students, not just minoritised students. Surveyed students were primarily studying pro-social professions (eg psychology, education, nursing, social work) where they are preparing for professional roles that serve a diverse clientele and society. These students may be particularly interested by curricula that positively reflect the plurality of the professions to which they aspire and a more just society.
In sum, this study contributes to understanding how teachers can design instruction that both supports students’ interest and reflects an increasingly diverse society. The study, then, may help educators create more interesting and engaging curricula, while also addressing issues of diversity, equality, and inclusivity within HE.
Kathleen M Quinlan PhD PFHEA is Professor of Higher Education and Director of the Centre for the Study of Higher Education at the University of Kent, UK. She researches learning, teaching, assessment, and student engagement in higher education, specialising in understanding how curriculum and instruction can be designed to support students’ interest.
At the SRHE International Conference in December 2023, I was delighted to have the opportunity to present an insight into my doctoral thesis: ‘AnExamination of University Paramedic Students’ Enculturation into the Ambulance Service.’ This was my first time at the SRHE conference, consequently the inevitable nerves were always with me. However, I had no reason to worry, the warm welcome and supportive environment with liked minded people was an excellent opportunity for me to ‘tell my story’. My EdD viva in 2021 followed an ethnography over several years (starting in 2013) which explored university paramedic students’ enculturation (the process of being socialised in a certain culture), into a traditional National Health Service (NHS) Ambulance Service Trust.
The research illustrates the many challenges and dichotomies which faced neophyte paramedics as they went from a university classroom setting into their day-to-day clinical work placements. The challenges they faced were not the result of individuals alone, rather they resulted from an inherent subculture ingrained within the very fabric of the organisational structures of the ambulance service and paramedic profession. This ethnography contributes to the social science literature on health and social care by presenting an introduction to the sociological perspective of student enculturation, from the university classroom into an often-chaotic working environment of the ambulance service.
The research uncovered the way cultural meanings, institutionalised rules, professional identity and working practices determined the working behaviours in the subculture of paramedic practice, as individual situations and experiences were contextualised. Drawing on the work of seminal authors and experts in the field, such as Metz (1981), Mannon (1992) and McCann (2022), this research explores the subculture along with the hidden curriculum which gave rise to it, as it seeks to understand how and why this appeared to hamper and impede the pedagogy experienced by students. This is not the pedagogy taught and encouraged in university, rather a pedagogy which arises out of the intricacies and nuances of the traditional working environment of the paramedic.
There is a complex interplay of subcultural integration between experienced paramedics and students. The work draws on the peculiarity of the language, behaviours, values and working practices of paramedics and students to illustrate the subculture and hidden curriculum which is inherent in their day-to-day working practices. How students transpose what they learn in the university classroom setting to their clinical work placement is examined and unpacked to help illuminate how students contextualise the knowledge formally taught in the university learning environment, to that of the practice setting.
Supported by a plethora of fieldnotes and interviews with students and paramedics, along with my reflective and reflexive accounts collected over a period of eighteen months, my research informs and contributes to the unfolding developments within the paramedic profession. There are working customs and practices not seen by members of the public or portrayed by media representations.
With Professor Diane Waller (OBE) I am co-authoring a book (to be published by Routledge in March 2024) based on my research journey, along with the obstacles, challenges and opportunities presented to me as the principal research investigator. As an experienced paramedic with over 30 years working for a busy inner city NHS ambulance service trust, and 20 years as an academic, teaching student paramedics, I illustrate the various situations that were presented. We delve into the professionalisation of paramedics as we try and make sense of the research findings. One aspect of the doctoral journey shone a light on the insider/outsider dichotomy, which I encountered in the field collecting data.
The ethnography allowed me to engage and witness, first hand, how and why students became so reliant on the subculture and hidden curriculum which O’Reilly (2009), Brewer (2000) and others also highlight, claiming that ethnography can provide forms of in-depth data. It gave me the opportunity to work with participants, to see and be part of their community of practice (Lave & Wenger, 1991), share in their frustrations, anxieties, disappointments and at times sadness which confronted them in their challenging day-to-day work. The intricacies, nuances, colloquialisms, attitudes, and behaviours become exposed, whilst I grappled with the emic position of researcher as I became one of them (Brewer, 2000). I took Burgess’s (1984) advice, that the emic position provides the researcher with full participant observation status, who already belongs to the group being researched. At the same time, I was reminded of Walford (2008), whose opinion highlights the danger of the emic researcher going native – I was keen that my position would not compromise my research findings. Considering the dichotomy between the emic and etic researcher and the potential influence on my study, I illustrate how this dichotomy was managed in the field.
My insider observations helped me to slip between insider (emic) and outsider (etic) roles, to create a persona that encouraged and cajoled participants to disclose and illuminate more confidential and detailed accounts of their day-to-day practices. I was also aware that my research evolved through a reflexive stance related to my personal practice experience throughout the research. Hunt & Sampson (2006) and Van-Maanen (2011) advise using reflexivity to examine the self and voice to help harness and understand the responsibility of the researcher within the research. I combined a meaningful personal, professional and researcher self to the research (Van Maanen, 2007), as I became an integral part of the participants’ community. I worked with them, I copied their language, their slangy terms, their anecdotes and at times their offensive language, to help cement my place within the community. Developments of social research and in particular ethnography, have stimulated discussion on the advantages and disadvantages of ‘insider’ and ‘outsider’ researcher (Allen, 2004).
There were occasions, such as when I was required to treat patients as a paramedic, whereby I removed myself from the research process, then slipped back into the emic role as soon as I had cared for the patient. There were dichotomies within the discourse, as students revealed startling accounts of inappropriate behaviour, or I witnessed criminal damage to the ambulance. These actions often required me to switch between the emic to etic researcher as I continued with the ambulance shift. I questioned myself, at times not really knowing what to do, whether to speak up, or remain silent and ensure my acceptance into their workplace community.
I was riding out with Rupert, a second year Foundation Degree student. This meant that Rupert was employed by the ambulance service as a student paramedic, who returned to university in blocks to commence his academic studies. This also meant that Rupert was working one-to-one with his crewmate (working partner), an experienced old-timer called Albert. The shift was due to start at 15-00 hours and finish at 23-00 hours at Newmoon ambulance station situated in the outskirts of the city. Albert arrived for the shift ten minutes late, although we had not received any emergency calls, so ambulance control was unaware of the situation. At 15-10 Albert arrived and parked his car on the station. I had not met the paramedic (Albert) before, but Rupert had been working with him for a while now and appeared to get on well with him. It was not long within the shift, after attending our second emergency call, that whilst sitting in the ambulance that I could smell alcohol on Albert’s breath as we were talking. Albert was the driver of the ambulance that day and it soon became apparent that Albert had been drinking alcohol prior to starting the shift and driving the ambulance. I found a moment to speak with Rupert privately about my suspicions and to my surprise Rupert was aware of the situation, stating: “Oh don’t worry John (researcher) he often has a little drink before the shift, he only has a couple of pints at lunchtime, everyone knows him around here, it’s okay it’s just something he does”. Taken from my fieldnotes. *
On this occasion I was riding out with Jenny, a foundation degree student. Jenny was driving the ambulance whilst we had a patient in the back of the vehicle taking them to hospital. I sat in the front of the cab so I could talk to Jenny on route to hospital. The patient was in a stable condition, suffering just minor abdominal discomfort. Suddenly, Jenny miscalculated the distance between a passing car and a parked motor vehicle (van) causing us to strike the parked van. I could see from looking through the ambulance wing mirror that we had shattered the van’s right-hand side mirror, which was hanging from the vehicle with shattered glass and debris on the road as we continued passing various vehicles. I looked at Jenny who promptly said: “pretend you didn’t see that John (researcher)” and laughed as we continued en route to hospital. Taken from my fieldnotes. *
* All names and environments have been anonymised with pseudonyms.
The two accounts above, taken from my fieldnotes, illustrate the dichotomy of my insider/outsider relationship which had formed over time with the participants. O’Reilly (2009:110) claims that it is the “insiders’ explicit goal to gain an insider perspective and to collect insider accounts”. It was therefore important for me to have their trust, assurance and be part of their community if I were to witness and experience their real-life working relationships and behaviours. These were real and challenging dichotomies and ethical tensions which I had to grapple with as I spent time in the field as researcher.
Events such as these were difficult and morally challenging situations which stretched and tested my professional and moral compass.
John Donaghy is a Registered Paramedic and academic, with over thirty years’ experience working in an inner-city NHS Ambulance Service Trust, prior to moving into academia twenty years ago as a Principal Lecturer and Professional Lead for Paramedic Science. He has a professional doctorate in Education (EdD) and is a Fellow of the College of Paramedics. He works extensively with both the UK and Irish Regulator of Pre-hospital Emergency Care and continues to undertake clinical shifts at Wembley National Stadium in London, UK. His research interests lie within the professionalisation of practice which led him to explore the ambulance and paramedic service.
References
Allen, D (2004) ‘Ethnomethodological insights into insider-outsider relationships in nursing ethnographies of healthcare settings’ Nursing Inquiry, 11(1), 14–24
Brewer, J. D (2000) Ethnography – Understanding Social Research. 1st, edn, Open University Press. New York, USA.
Hunt, C. & Sampson, F. (2006) Writing self & reflexivity. 3rd edn, New York: Palgrave.
Mannon, MJ (1992) Emergency Encounters – EMTs and their Work. 1st edn, Boston, MA: Jones and Bartlett, Boston
Metz, LD (1981) Running Hot-Structure and Stress in Ambulance Work 1st edn. Edited by D Metz USA: Abt Books, Cambridge, Massachusetts, USA.
O’Reilly, K. (2009) Key Concepts in Ethnography. 1st edn, London: Sage. Los Angeles, London, New Deli, Singapore, Washington DC.
Walford, G (2008) How to do Educational Ethnography 1st edn, London, UK: The Tufnell Press
Some of the reported benefits of using learning analytics data include enabling personalised learning and narrowing attainment gaps. Indeed, a quick dip into some of the recent TEF feedback summaries to higher education institutions seems to suggest that use of learning analytics is valued by TEF panels. But can we learn more from the data to influence teaching practice? Aside from the potential benefits for a more personalised learning experience, we think that it’s a good way of understanding the learning process more generally. Over the past few years, we’ve been analysing some of the data generated from Aston University.
Last minute cramming is not effective in improving attainment.
Yes, your parents were correct – it’s much better to work consistently! Early engagement with studies really appears to matter. In fact, the average attainment levels of those first-year students whose engagement remained at the lowest relative levels throughout the year was very similar to those whose early engagement was lowest in the first three weeks but became the very highest in the last three weeks. In contrast, those who started off enthusiastically, but then lost interest, were awarded higher average marks than any of the groups that started off slowly, regardless of how much or whether their engagement peaked later. The consistency of the data – in that those who started off with high engagement tended to finish with high engagement – was remarkable. Also noteworthy were the effects of early engagement on attainment. For the chart below, we divided students into activity quintiles based on only their first three weeks of engagement (Q5 being the highest engagement) and on end of year mark quintiles (Q5 being the highest attainment). The width of the lines connecting engagement quintile to mark quintile is indicative of the proportion of students linking the two measures. The results highlight how few students pass from higher activity quintiles to lower mark quintiles and vice versa.
Of course, these results come with the usual caveats that we cannot infer cause and effect (it could be that the lower engagers in the first three weeks were just low achieving students). However, for us, this highlights the importance of a good induction into academic life – possibly enhanced by some structured engagement exercises to help get first years into good habits (ie tell them how they should be engaging, and the different ways that they can, not just that they should be doing so). There were probably a fair few students represented in this figure that were not even sure what they were supposed to be doing with all their ‘spare’ time
Behaviour outweighs demographics when predicting attainment
The recent pandemic generated much discussion about digital poverty, suggesting that who we teach might be important – at the very least in terms of access to technology. Our recent evidence suggests that both how you teach and who you teach mattered. However, it is important to note that behaviour outweighed demographics in predicting attainment, albeit that in this case behaviour was probably also influenced by demographics. The gap between disadvantaged students’ attainment and their peers widened during online teaching and assessment conditions, and disadvantaged students were also less likely to obtain all 120 module credits on their first try. We also observed changes in their patterns of engagement, although less so for synchronously delivered teaching (as compared to recorded lectures). Students with the lowest engagement were the ones driving the widened gap; those who engaged well with synchronously provided teaching (even if online) fared much better.
So, we should stop teaching online and get people into the classroom early?
No – not necessarily. We don’t want to claim that all online teaching is bad – instead we need to understand what forms of online teaching work, what good looks like, and how our various teaching strategies affect different groups. Anecdotally, many students have appreciated the flexibility of online teaching, particularly where it has included facilities such as the ability to ask questions anonymously. And if you want to reuse those pre-recorded videos, there has been some interesting research from other research groups on ‘watch-parties’. With the cost-of-living crisis, many students will appreciate being able to log into a lecture from home rather than forking out a bus fare or missing out on some part time work. What is important is to understand what works – and for whom.
Professor Liz Moores is Deputy Dean in the College of Health and Life Sciences at Aston University and has research interests in the evaluation of higher education, particularly as applied to widening participation issues.
Dr Rob Summers is research manager at the Centre for Transforming Access and Student Outcomes (TASO). Before joining TASO, Rob worked in the student outreach team at Aston University managing a randomised controlled trial of two post-16 outreach programmes as part of the TASO MIOM (Multi-intervention, Outreach and Mentoring) project.
This third SRHE Landscapes of Learning symposium – Assemblages – was a deeply engrossing and thought-provoking event. In this response, I want to do three things: pick and connect some particularly fruitful points from each talk – there were many, so this is hard; comment on assemblages and assemblage thinking in relation to current and future learning arrangements, and segue into the practical work of realising better spaces for learning in better universities. Landscapes are both depicted and made. An alertness to relations and flux can sharpen our perception, but can an assemblage sensibility inform better architecture?
Points plucked from the talks
Carol Taylor’s keynote made a persuasive case for connecting Deleuzian thinking about assemblages with a broad set of posthuman perspectives. She went on to offer an impressive array of spatially and materially-grounded example studies, illustrating her approach and also inspiring further research. Assemblage thinking helps us to see things that would otherwise be invisible, to give (almost?) simultaneous attention to questions of how, why, when and what, and to refuse sharp distinctions between bodies, things, words, ideas and feelings – to start with relations between things, rather than with the things themselves. Forming better ways of understanding the circumstances in which things happen is important for students of all fields and disciplines. It is important for teachers and other education workers in a second sense, because it helps set up situations for valued learning and for inducting students into practices of knowledge-making, including the practices of shaping convivial epistemic environments for themselves.
Tim Fawns used ideas of entanglement to reconcile hackneyed arguments about “technology in the service of pedagogy” vs “technology as driving and constraining pedagogy”. Pedagogy first or technology first? In most cases of educational innovation, pedagogical practices and technological infrastructures already exist and are used to justify, explain and constrain one another. They are already assembling or, one might even say, co-constituting one another. This argument is even stronger if one looks more broadly at the personal aims and technologies that students bring with them, and when one takes properly into account the complicated learning places that students configure, furnish and equip for themselves and their peers.
Karen Gravett’s talk made clear that very little is known about how students’ activities are distributed in space, how students find, make and curate places for learning and what this means for matters of belonging (to a university). Certainly, university teachers and leaders cannot claim to know this in any representative, well-theorised or systematic way. Indeed, it emerges that there are many ways of belonging, no one way of managing campus spaces to afford inclusion and no simple metric connecting qualities of place with feelings of belonging, such as might be useful for an estates director’s KPIs.
Harriet Shortt researches relations between places, artefacts and organizational life, including places we might too-simply tag as “for work” or “for learning”. The main research site she spoke about was a newly-built Business School, though she was using this to advocate for participant-led visual methods: getting the users of buildings to photograph places of significance to them and share their annotated images. This is very useful for post-occupancy evaluation but also raises lots of deeper questions about place-making, including how people reconfigure places to resolve tensions between privacy and community, or collaboration and interruption.
The four talks illustrate the importance of understanding study activities through students’ eyes and experiences, with a capacious framing – so that what students curate and contribute isn’t simply missed – and then weaving more elaborate descriptions that catch multiple entanglements (place, tools, tasks, bodies, minds etc) so that all participants and stakeholders can agree a shared understanding of how things are being achieved, sufficient to improve the circumstances in which joint work is done. Subtle observation and an openness to complexity are important when making descriptions of how things are coming to be as they are. Then provisional simplifications are needed to agree on collective action.
Assemblages and assemblage thinking
At several points in the “Assemblages” symposium, a leitmotif emerged: an allusion to using theoretical language at Academic Board. This recognisable shorthand conjures up our shared frustrations, as scholars of higher education, with the conceptual and linguistic gaps between research, policy and practice and with a paradox at the heart of educational work in universities: the insistence on discussing education in a vernacular language, unpolluted with exotic terms-of-art.
I am academic enough to value fine-grained disputes between knowledgeable scholars over what Deleuze and Guattari were trying to say when they wrote about rhizomes, lines-of-flight, segmentarity or assemblage. I also endorse something Carol Taylor said about the dangers of extracting ideas and terms from their intellectual homes and deploying mangled versions of them to serve dubious ends.
But, in my own practice, I am deeply invested in understanding how knowledge, ways of knowing and ways of coming to know, that emerge in our work as scholars of education, can be made useful to other teachers and to students. I have a practical interest in this occurring, coupled with an intellectual interest in how people actually do this work; I study epistemic practices at the boundaries of disciplines and professions. I try to understand what happens when (say) university managers in education, campus infrastructure and IT try to create better learningspaces or when people try to help design ideas travel. In thinking about “assemblage”, I am interested in how clusters of ideas migrate and become useful – to students, when they are tackling challenges that matter to them – and to teachers, architects, technologists and others involved in shaping educational spaces. So, I would say:
Whatever disciplines, professions or roles our students might be preparing themselves for, they will need subtle and sophisticated tools for understanding the world and acting ethically and effectively with others. Posthuman and postdigital perspectives can help students analyse the complex (learning) situations in which they find themselves, and reflect more deeply about how good work is accomplished.
Scholarly teaching must acknowledge the complexities and risks involved when ideas move outside the domain of specialist scholarly debate. It is one thing to induct students into academic life by modelling scholarly disputation. It is quite another to maim or kill a half-grasped idea while it is in flight. There is a time and a place for correcting other people’s use of the term “assemblage” – but perhaps not at meetings of Academic Board.
It’s also worth noting that “assemblage” exists somewhat independently as a technical term in fields such as archaeology, ecology, data science and art practice. One can use the noun “assemblage” to speak about the toolset of an ancient culture, the animals and plants typically inhabiting an area, a complex data set or a three-dimensional collage of objets trouvés, though these usages don’t normally have strong connotations of flux and evolution, such as we find when assemblage is understood as a verb. Moreover, there are lines of analysis within organisational science and science and technology studies (STS) that talk cogently about sociomaterial and sociotechnical assemblages, free from any visible Deleuzian mooring. I’m thinking, for example, of writing by Wanda Orlikowski, Susan Scott and Lucy Suchman on technology in organisations and sociomaterial entanglements in working practices: productive resources for thinking about educational technology, technology in higher education, current and future learning spaces.
In sum, “assemblage” helps us notice and depict sociomaterial relations and change, but it is not the sole preserve of Deleuzian scholarship.
Learning landscapes: making places for coming-to-know
“A key element of placemaking is thus its open-ended and contingent nature. Placemaking is a dynamic experience, through which people, practice and the materiality of place undergo constant change.” (Sweeneyet al, 2018, 582).
Harriett Shortt asked why so many new campus buildings mirror corporate head offices. Why do estates directors and architects impose these giant glazed voids upon us? She asked us to think of other more congenial forms: galleries and museums, for example. I think we should also be bolder and think how it might become possible for everyone involved in university life to engage in intentional place-making. We see what can be done in course and curriculum design through movements such as “Students as Partners”. We get other glimpses of what’s possible in the place-making events captured in the images our speakers shared. Beyond that, I suggest, we might try to make a scholarship of learning places that works in symbiosis with much more organic, bottom-up developments: less concerned with space-efficiency metrics and enabling the corporate; more invested in giving biophilic form to the market-place of ideas. There’s a well-established strand of work in architecture, urban planning and place-making on which we can draw. Christopher Alexander, Jane Jacobs, Marwa al-Sabouni and Thomas Heatherwick spring to mind.
It can be helpful to make a distinction, in educational work, between analysis and design. The first tries to depict and understand an existing state of affairs. The second involves steps to protect or improve upon it. The two depend upon one another, but work upon different objects. They require a dual ontology. In reflecting upon past and present educational events, we do well to acknowledge that tasks, tools and people are deeply entangled – considering assemblages or agencement helps here. But in thinking about what we can change (eg for the next time a course is run, or for the layout of a new learning space), we must break tangled realities into components over which we have some control. By “we” I don’t just mean teacher-designers or learning space researchers. Everyone has a role in this kind of place-making.
Collectively shaping material instances of what Raewyn Connell calls the “Good University” or Ron Barnett calls the “Ecological University” involves some tricky challenges. How do we form coalitions around images of what universities should be doing? How do we identify zones in which we have power to make change – including changes that give us more power to make other changes? How do we consolidate incremental changes so that we don’t dissipate our strength in perpetual defensive work? How do we co-create the infrastructure and reshape the landscapes that afford more socially responsible, sustainable and just ways of working and learning together?
Some of this may still be in our DNA. Jane Jacobs closed her great book on the organized complexity of cities with the following words. I like to think we can apply them to universities.
“Dull, inert cities, it is true, do contain the seeds of their own destruction and little else. But lively, diverse, intense cities contain the seeds of their own regeneration, with energy enough to carry over for problems and needs outside themselves.” (Jacobs, 1961, p448)
Peter Goodyear is Emeritus Professor of Education at The University of Sydney.His research on place, space and learning has appeared in a number of books, including “The Education ecology of universities: integrating learning, strategy and the academy” (Routledge/SRHE, with Rob Ellis, 2019); “Spaces of teaching and learning: integrating research and practice” (Springer, with Rob Ellis, 2018) and “Place-based spaces for networked learning” (Routledge, with Lucila Carvalho & Maarten de Laat, 2017).
SRHE’s ‘Landscapes of Learning for Unknown Futures: prospects for space in higher education’ symposium series, delivered with Professor Sam Elkington and Dr Jill Dickinson, aims to foster continuous dialogue around learning spaces. Here, two of our presenters Dr Karen Gravett and Tim Fawns, reflect on some of the ideas and issues raised during the third symposium on ‘Assemblages’. This blog has been compiled by Sam Elkington, Jill Dickinson, and Rihana Suliman (SRHE Conferences and Events Manager.)
What is the role for human agency in these types of assemblages with human and non-human actors, so as not to feel helpless or a “cog” while respecting the need to de-centre the human?
Karen: Humans still have a key role within assemblages but the perspective is shifted from thinking about the relational connection between humans and nonhumans or materials. This enables us to ask new questions, for example with respect to teaching in a classroom, we might notice not just what the teacher is doing or student is doing, but how the space and objects within the class interrelate and entangle to shape learning in different ways. How do bodies and spaces work together and connect? How are relations shaped by object-space arrangements in classrooms and what inclusions or exclusions are produced as a result?
Tim: Agency is always relational, contingent on the agency of other elements. The agency of humans is constrained by the people, technologies and materials we are bound to or surrounded by. However, a complex understanding of constraint also allows for more agency, because by understanding how they are constrained, humans have more possibilities for action. We can more clearly where we can act on entangled relations. For example, by better understanding our place within a system, we can more easily see the different places where we might be able to reconfigure things to free up space to move.
The teaching approach at many HE institutions is heavily lecture-based. How does this lack of interaction with students affect the conversation we’re having around assemblages and learning space more broadly?
Karen: Teaching that does not include interactions between students and teachers or students and peers and that is transmission focused suits many of the traditional tiered teaching spaces that still dominate UK universities today. This is how we often assume teaching should ‘be done’ to students. If we think about these kinds of object-space arrangements we can see that they may not be conducive to creating meaningful dialogue, to fostering relationships, to engaging a diversity of learners, or to enabling innovative teaching to happen. Fortunately, there is also a lot of creative teaching that is happening both within and beyond these spaces that teachers can learn from. Teachers have always found ways to be subversive and also institutions are increasingly creating new and more flexible learning spaces.
Tim: I am wary of assumptions that there is no interaction in lectures. There is always interaction (and intra-action) in any educational activity; that is one of the premises of an assemblage. In this question, the lack of interaction is seen from the teacher’s point of view. It is important that we focus on what students are actually doing rather than what we assume they must be doing according to a particular teaching method. Spaces are always complex; there are always many things going on, many of which will divert from our expectations. However, the material configuration of a space (e.g. tiered lecture seating and a podium), and the scheduling of time, do impose real constraints on the activity that is likely to manifest. Within any method, we can tinker with these parameters of material and temporal configuration and, thereby, open up more possibilities for agency.
Where does collaborative learning happen in our future learning landscapes? We still seem to work in a very individualist learning mode, through assessment practices to curricula and beyond…
Karen: Yes there is a real need to move beyond values of individualism that are present within both academia and society, and to think about our relational connections and how these matter. Collaboration can happen everywhere and anywhere – via a student-staff partnership project; via dialogic modes of teaching, via group work, via walking and other creative pedagogies. Online and offline. We just have to value it and make it happen.
Tim: That our assessment processes and practices, and our formal structures of higher education, are so tightly configured around individualist learning is a challenge. However, it doesn’t change the fact that collaborative learning is inevitable and, to me, the primary form of learning, particularly if we are thinking of assemblages. As we continue to embed more collective and collaborative practices in education, such as student co-design, group work, and the integration of artificial intelligence technologies, alternative narratives will emerge that fit better with our experiences of collective learning and education. It will be fascinating to see if we adapt practices, policies and structures in response, and how the different narratives – collective and individual – will co-exist in tension and negotiation.
Some universities have created a lot of flexible collaborative classroom spaces – we find that when we create them at my institution, faculty either don’t know how to utilise them or prefer to still use them as lecture halls continuing the individualist learning. How can we create a space that ‘entangles’ both?
Karen: I find really helpful what Diane Mulcahy (2018, p 13) says about space, that “Thinking the term ‘learning spaces’ as something we do (stage, perform, enact), rather than something we have (infrastructure) affords acknowledging the multiplicity, mutability and mutual inclusivity of spatial and pedagogic practices”. In this case educators may need support to think about how they can make and enact the classroom to become an inclusive space. In my institution this happens via conversations for example as part of our PGCLTHE or other peer observation and mentoring practices. Perhaps teachers could be supported to see different ways to teach and to learn from others who are innovating and experimenting in the classroom.
Tim: The configuration of those spaces is actually a big step forward, even if practice and culture are slow to adapt to the new possibilities. A large part of what we need to do now is share practice and engage in open conversations about new possibilities. Individualist teaching may be the bigger barrier here: if we teach as individuals not as teams, and if we don’t talk enough about what we are all doing, we will have less exposure to alternative ways of educating. I think we are then less likely to develop practices that attune to wider contexts and possibilities.
Reference
Mulcahy, Dianne (2018) ‘Assembling Spaces of Learning ‘In’ Museums and Schools: A Practice-Based Sociomaterial Perspective.’ in Spaces of Teaching and Learning, Understanding Teaching-Learning Practice, edited by Ellis, E and Goodyear, P 13–29. Singapore: Springer
Dr Karen Gravett is Associate Professor and Director of Research at the Surrey Institute of Education at the University of Surrey, UK, where her research focuses on the theory-practice of higher education, and explores the areas of student engagement, belonging, and relational pedagogies. She is Director of the Language, Literacies and Learning research group, a member of the SRHE Governing Council, and a member of the editorial board for Teaching in Higher Education, and Learning, Media and Technology. Her work has been funded by the Economic and Social Research Council, the Society for Research in Higher Education, the Association for Learning Development in Higher Education, the British Association for Applied Linguistics, and the Arts and Humanities Research Council. Her latest books are: Gravett, K. (2023) Relational Pedagogies: Connections and Mattering in Higher Education, and Kinchin, IM and Gravett, K (2022) Dominant Discourses in Higher Education.
Tim Fawns is Associate Professor at the Monash Education Academy, Monash University, Australia. Tim’s research interests are at the intersection between digital, clinical and higher education, with a particular focus on the relationship between technology and educational practice. He has recently published a book titled Online Postgraduate Education in a Postdigital World: Beyond Technology. Personal website: http://timfawns.com. Twitter: @timbocop
