Friday, June 14, 2013

What I Wish I Had Learned in School

School for me was not really a pleasant experience. Oh, sure, it had its moments, but it was a struggle. On the one hand, we had the typical high school curriculum, which was about as exciting as paste, and on the other hand, we had the Darwinian social environment red in metaphorical tooth and claw. I didn't fit in either academically or socially, and when I got out of there, it was like a great weight had been lifted from me.

So it's hard to know exactly how to respond to this request: "The idea is pretty simple, we think that as the world becomes more complex, the formal education system is having a harder and harder time keeping up. Plenty of people are spending plenty of cycles looking for answers, but what we really want to do is ask a more fundamental question, 'What do you wish you had learned in school?' We think that by collecting people's personal stories, we can start to develop useful insights and perhaps even come to a few conclusions."

I guess my first, cynical, response the the question would be, "I wish I had learned how to escape."

I read today about things like Class Afloat, which is a high school taught on a tall ship,or the Bronx High School of Science, a so-called magnet school dedicated to (not surprisingly) science, or the Perpich Center for Arts Education, and so on and on and on, and I wonder, why couldn't I have been afforded any of those opportunities. But that's not what happens when you grow up in a small farming community in rural Ontario.

Certainly, I tried to make the most of my high school education, doing things like Reach for the Top and model parliament (where I was the leader (and only member) of the Fascism Reform Party) and band and drama and all the rest of it. I reveled in projects I could design for myself; the teachers gave me quite a bit of latitude, and I would write to embassies and government departments and such for raw materials.

What would I have done in an environment where I could program computers and build robots and write blogs and fly quadrocopters?  Or maybe my school would have been one of those where all this was tantalizingly out of reach, my internet access a small-town trickle of connectivity, the movie-making and the podcasting and robot-fighting something that people at Gloucester and Nepean and Lisgar did, not us out in the country at Osgoode Township (though now Metcalfe is an increasingly-nice suburb of Ottawa, and we might not have been able to afford to live there).

So anyhow, would I have liked to have learned all those things? Well, in the 70s, definitely yes - coming out of high school in 1979 already knowing to program a computer or build a robot would have been a huge advantage. Today, though, it might seem more like vocational education, kind of the 21st century analogue to the courses where the industrial arts kids learned to work on electrical circuits and car motors (you know - the advanced tech of the 1930s).

If I were in school today I'd probably be wanting to learn about carbon fibres and nanotubes and capacitors, genetic creation and manipulation, bioengineering, and all that sort of stuff. I'm not sure - I only know that some of this stuff exists, I'm not sure exactly where it's at and what you can build (or grow) in a high school science lab, but it would be fun to be 15 again and exploring these frontiers. Except that... I hated being 15, and I could wait to get out of there.

I wish we had had a track team at high school. We didn't have individual sports; we had only teams - football, soccer, hockey - and you had to make the team, which meant being able to get in the practice, which didn't work well for people like me, partially because I delivered papers every day and didn't have time for that, and partially because I really didn't like these other people very much (especially in places like soccer fields and locker rooms). But I could run, especially long distances - I once clocked a mile in less than five minutes (4:45 to be precise). But there was only soccer, and I rarely got to play.

Maybe "what I wish I had learned in high school" should have a category for stuff I actually learned, but wish I hadn't. Like the survival skills I needed to get through classes and after-school activities, for example, the reptilian flight-or-flight response that follows me to this day, the alternating thick and thin skin needed to ignore remarks but be keenly aware of when they might escalate into some sort of physical attack.

Maybe what I wish I had learned in high school would be those smooth social skills that the best of us in society display. Watching DARPA's Kathleen Fisher on video last week, for example, I was struck by her geniality and the comfortable manner in which she worked the room and traversed some difficult material. I'm sure we all know those people, they are the ones who always seem to be at ease, comfortable with themselves, able to reach out and really communicate with other people. But you don't see that a whole lot in the smaller and less well-off communities; it feels like the sort of thing you have to be in a position of advantage to be able to develop. But maybe I'm wrong about that.

I don't think people understand the difference between growing up on the inside and growing up on the outside; certainly people who are on the inside don't see it at all, and the people on the outside sometimes sense it, but what can they do?

Take smoking, for example. That's another thing I guess I wish I hadn't learned in high school (though to be quite honest, I guess I actually learned it working at the racetrack in grades 11 and 12, serving drinks in the box lounge). Smoking is a poor person's disease. The people on the inside, for whatever reason, grew up in an environment where you just didn't smoke, but all the working people smoked. You pretty much had to. That was in the 70s and 80s, of course; I'm sure that's all changed now. But there are plenty of other examples like that.

I don't regret not being born into a home where I always knew I would be going to Yale and teaching at MIT or maybe Stanford. I would have become a different person. It was enough my parents gave me the expectation that I would go to university, and the tools that would help me succeed. And I've always known since those days that what distinguished me from them was not some aspect of my education, nor my innate intelligence, nor my work ethic nor my compassion and dedication, no, none of that, nothing but simple facts of birth and social standing.

Yes, I sometimes wish I had learned to escape - but if I had ever gotten that wish, I would never have seen life on the outside, and never sensed the urgency of doing something once I got through university and was in a position to do some good in the world. So I guess that's not what I wish for.

I guess I wish I had learned integral calculus. Yeah, that would have made all the difference.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

The Open Road

Right now, the government awards road-building contracts to large construction companies. But imagine the government decided to end these contracts, and to simply grant anyone who wanted to build a road a license to build a road.

It would still be a complex process, of course. Road-builders would have to secure easements and concessions from landowners, assemble road-building technology and staff, and of course put asphalt on the ground. After construction there would be ongoing issues of maintenance and management.

Still, such roads would be built. Some of them might be barely more than tracks - that's what we saw in the early days of concession roads. Such a road really was just some land granted to open access, where people could drive their carts without crossing someone else's property.

It wouldn't be long before people put tolls on these roads. That's what happened in Britain, as the common lands were enclosed, a network of toll roads developed, and travellers would have to pay a tariff every few miles.

In such an environment it is inevitable that there would be a call for open roads, sometimes also known as free roads, or freeways. The logic would be inescapable: toll booths are like sand in the engine of the economy, causing a harmful friction.
Toll Roads and Navigations:The toll roads and some of their dates are shown in red. River Navigations (improved rivers, even if primarily with drainage in mind) and canals are in blue. The stagecoach route came through Peterborough. The road off (not shown) that passes Barrow and ends at New Holland connected the re-routed stagecoach with the new ferry. (Source: Bennett, 1999, 86)

A movement would develop around the idea of free and open roads, and a logo and map system shared among open road owners and users. We could imagine an organization developing, 'Locomotive Commons', to create standard licenses governing the operation of open roads.

How would the people who owned toll roads respond? Well, we can imagine what they would do from analogy in other fields, like publishing.

Some would be vehemently opposed to open roads, and demand that the government not create or support open roads, as they create unfair "competition" to their toll roads.

Others, though, would embrace the free and open road movement, but they would redefine what the words 'free' and 'open' meant. Basically, a road would be 'free' and 'open' if - and only if - the person managing the road had the right to set up a toll on the road.

Any other license governing the use of the road would be considered to be "more restrictive" and "less free". This would be the case because it would 'restrict' the road manager's 'freedom' to charge tolls for the use of the road.

"You can always take another road," declared the proponents of the new "Free Road" movement. "Nothing prevents you from you from taking one of the more restrictive roads that do not allow the construction of toll booths."

Because of the number of people opposed to toll gates of any kind on the roads, the Locomotive Commons foundation established several different types of license, including:

- LC:NT - the non-tolls license, which prohibited managers from setting up toll booths, thereby ensuring people traveling along the road would never need to pay a toll.

- LC:IA - the "intersect alike" license (IA), which stipulated that if your road connected to a road with a certain license, it had to share the same license. Because, after all, if any part of a road becomes a toll road, it has the effect of making the whole road a toll road.

The "Free Road" movement launched a full-scale opposition to these licenses. They called them "restrictive" and argued that "people should have the right to make a living from the roads" (even if they did not actually build the roads).

Foundations (some funded by the original road-building construction companies that were losing out on the lucrative traffic) organized conferences to make "Declarations" defining the meaning of "free" according to "four freedoms: the freedom to run the road; the freedom to map where the road goes; the freedom to share the road with others; and the freedom to add other roads to the road."

Of course, "sharing the road with others" might involve setting up a toll booth; and any interpretation of "share" that did not allow the establishment of a toll booth was considered a "restriction" on one of the four freedoms.

Eventually, with considerable foundation support, and also the support of organizations that built tolls and managed toll roads, a lobby emerged with enough voices to convince Locomotive Commons to declare that some of its licenses - specifically, the ones prohibiting tolls on the road - to be "not free".

Eventually people just used the new "Free Roads," paying their tolls every few miles, because there was really no alternative. The "Free Roads" wouldn't connect to the "restrictive" No-Toll roads, partially because of the intersect-alike clause, and partly because NT roads really did connect to other places, and the Free Road owners simply didn't want the competition.

Not that it would have mattered. The Free Road owners could always depend on exclusivity. Often, the only way to get from point A to point B was to use a Free Road - they would obtain the concession (and often public financing) to build a Free Road over a river or through a mountain pass, and if you wanted to use it, you had to sign up for a Free Road Account and you would be billed for the full distance traveled, whether you used Free Roads or NT.

Young people would grow up angry about the tolls and fees, and opposing the cost of roads (which most of them couldn't afford anyways). They would join the Free Road Foundation or the Open Road Movement and lobby against corporate subscription-based roads.

But in the end, they found themselves arguing in favour of allowing tolls, because they were arguing for free and open roads, and had learned that licenses prohibiting tolls were actually less free and less open than Free Roads.

Off to the side stood now thoroughly discredited (or, at least, shouted down) the original no-tolls advocate. He had just wanted people to be able to move freely through the land without barriers and hindrance. He wanted people to explore the country no matter whether they were rich or poor. And he even understood how important the opening of free roads across the land was to health, education and commerce.

Now he reflected on a world where traveling down a "Free Road" would cost you money, and where the meaning of "Open Road" meant "could have tolls or barriers." And he began to wonder what would happen when these new meanings of "free" and "open" began to be applied to things like speech, religion, justice and the vote.

Because nothing is "free", I guess, unless someone can come along and charge you money for it.

p.s.

On 12/06/2013 12:58 PM, rory wrote:
If someone closes off OER, someone else can reproduce it elsewhere ad infinitum at no cost. This bears no resemblance to roads with their physical limitations.

I did address this in my text, but having heard from several people on this point now, I conclude my analogy may be been too subtle.

This was not an argument I hadn't anticipated. Here it is restated in my analogy: "You can always take another road," declared the proponents of the new "Free Road" movement. "Nothing prevents you from you from taking one of the more restrictive roads that do not allow the construction of toll booths."

I did answer it at length (though none of the critics gives me credit for even trying).

In order to reproduce something (let it be a road or an OER) one must first have access to the original. Once a commercial version of the resource exists, there is significant incentive on the part of the commercial owner to block or limit access to the original, so that the only available version is the commercial version.

I have over the years identified (and linked to in my newsletter) numerous examples of how access to the original free resource may be limited:
- legal challenges and FUD - making it too much of a risk to use the non-commercial resource
- poisoning - using technical and legal requirements requiring that resources in some way be 'certified'
- flooding - making the free resource just one out of hundreds of versions, pushing the free resource down in search results
- book-storing - creating self-contained environments in which links to free versions are not available
- salting - adding 'extra value' to the commercial resource not available in the free resource
I could add many more but you get the point. These are clear and obvious to anyone who actually looks for them; the evidence is as plain as day.

In my analogy I represented this response as follows: "Eventually people just used the new 'Free Roads,' paying their tolls every few miles, because there was really no alternative. The 'Free Roads' wouldn't connect to the 'restrictive' No-Toll roads, partially because of the intersect-alike clause, and partly because NT roads really did connect to other places, and the Free Road owners simply didn't want the competition.

"Not that it would have mattered. The Free Road owners could always depend on exclusivity. Often, the only way to get from point A to point B was to use a Free Road - they would obtain the concession (and often public financing) to build a Free Road over a river or through a mountain pass, and if you wanted to use it, you had to sign up for a Free Road Account and you would be billed for the full distance traveled, whether you used Free Roads or NT."

Again - maybe too subtle.

A great deal is made of the fact "non-rivalrous goods like data on the Internet" can be reproduced at will. But in publishing and commerce generally, there are rivalrous goods. The time and attention of readers, the trechnology at their disposal, the balancing of rights and regulations - all these are rivalrous elements in what would otherwise nonriovalrous market. It is from my perspective a naive and unsupportable argument to suggest that people can just reproduce free copies of these newly-commercialized resources.

Indeed, if the business model of publishers of CC-by content were so easily disrupted, there would be no return on their investment, and they would never get into the business. The very fact that there is a pro-commercial lobby for the use of (otherwise) free resources is itself proof that the "you can just make free copies" argument is fallacious.

OK, that's it, I'm done. No more arguing from me on this. If you continue to support the "everyone must support CC-by" position, I will simply regard you as being against free and open access to learning and learning resources, and working instead for people trying to privatize the education system, puting your own narrow self-interest ahead of wider social values (putting you in my mind on par with banks and the oil industry).

"Let's see someone close off the route to Europe from America. As long as the air and water are free they can close off what they want and who would pay attention!"

Indeed. There are millions of would-be immigrants around the world who would only wish that were the case. They wish nobody had thought of a way of defining 'free' in terms of borders. I do know that anyone attempting to cross from Europe to North America by means of a purely non-commercial route will be arrested for immigration violations. The Open Road has truely been closed.

p.p.s.


One more, and then I'm done, I promise!

Pete Forsyth wrote to this list, in part:

* Mr. Downes first (publicly) described the works of Shakespeare as "easy" to define in terms of openness; but when pressed for what that easy answer was, he (privately) described the issues as "complex" and outside the realm of a simple yes/no answer.
* He inquired (due to a misunderstanding of my questions) about the availability of the introduction and index of a certain edition of Hume's Treatise. For any who are interested, it is here, in several formats: http://openlibrary.org/books/OL23349825M/A_treatise_of_human_nature

I have learned a few things about Mr. Downes' thinking on the matter; I don't find any of it persuasive; and I have found his approach hostile and disingenuous. I intend to withdraw from this discussion.

I admit that I have become increasingly frustrated by this discussion, and I have been snippish to some people, for which I apologize.

But my desire to stay off-list was based in my belief that people on this list don't want to watch the back and forth debate on the point I raised. However, now that a version of it is on list, I offer you the full text of the discussion, and readers can decide for themselves whether my responses have been accurately represented above, and whether I have been hostile and disingenuous.


On 12/06/2013 1:39 PM, Pete Forsyth wrote:

Rather than exploring a complex hypothetical scenario, why not look at a real educational resource with an extensive history that long pre-dates CC licenses, and consider whether or not we consider it "open"--

The play Hamlet is in the public domain, and as such, there is no restriction on its reuse relating to whether or not that use incurs profit. (There's nothing analogous to the "NC" provision.)

So, any publisher can -- and many publishers have -- charged money for it. I find it difficult to understand how that can be described as locking it down or preventing reuse, because it can also be downloaded for free (or at least, free of charges beyond the needed equipment) from places like Wikisource: http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Tragedy_of_Hamlet,_Prince_of_Denmark/Act_1

But more to the point, a (non-profit) high school *or* a (for-profit) theatre company may perform Hamlet without paying anybody a royalty.

It seems to me that your position is that Hamlet is not free, because there is no provision protecting it from commercial exploitation. Is that correct? 


(My response)


Shakespeare is easy. Do a real-life one: David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. L.A. Selby-Biggs (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1888) (be sure to include Selby-Biggs's introduction and lengthy index, which are the real values of this edition).

I think you'll find that for pretty much every public domain work other than the few painstakingly gathered in Gutenberg the argument I offer stands up pretty well.

-- Stephen



From:Pete Forsyth []
Sent: Thursday, June 13, 2013 11:15 AM 


Sorry to belabor the point, but I don't understand your answer -- what is the easy conclusion? It's free and open? Or it's not free or open?

> Do a real-life one:

The reason I chose Shakespeare's Hamlet is precisely because it is real-life. It's a play I've both paid to read, and read for free; and that I've both paid to watch, and watched for free. As far as I know, no royalties exchanged hands when my high school put it on. I've learned from it in both formal and informal environments, and I suspect many others on this list have as well. To me, this seems like the quintessential OER.

In what respect do you consider it not "real-life"?

-Pete

From: Pete Forsyth []
Sent: Thursday, June 13, 2013 11:22 AM

Stephen, I replied on the list about Shakespeare. I don't understand why you're bringing up Hume -- but in direct response to that example, isn't that online and freely available? Is this not the introduction you're seeking?

http://archive.org/stream/treatiseofhumann01humeuoft#page/n15/mode/2up

-Pete

Hiya Pete,

I used the Hume reference instead of Shakespeare because Shakespeare is low-hanging fruit. It has been reproduced in Gutenberg and received wide circulation.

But the vast majority of public domain content is *NOT* freely available in the way that the Shakespeare is freely available. Shakespeare is the exception, not the rule.

That’s why I referenced the 1888 Selby-Biggs edition of Hume. It’s clearly in the public domain. But you just can’t find it anywhere; the only way to get it is to buy it. This is true of the majority of public domain work (and, ultimately, will be true of the majority of CC-by work).

You found an edition of Hume’s Treatise, but *NOT* the Selby-Biggs edition. I picked this edition specifically because Selby-Biggs added a long interdiction and famous analytical index. You cannot find that edition anywhere. At least, I couldn’t.

-- Stephen

> Shakespeare is the exception, not the rule.

You seem to be making an incorrect assumption about the conclusion I'm trying to draw. I'm not interested in whether or not the treatment of my example is typical -- only in whether or not you consider it to be free and open. You have yet to answer that, here or on the list.

> You found an edition of Hume’s Treatise, but *NOT* the Selby-Biggs edition.

Well, it's edited by Selby-Bigge, and was first published in 1888. It also has a very detailed index, and a preface that explains why it has such a long index. If there's more to it than that, and I missed the version you're seeking, never mind I guess. But I don't see how any of this is germane to my question.

Pete


My mistake, you did find the Selby-Biggs edition. It didn’t show up at all on the Google search (which is kind of my point, that the OA versions get buried). How dod you find it?

> I'm not interested in whether or not the treatment of my example is typical -- only in whether or not you consider it to be free and open. You have yet to answer that, here or on the list.

You’re just using a rhetorical trap, trying to get me to provide simple yes-no answers to complex questions. My point isn’t (and never was) a simple statement about whether ‘X’ resource is free and open. Under some circumstances the work could be free and open; under other circumstances the same work might not be. Right now we have no problems accessing Shakespeare, but longer term, after publishers do the Napster treatment to Open Archives and Gutenberg, we will have significant problems. My argument is that CC-by licensing doesn’t convey unique protections on resources, and that of a CC-by resource is a ‘free’ resource, it is no less legitimate to call a NN-NC resource a ‘free’ resource.

This isn’t about ‘winning’, it’s about understanding the environment in which we work, and rhetorical tricks don’t help with that.


From: Pete Forsyth []
Sent: Thursday, June 13, 2013 1:42 PM 


> My mistake, you did find the Selby-Biggs edition. It didn't show up at all on the Google search (which is kind of my point, that the OA versions get buried). How dod you find it?

I went to the Internet Archive, and using their search engine. In my experience this is a vastly more effective way of finding PD works than Google. I highly recommend it.

> I'm not interested in whether or not the treatment of my example is typical -- only in whether or not you consider it to be free and open. You have yet to answer that, here or on the list.

You're just using a rhetorical trap, trying to get me to provide simple yes-no answers to complex questions.

No, no trap -- I just wanted an answer. "It's complex" is a perfectly good answer, and helps me understand your thinking, though I'm still not sure why you're only answering here and not on the list where I asked.



This isn't about 'winning', it's about understanding the environment in which we work, and rhetorical tricks don't help with that.

At this point in this discussion, I have a lot more confidence in my own understanding of that environment, than in yours. You're free to disagree.



 

From: Pete Forsyth []
Sent: Thursday, June 13, 2013 3:37 PM




All:


I'd like to follow up on the Hamlet example I introduced. Mr. Downes replied on one of these lists, and separately in private; while I wish to respect any desire to keep specific comments private, I think a couple points in summary merit followup to the lists.

* Mr. Downes first (publicly) described the works of Shakespeare as "easy" to define in terms of openness; but when pressed for what that easy answer was, he (privately) described the issues as "complex" and outside the realm of a simple yes/no answer.
* He inquired (due to a misunderstanding of my questions) about the availability of the introduction and index of a certain edition of Hume's Treatise. For any who are interested, it is here, in several formats: http://openlibrary.org/books/OL23349825M/A_treatise_of_human_nature

I have learned a few things about Mr. Downes' thinking on the matter; I don't find any of it persuasive; and I have found his approach hostile and disingenuous. I intend to withdraw from this discussion.

-Pete
 

Monday, June 10, 2013

Ongoing Digital Citizenry Training

Responses to comments on my recent online talk, in preparation for my keynote in Caracas in a couple weeks. Commenter voices are in italics. The original forum and comments are all in Spanish; I'm working through an interpreter.




·        Perhaps the greatest challenge lies in introducing technology in classrooms through an innovative methodology which suits the times in which we live. This will make subsequent ongoing training easier throughout the learner’s life.

This is a challenge because it is not a single objective, but one which changes over time. Each year we see new technology and new methodology. People change, society changes. So it’s important not only to help people adapt to the technology and methodology of the day, but to develop and adapt new methodologies into the future.

Historically, the classroom has been among the slowest segment of society to make these changes. As one person reported in a study a few years ago, “I turn off my technology when I go to school.” Outside school, we are connected and communicating and creating. But this seems still to be the exception inside the classroom.

Consequently, I am led increasingly over time to challenge whether we should be depending on the classroom for future learning at all. It is a very difficult environment in which to work, where teachers work alone, separate from each other and society, and more recently, with less and less control over their working conditions. I would rather see teachers work within information and communications networks, rather than debate how to incorporate these networks into an unfriendly and outdated classroom environment.

·        ICTs have opened up a wide range of training possibilities which are nonetheless not entirely new. For some time now there has been talk of the importance of personalised learning and the need for it to take the learner's interests and learning conditions into account. Today, technology allows us to apply constructive approaches which learning centres have been trying to introduce in training institutions for decades.

I would be the first to agree that many of the approaches now being adopted by technology-enhanced learning were developed and tried in learning centres in the years before technology. I myself remember working at development education centres in Calgary and in Northern Alberta employing adaptive and constructive pedagogy.

Many of these approaches, though, were difficult and expensive to adapt on a widespread basis. What technology enables is what Toffler originally called ‘mass customization’. For example, while connecting people with similar interests and aptitudes has always been a value, prior to the use of technology it was only possible in urban centres. But today people who are distributed geography can now associate with communities of interest.

·        ICTs are an inclusive tool, especially for those people who have obstacles that hinder their access to information or who have limited access to learning in one way or another, as ICTs define multiple ways to access information through multimedia, programmes and applications.

I agree that ICTs have this potential. But I caution that this does not happen automatically, and that there are risks associated with it.

For example, prior to the use of ICTs, we would buy products, and own them. This we could buy a book or a record album and read it or listen to it and share it with our friends and even resell it. But digital content is typically licensed, not sold, which means that one copy can only be used by one person, which may actually increase costs and barriers, unless addressed in some way through ‘fair use’ legislation or through licenses that permit sharing.

·        Currently, learning takes place in the community and as a result of an interaction with all its social elements and agents. Thanks to technological advances there is now an endless amount of knowledge which can be put to the service of the community. More is probably learnt from those elements from which we believe we learn least – knowledge is certainly not located in any specific special place. It can be found whenever someone wants to find it and in any place.  Do you agree?

Yes, I agree. One of the slogans I have used for many years to describe the use of ICTs is this: “People should learn about forestry in a forest, about law in the courtroom, about cuisine in the kitchen.” I still believe this. One of the advantages of ICTs that we Will eventually see, I think, is that we depend less and less on content and textbooks, and more and more on real experiences in the wider community.

·        If we want to learn, we have to seek out sources ourselves. We firstly need to do this whilst in the school system, as we have more interest in learning. The truth is, however, that we learn on a daily basis. We learn from each other, through our own experiences, from trial and error, from new technologies, from books, magazines, and from the few educational programmes we can find on the television. We learn from everything and everybody.

This is quite true. One of the great challenges for the school system, though, is to not destroy this interest in Learning. There is an old ‘Calvin & Hobbes’ cartoon where Calvin is all eager to attend his first day of school, ready to learn all about the world, and where he returns home, dejected, hating school and hating everything to do with Learning. This is sadly far too common the result of school. We do as humans have a natural desire and ability to learn, but it can be beaten down and defeated by the education system.

We read a lot in educational theory about motivation. But motivation is only necessary when we are trying to persuade people to do things they do not want to do. The fact that we need to motivate students is already a sign that we are failing. We as educators should be following students, helping them pursue their own interests in their own way, providing the support and encouragement and expertise they need, but helping them meet their own ambitions and objectives, not burdening them with ours.




On Being in the Public Service

I could probably obtain employment in the private sector, and it remains my back-up plan should the current gig at NRC come to an end (I continue to be 'unqualified' to obtain employment at a university). I'm sure I could earn more money, one way or another, working in the private sector.

But as I told our new General Manager recently, I feel like I belong at the National Research Council. "I'm where I want to be," I said. My sense of meaning and belonging are satisfied to a greater extent working, as they say, "in the service of Canadians," than they would serving some more particular interest.

I say this because this is National Public Service Week, an occasion I'm sure all of us in the public service greet with a certain amount of cynicism, especially recently, but one which touches on why many of us are here.

It's not just a job. When I'm working here, it's hard not to ignore the fact that I'm working for the same outfit that employs people like Stephen Lewis, Chris Hadfield and Romeo Dallaire. That's not insignificant (no, I don't get to have lunch with them).

There was some concern last year when the new Values and Ethics Code for the Public Sector came out, especially that part which was euphemistically titled 'respect for democracy', as it seemed to suggest that we needed to 'toe the line' and follow the policy and direction of the Prime Minister and his government.

But, of course, we've always had to do that. It comes with the job. Our primary purpose is to serve the people of Canada, but what that amounts to, in practice, as it is sometimes intoned in our offices, "our task is to serve the government of the day."

The 'Respect for Democracy' section says:
The system of Canadian parliamentary democracy and its institutions are fundamental to serving the public interest. Public servants recognize that elected officials are accountable to Parliament, and ultimately to the Canadian people, and that a non-partisan public sector is essential to our democratic system.
Now (as later sections make clear) that does not mean I put away my own views and interests when I join the public sector, nor even does it mean I can support a political party and engage in political activism. But what it does mean, very clearly, is that I can't use my office to support one or another political party, and I cannot use the resources of the Government of Canada to support a political campaign on behalf of one or another party.

That I think is pretty reasonable. Indeed, one might argue (as I have in the past) is that this does as much to protect the public service from the government of the day as it does to ensure that we support its policies and procedures when we are at our workplace. Just ask Mike Duffy and Pamela Wallin.

It's not really a fine line at all. Not to me. And it's not a violation of my oft-touted principles to work in the interest of political policies I personally oppose (and to do so enthusiastically).

I have a multitude of principles on topics ranging from environmentalism to truth in advertising to open access and free learning. At the top of that list of values is respect for and support for the instruments of democracy. I believe that each and every person has the right to be heard, to be represented, and where appropriate, to have those views upheld and implemented. Even if those views are sometimes not mine.

It reminds me of the days when I was president of the Graduate Students' Association, and hence, chair of GSA representative meetings. Clearly, I had a political agenda. But when I sat in that chair, my demeanor changed, necessarily, as my job became one of ensuring that the meeting ran properly and people were able to be heard and make decisions. 

This sometimes resulted in Council voting to support measures I opposed. Quite often, actually. But I considered it to be more of a political victory to see democratic process implemented and respected in the GSA that I did to see any particular policy implemented within the organization.

It's also similar to my approach regarding the nascent Moncton Free Press. We are intended as an alternative newspaper, and of course there's going to be certain (generally progressive) points of view represented in the newspaper. But despite my support for some of those views, I still want to see the opposing view represented in the newspaper, and even featured, if it wins enough support. Because, as I explained to others, having a newspaper where every point of view can be represented is itself the political victory.

I see becoming a member of the public sector as making a choice to play a similar role in terms of national and public policy. It's more of a victory to me to see that a government that wins the support of the people can implement its agenda, than it would be for me to work in my role as a public servant to constantly try to undermine that agenda.

Right now, this means supporting the agenda and prupose of a government I would not personally vote for. But I know full well that one day a government I would vote for may take office, and I want the mechanisms to be in place to enable that government to succeed. Nothing undermines faith in society and public institutions more than to see the people vote for a certain legislative agenda and approach, only to have it undermined by undemocratic forces operating in the structure of government.

But supporting the government of the day is not the only value the public service represnts. Here's another one, again from the new Values and Code of Ethics document:
Treating all people with respect, dignity and fairness is fundamental to our relationship with the Canadian public and contributes to a safe and healthy work environment that promotes engagement, openness and transparency. The diversity of our people and the ideas they generate are the source of our innovation.
 This is pretty important to me.  It forms the basis of my work toward wider access to education, and support for openly accessible resources. It also forms the basis for my work in an open environment, such as the publication of my newsletter, and even in my writing of this article. It's what we saw most recently in the work of Chris Hadfield - he could have just gone up and did his job in space, but he chose to take us all along with him.

It is also interesting to me to see in this values a reflection of the principles I find essential to the proper and effective functioning of a network. I've enumerated them on numerous occasions before: diversity, autonomy, openness, interactivity. These are also the values we want to promote in society, and it becomes the role of the public service is to ensure and support them.





















Monday, June 03, 2013

What's Ours

As it was purchasing Tumblr, Yahoo was also quietly making changes to the Flickr photo sharing service. Flickr has been one of Yahoo's few success stories recently, and this was the first major revision to the site in a number of years.

The change came without warning, it dramatically changed the look at feel of the site, it changed the emphasis from sharing and community to photo browsing, and it upset a lot of people.

Like Jenny Mackness, I've been a member of the site since the beginning, have become a 'pro' (ie., 'paid') member, and have thousands upon thousands of photos stored on the site.  And my issue with the changes are similar to hers: it’s like hanging too many paintings on a wall in an art gallery, and 'Collections’ no longer show on the opening Flickr page.

And most importantly, "the worst thing about these changes is that they have decreased and diminished my sense of ownership over my own photos, since I no longer have a choice about how they should be displayed" It's not as bad as Google+, which has been "auto-enhancing" (ie., wrecking) my photos, but it's bad enough.

And she adds, "What Flickr hasn’t seemed to recognize is that they have ‘meddled’ with my identity." This was the part I thought she got exactly right.

But Alan Levine responds: "I disagree- Jenny gets a lesson that third party sites are not 'ours'. If they do their job well it has that sensation."

And he has a point, of course. Spaces like Flickr and Facebook and Google+ and Tumblr belongto large corporations who offer us certain services in exchange for the right to monetize our creativity and attention. From time to time they will allow us to pay for extensions to that privilege, which is how I can to pay Flick for 'pro' membership and Google for 100 gig of 'cloud' space.

And of course, these spaces are not ours, which is what in turn motivates things like the Domain of One's Own project, which exists thanks in no small part to Levine's own efforts. In the past I've supported the idea, and I still do, because, as we have just seen, these large corporations that give us a place to put our stuff are fickle.

That said, I have no illusion that hosting my own domain and server and all the rest of it will free from such fecklessness. It simply moves it back a level.

For example, the ISP on which I hosted my own server has been purchased three times since I started with them (which is how I find myself a SoftLayer customer without even trying). Everything about my service (and most importantly, the Linux configuration  support, which has long since vanished) has changed.

At home, I found myself viewing advertisements inserted into my web stream by my internet service provider (which also admitted to 'traffic-shaping' and of course bandwidth limits). Though I don't think it does this any more (I'm not sure, because I bolted from the service as soon as I could) I get the same sense of my personal space being violated.

And of course there's the wireless internet access industry, a collection of companies that have proven manifestly unable to resist no-cancellation policies and excessive roaming fees, and the platforms on which smartphones run, which enforce monopolies like the iTunes store or Google Play. Having iTunes deleting your music or Google Play banning updates certainly feels like a violation.

Even if I were to construct my own internet backbone and manufacture my own computers, our economy is so interlinked that fickle behaviour on the part of one corporation or another (perhaps the power company, perhaps the government) will intrude on my space. Because, in the end, everything I own, everything I create, everything I see, is obtained from, and at the discretion of, corporations and service providers.

This is not sour grapes; it's just a fact. It's no more or no less a fact that that I buy my food from restaurants and grocery stores, my clothing from Mark's Work Wearhouse, my water from the City of Moncton and my gas from Enbridge. It would be ridiculous and futile to attempt to provide all these things for myself; it makes much more sense to do what I do well, get paid for it, and purchase these services from others.

But with these purchases and exchanges of services, I have come over time to have certain expectations. Indeed, it is impossible to build a reliable network of goods and services if these expectations are not met. I do not expect my food to poison me, I do not expect the power or gas to stop functioning for no good reason, and I would consider it an affront if the City came along and said it was rezoning my property and neighbourhood to heavy industrial.

No, I don't own any of these things, but they all taken together form part and parcel of my life, my livelihood, and yes, even my identity.

So Jenny Mackness is not wrong to complain about sudden and unexpected changes in service delivery, not least in one she pays for, but also one in which she exchanges other value (such as her creativity and attention) for services. There's no reason why web services should be any different in this way from the newspaper or the gas company.

We need to become more clear about this. More and more of our digital world is moving into the cloud. Software we used to buy and install, like Photoshop, is now a service. That's fine (if expensive) if we can control our software. But if we start getting upgrades without being asked, and if our computers and other tools suddenly start performing in erratic and unexpected ways, or if we suddenly lose features (like Google Reader, or anything useful in Apple iMovie), then the loss of control we feel is real.

The software and digital content industries as a whole will have to be very careful. They have already tricked people into believing they are purchasing 'licenses' and not actual products, even when those products are shrink-wrapped and stored on DVDs. This resulted in significant push-back as people lost the right to copy, trade or resell their purchased product. But at least if the product changed they could keep the old one.

Now they will not even give us the product itself. They'll change it whenever they want. Terms of service, cost increases, usage caps - we've already seen that the industry will do whatever it wants if it feels it can wring a few extra dollars out of the service. The users - as we well know - are not the customers. The only people corporations answer to are the shareholders.

That's why we need to push back. These services are beginning to play an essential role in our lives. Just as the gas company cannot by law turn off the heat in winter, just as banks by law cannot charge more than a certain rate of interest, just as telephone companies by law must allow you to keep your number when you switch service, there is a growing need for an understanding that people demand, and must receive, a certain consistency in online environments.

Last week I linked to an article launching a campaign for a "people's terms of service." I commented, "Some of the terms that would be highlighted are laudible - the idea that such agreements could not be arbitrarily changed, that producer data collection practices would be transparent, that companies would respect user copyright, and that industry standard data security measures would be in place."

But I didn't like the mechanism, and I noted that companies will simply ignore these provisions. What might be needed I think is something rather stronger. So, here's the message to Flickr, the new owners of Tumblr, and the other vendors making a lot of money hosting our stuff and providing services online: if you can't behave, people will push back. Because they do feel their sense of identity is being infringed upon.

This sort of dissonance is real. How do you think the people who purchase Joe Fresh felt when they saw their favorite shirt among the wreckage of the Bangladesh sweatshop

Companies can get away with a lot. But when they start messing with people's sense of self, they are starting to tread dangerous ground. It might be something as simple as they way we are able to display our images online. But I think we know, intuitively, that if we can't even control that, then there's a lot more serious stuff behind the scenes we can't sway at all, and it begins to gnaw at us, bit by bit.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

MOOC - The Resurgence of Community in Online Learning



In this presentation Stephen Downes addresses the question of how massive open online courses (MOOCs) will impact the future of distance education. The presentation considers in some detail the nature and purpose of a MOOC in contrast with traditional distance education. He argues that MOOCs represent the resurgence of community-based learning and will describe how distance education institutions will share MOOCs with each other and will supplement online interaction with community-based resources and services. The phenomenon of 'wrapped MOOCs' will be described, and Downes will outline several examples of local support for global MOOCs. The implications for the French-speaking world of distance education will be considered, and Downes will outline strategies and examples of the use of MOOCs to promote linguistic diversity.



What is a MOOC?



Thank you, it is a pleasure to be able to be here today. [slide 1 – MOOC Wordle]

My objective in this talk is to address how the massive open online course (MOOC) will impact the future of distance education, and in particular, strategies and examples of the use of MOOCs to promote cultural and linguistic diversity.

The proposition I will offer is that MOOCs give us a new way to understand learning, and hence, a new way to understand certain types of learning, such as for example learning that supports diversity in language and culture.

To be clear, my expertise is in the field of open online learning, and not in the field of cultural and linguistic diversity. So my talk can only carry the discussion a certain distance. My hope is to offer a starting point for this discussion.

And I want to be clear that when I talk about a MOOC, I am talking about a different kind of learning. Most of you will be familiar with the traditional online course, which is based on the presentation of content and information, and based on a clear curriculum which is to be learned.

And the MOOCs you may have read about in the newspaper, the online courses offered though American universities such as Harvard and Stanford and MIT, these MOOCs are also examples of traditional online learning, with content and curriculum.

My understanding of the term ‘MOOC’ is a bit different; it is derived from a theory of learning based on engagement and interaction within a community of practitioners, without predetermined outcomes, and without a body of knowledge that we can simply ‘transfer’ to the learner.

And my understanding of the term ‘MOOC’ is based on five years of experience developing and offering MOOCs, from the very first MOOC, “CCK08”, created by George Siemens and myself in 2008, and run a total of four time in the years following, to MOOCs in personal learning envrionemnts, critical literacies, and more.

So, first I will talk about what I mean by a MOOC and expand a bit on MOOC pedagogy. Then I will talk about the outcomes of a MOOC and the purpose of offering or taking a MOOC. Then I will address the relation between MOOC and community, and finally I will make some observations and offer some examples showing how MOOCs can promote cultural and linguistic diversity.

[slide 2 – MOOC] To begin, then, with the definition: The term MOOC as is commonly known stands for ‘Massive Open Online Course’. That gives us four terms: ‘massive’, ‘open’, ‘online’, and ‘course’.

There have been numerous efforts recently to define each of these four terms, sometimes in such a way as to result in an interpretation opposite to the common understanding of the term. To some people, a MOOC may be thought of as a small, closed, and offline.

In my opinion, we should be relatively rigid in our definition of a MOOC, if for no other reason than to distinguish a MOOC from the other forms of online learning that have existed before and since, and hence to identify those aspects of quality that are unique to MOOCs. Hence, a MOOC is to my mind, defined along the following four dimensions:

[slide 3 – massive] Massive - here I mean not necessarily the success of the MOOC in attracting many people, but in the design elements that make educating many people possible. And here we need to keep in mind that to educate is to do more than merely deliver content, and more than to merely support interaction, for otherwise the movie theatre and the telephone system are, respectively, MOOCs.

My own theory of education is minimal. It is so minimal it hardly qualifies as a theory, and is almost certainly not my own: “to teach is to model and to demonstrate; to learn is to practice and reflect.”

Thus, minimally, we need an environment that supports all four of these on a massive scale. In practice, what this means is a system designed so that bottlenecks are not created in any of the four attributes: modeling, demonstration, practice, and reflection.

To offer a simple example: an important part of reflection is the capacity to perform and then discuss performance with others. If each person must perform and discuss the performance with a specific person, such as the teacher, then a bottleneck is created, because there is not enough time to allow a large number of people to perform.

Similarly, if each performance and discussion involves the entire class, the same sort of bottleneck is created. Hence, in order for a course to be massive, performance and reflection must be designed in such a way that does not require that certain people view all performances.

You may ask, why would it be necessary for a course to be massive? Indeed, this seems to run against what we know of teaching and learning, where we want smaller class sizes and personal attention from an instructor. And this is quite true, if we think of ‘massive’ in the sense of ‘mass media’ or ‘mass lectures’. These become ineffective precisely because they become impersonal.

But at the same time, if we depend on individual tutoring to propagate and promote any sort of culture, whether it be the culture of physicists or the culture of francophones, we will find progress in promoting that culture slow and expensive.

What we are attempting to repeat on a massive scale in a MOOC is not the delivery of instruction or the management of learning resources. We are trying to emulate, on a massive scale, these small-scale and personal one-to-one interactions. It is this interaction that is the most significant in learning, but also often the most important, and for a course to be truly massive, it must enable, and even encourage, hundreds or even thousands of these small interpersonal interactions.

[slide 4 – open] Open – I have had many arguments with people over the years regarding the meaning of ‘open’, and in my opinion these arguments have most always involved the other people attempting to define ‘open’ in such a way as to make ‘open’ mean the same as ‘closed’.

There are different senses of the word ‘open’ in education. The word ‘open’ is a single word in English that corresponds to three separate words in French:

First, there is the sense of ‘open’ as in ouvert. This is the sense of ‘open admissions’ in education, where there are no academic barriers to admission to a course.

Second, there is the sense of ‘open’ as in gratis. This is the sense of ‘open access’, where there is no fee or tuition or subscription charge required in order to access a resource.

Third, there is the sense of ‘open’ as in libre. This is the sense of ‘open educational resource’, where a resource that one has accessed to may be reused in any way desired, without limitations.

For my own part, the meaning of ‘open’ has more to do with access to a resource, as opposed to having to do with what one can do with a resource. The definition of ‘open source software’, or ‘free software’, for example, assumes that the software is already in your possession, and defines ways you can inspect it, run it, and distribute it, without limitations. 

But this definition is meaningless to a person who, for whatever reason, cannot access the software in the first place. The more common and widely understood meanings of ‘free’ and ‘open’ are broader in nature, more permissive with regard to access, and more restrictive with regard to the imposition of barriers.

In particular, something (a resource, a course, an education) is free and open if and only if:

- the resource may be read, run, consumed or played without cost or obligation. This addresses not only direct fee-for-subscription, but also enclosure, for example, the bundling of ‘free’ resources in such a way that only those who pay tuition may access them

- there are reasonable ways to share the resource or to reuse the resource, and especially to translate or format-shift the resource  (but not necessarily to be able to sell or modify the resource)

Having said that, as George Siemens and I discussed the development of MOOCs in 2008, we were conscious of and communicated the fact that we were engaged in a progression of increasingly open access to aspects of education:

             first, open access to educational resources, such as texts, guides, exercises, and the like

             next, open access to curriculum, including course content and learning design

             third, open access to criteria for success, or rubrics (which could then be used by ourselves or by others to conduct assessments)

             fourth, open assessments (this was something we were not able to provide in our early courses)

             fifth open credentials

And by the term ‘open’ we very clearly intended both the aspects of access and sharing to be included; what this meant in practice was that we expected course participants not only to use course resources, curriculum, etc., but also to be involved in the design of these.

Hence, for example, before we offered CCK08, we placed the course schedule and curriculum on a wiki, where it could be edited by those who were interested in taking the course (this was a strategy adapted from the ‘Bar Camp’ school of conference organization and the EduCamp model as employed by Nancy White and Diego Leal).

It is interesting to contrast our approach to ‘open’ with the “logic model” devised by James C. Taylor  and eventually adopted by OERu which preserved the openness of resources and courses, but kept closed access to assessments and credentials.

Such courses are not to my mind ‘open courses’ as a critical part of the course is held back behind a tuition barrier. Exactly the same comment could be made of ‘free’ courses that entail the purchase of a required textbook. Just because some part of a course is free or open does not entail that the course as a whole is free or open, and it is a misrepresentation to assert such.

Why make our courses open? Think of a course as like a language. If a language is closed, it dies. If people are not allowed to speak it, it dies. To enable people to genuinely participate in the culture of a discipline, whether it be physics or chemistry or political science, the content and the materials of the discipline must be open.

There is the danger that a cultural or linguistic group will retreat into itself in the face of this risk. I look, for example, at the state of publishing in communities like Finland or Sweden, and find that open access is very limited, as the publishers imagine that there is no other place for Finnish or Swedish speakers to turn. But they do turn, as we know, to open online content in English.

[slide 5 – online] Online – I have noticed recently the phenomenon of ‘wrapped’ MOOCs, which postulate the use of a MOOC within the context of a traditional location-based course; the material offered by the MOOC is hence ‘wrapped’ with the trappings of a more traditional education. This is the sort of approach to MOOCs which treats them more as modern-day textbooks, rather than as courses in and of themselves.  

But insofar as these wrapped MOOCs are courses, they are no longer online, and insofar as they are online, they are no longer courses. So whatever a ‘wrapped MOOC’ is, it is not a MOOC. It is (at best) a set of resources misleadingly identified as a ‘MOOC’ and then offered (or more typically, sold) as a means to supplement traditional courses.

For a MOOC to be ‘online’ entails that (and I’ll be careful with my wording here) no required element of the course is required to take place at any particular physical location.

The ‘wrapped MOOCs’ are not MOOCs because you cannot attend a wrapped MOOC without attending the in-person course; there will be aspects of the MOOC that are reserved specifically for the people who have (typically) paid tuition and are resident at some college or university, and are physically located at the appropriate campus at the appropriate time. 

Just as being online is what makes it possible for these courses to be both massive and open, being located at a specific place makes the course small and closed.

But this does not mean MOOCs cannot include or allow elements of real-world interaction or activity. Indeed, the best use of a MOOC does entail some offline real-world activity.

For example, our original CCK08 MOOC recommended, but did not require, in-person meet-ups, for example, and these were held at various locations around the world. MOOCs such as ds106 require that a person go out into the world and take photographs (for example).

In any online course there will be a real-world dimension; what makes it an ‘online’ course is that it does not specify a particular real-world dimension. I will talk much more about this in a few minutes.

[slide 6 – course] Course – before we launched our first MOOC both George Siemens and I were involved in various activities related to free and open online learning.

George, for example, had staged a very successful online conference on Connectivism the year before. I had, meanwhile, been running my newsletter service for the educational technology community since 2001. Each of these was in its own way massive, open and online, but they were not courses.

There is obviously some overlap between ‘course’ and ‘conference’ and ‘community’, and people have since suggested that there could be (or should be) massive open online communities of practice  and of course there could – but they are not MOOCs.

There is also some overlap between the concept of the ‘course’ and the ‘course package’, as in, for example, the self-paced self-study online learning packages first distributed on paper (and with audio tapes) by distance education institutions. Here, the overlap is so great, they are often misleadingly called ‘courses’ instead of ‘course packages’.

To be clear: I am very supportive of the idea of massive open online communities, and I am also supportive of the use of course packages, but the MOOC is a different entity, with its own properties and role in the environment. But a course is an event. A community is not and event. A course package is not an event.

And specifically:

             a course is bounded by a start date and an end date

             a course is cohered by some common theme or domain of discourse

             a course is a progression of ordered events related to that domain

Why insist on these? Aside, that is, from the pedantic observation that if you call something a ‘course’ then it ought to have the properties of a course?

My own observation is that the creation of temporary and bounded events allows for engagement between communities that would not normally associate with each other. Courses are a way of, if you will, stirring the pot. By creating a limited and self-contained event we lower the barriers to participation – you’re not signing up for a lifetime commitment – and hence increasing accessibility.

In a sense, the same reason we organize learning into courses is the reason we organize text into books. Yes, simply ‘reading’ is useful and engaging, and widely recommended, but ‘reading a book’ is defined and contained. A person can commit to ‘reading a book’ more easily than to ‘reading’, especially if by ‘reading’ we mean something that never ends.

Hence, massive open online learning that is not bounded, does not cohere around a subject, and is not a progression of ordered events, is not a course, and outside the domain of discourse.



MOOC Pedagogy

[slide 7 – pedagogy] The way we set up a MOOC is to define a six or twelve (or even thirty) week course of readings, each on a different topic, progressing through a domain of enquiry. We also hosted online seminars, many of which featured guest experts from outside the course.

But there the similarity with a traditional course ends. We do not require that people study the readings; these are optional. Rather, what we are saying through this structure is that we, the course authors, will be studying these materials. And people are welcome to come along for the ride.

What is important about a connectivist course is not the course content. Yes, there is some content -- you can't have a conversation without it -- but the content isn't the important thing. It serves merely as a catalyst, a mechanism for getting our projects, discussions and interactions off the ground. It may be useful to some people, but it isn't the end product, and we certainly do not want people to memorize it.

Let me explain why we take this approach.

[slide 8 – neuronsk] Our thesis that knowledge is distributed across a network of connections, and therefore that learning consists of the ability to construct and traverse those networks. Knowledge, therefore, is not acquired, as though it were a thing. It is not transmitted, as though it were some type of communication. You can’t ‘promote’ something simply by assembling course packages and sending them out into the world.

The things we learn and the things we know are literally the connections we form between neurons as a result of experience. The brain is composed of 100 billion neurons, and these form some 100 trillion connections and it is these connections that constitute everything we know, everything we believe, everything we imagine.

And while it is convenient to talk as though knowledge and beliefs are composed of sentences and concepts that we somehow acquire and store, it is more accurate -- and pedagogically more useful -- to treat learning as the formation of connections.

From the perspective of the course, what it means is that the process of taking the course is itself much more important than the content participants may happen to learn in the course. The idea of a connectivist course is that a learner is immersed within a community of practitioners and introduced to ways of doing the sorts of things practitioners do, and through that practice, becomes more similar in act, thought and values to members of that community. To learn physics, in other words, you join a community of physicists, practice physics, and thereby become like a physicist.

[slide 9 – language] It is, indeed, like the learning of a language. It is possible to learn a language in theory, by studying books, as though one would study Latin. But to learn a language fully it is essential to immerse oneself in the day-to-day activities and culture of the people who speak it.

Again, it is tempting to say that there are certain things that people learn when they learn a language, that there is some content that is essential to being a speaker of that language. The meaning of words, for example, or the conjugation of verbs. But this is misleading and wrong.

Dictionary meanings and verb conjugations are, at the very best, an abstraction of the much more complex set of practices, attitudes and beliefs common among physicists. Because it is an abstraction, such a description cannot be accurate, and may actually mislead people about what being a physicist actually entails.

A person who merely knew the content supposedly taught and tested for at a language academy would feel grossly out of place in a gathering of physicists. It's like knowing the words but not knowing the tune.

So what a connectivist course becomes is a community of educators attempting to learn how it is that they learn, with the objective of allowing them to be able to help other people learn. We are all educators, or at least, learning to be educators, creating and promoting the (connective) practice of education by actually practicing it.

In practice connectivist teaching and learning consists of four major sorts of activities (and remember, this is just an abstraction, not a definition; just a starting point, and not 'content' to be remembered):



[slide 10 - aggregate] Aggregation - the point of offering a course at all is to provide a starting point, to provide a variety of things to read, watch or play with. There is a lot of content associated with the course, everything from relatively basic instruction to arguments and discussions to high-level interviews with experts in the field.

The course is composed not only of recommended readings but also articles, videos and recordings made by course facilitators, blog posts, images, videos and other recordings made by course participants, collected tweets from Twitter, bookmarks from Delicious, discussion posts, and whatever else we can think of.

What we have experienced after delivering a half-dozen MOOCs is that we have to tell people at the start of the course to pick and choose what they will read, watch or participate in. Again and again, we have to stress that there is no central content to the course, that each person creates their own perspective on the material by selecting what seems important to them.

Again, if we draw the comparison to learning a language, it is like telling a person to pick and choose from real books, real newspaper articles, and real conversations.

From the perspective of the course provider, what is important at this point is that there actually be a rich range of resources, open and freely accessible, that can be used by course participants. In any course, in any discipline, I am looking for a wide range of resources, and encouraging course participants to do the same.

The key here is diversity. This includes diversity of format: we want texts, videos, animations, games, seminars, and anything else, because people prefer to use different media. But it also includes different languages and perspectives. In any MOOC – and not simply MOOCs designated as French-language, it would be relevant to include French-language resources.

One of the things I have learned in learning more than one language is that each language views the world differently, represents the world differently.

[slide 11 – remix] Remixing - the next step is to draw connections. The idea is to associate the materials (or parts of the materials) with each other, and with materials from elsewhere.

There are different ways to associate materials -- typically we look for some sort of commonality, such as a term, reference, topic or category. Sometimes we look for a fit, as though one thing follows from another. There are no rules to association, and part of learning is to get a feel for what goes with what.

The main point here is to encourage people to keep track of this. We suggest that they keep records on their computers of all the documents they've accessed, perhaps with summaries or evaluations of the material. Or, better yet, they can keep a record online somewhere. That way they will be able to share their content with other people.

In the course we make some specific suggestions:

- Create a blog with Blogger. Go to http://www.blogger.com and create a new blog. Or, if you already have a blog, you can use your existing blog. You can also use Wordpress (http://www.wordpress.com) or any other blogging service. Each time you access some content, create a blog post.

- Create an account with del.icio.us and create a new entry for each piece of content you access.

- Take part in an online discussion. You can, for example, join a Google group and exchange thoughts with other course participants, or use the discussion forum provided in the course's online environment.

- Tweet about the item in Twitter. If you have a Twitter account, post something about the content you've accessed.

- Anything else: you can use any other service on the internet -- Flickr, Second Life, Yahoo Groups, Facebook, YouTube, anything! Use your existing accounts if you want or create a new one especially for this course. The choice is completely yours.

What we are encouraging here especially is a mixing of diverse cultures. We are not trying to create a blend, but to highlight the distinctive perspective offered by each. You can see here that an ideal MOOC requires participation from different societies and different linguistic groups.

People often ask whether there are any French-language MOOCs and French-language learning resources, and this is a fair question. For me, though, the deeper question is whether there is any French-language culture attached to existing courses.

We saw this in our connectivist MOOCs through the activities of the Spanish-speaking community, the ‘connectvistas’, who would organize their own events, in their own language, online and offline, around our open online course. And their perspective became an important part of our online course, and Spanish ideas and culture became a part of the subject matter itself.

[slide 12 – repurpose] Repurposing - we don't want participants to simply repeat what other people have said. Learning is not simply a process of reception and filtering. It is important to create something, to actively participate in the discipline.

This is probably the hardest part of the process, and not everybody will participate at this level (we remind participants, you get out of the course what you put into it; there's no magic here).

But it is important to remember that creativity does not start from scratch. There is this myth that we stare at a blank sheet of paper, and that ideas then spring out of our heads. But it's just a myth. Nobody ever creates something from nothing. That's why we call this section 'repurpose' instead of 'create.'

The materials were aggregated and remixed online are the bricks and mortar that can be used to compose new thoughts and new understandings of the material. What thoughts? What understanding? That is what we are creating in the course.

Repurposing is often a process of translating – taking an idea from one culture and representing it in the forms and idioms of another culture. This may be as simple as translating a block of text into a picture, or as difficult as representing a complex idea in another language.

Part of the reason why I am presenting this talk in French is to learn French, and this process (this is now my fourth French-language presentation) has taught me more than years of classes. But the other part of the reason I am presenting this talk in French is to learn more about the subject of the presentation.

If you're thinking that this isn't really very new educational theory, you're right. It is old. It forms the core of the concept we now call 'apprenticeship', and has been formally described most recently as 'constructionism' by the people like Seymour Papert.

What this isn't is a short cut. People learn through practice, and so this practice forms the core of connectivist pedagogy.

[slide 13 – feed forward] Feeding Forward - We want participants to share their work with other people in the course, and with the world at large. Now to be clear: participants don't have to share. They can work completely in private, not showing anything to anybody. Sharing is and will always be their choice.

And we know, sharing in public is harder. People can see your mistakes. People can see you try things you're not comfortable with. It's hard, and it's sometimes embarrassing.

But it's better. You'll try harder. You'll think more about what you're doing. And you'll get a greater reward -- people will see what you've created and comment on it. Sometimes they will be critical, but more often they will offer support, help and praise.

But even more importantly, it helps others see the learning process, and not just the polished final result. My ambition to speak in public in French, for example, was prompted by a talk given by Doug McLeod to a national conference on learning networks. I could see that something like this can be an important step in mastering a new skill.

You know this, I don’t need to tell you this, but I’ll say it anyway: when you speak or write in your own language, in a public domain, about some topic or discipline, what you are saying is “my language encompasses that discipline.”

It’s not simply that there is a French culture, full stop. It is that French culture encompasses physics, and chemistry, and economy, and even (I’m sorry to say) political science. But more, it is to say that a part of the domains of physics and chemistry and political science are formed from, and informed by, French culture.

The philosophers know this well. Can you imagine philosophy without the contributions of Descartes and Pascal and Camus and Sartre and Derrida? Can you imagine philosophy without the influence of the language on their contributions?



The Purpose of a MOOC

[slide 14 – purpose] Let me return to the idea of using massive open online learning to promote French language and culture.

There is a challenge inherent in the idea of saying the purpose of a MOOC is to promote culture or that the purpose of a MOOC is to promote some idea or concept. It ties into the idea that the purpose of a MOOC is to help someone learn. It is, after all, a course. But purposes are never so easily transparent.

Organizations have multiple motives when they offer MOOCs. Thus Coursera, for example, may want to support learning, but it is also a company that wants to make money at the same time. A cultural organization may want to promote an idea, but it will also have financial needs, and will soon search for business models to sustain its online course.

Organizations offer MOOCs in order to serve other objectives. Cole Camplese at Penn State talks of “providing education and experimentation.” Keith Devlin refers to “the true democratizing of higher education on a global scale.”

But people do not take a MOOC in order to satisfy the purposes of the MOOC provider. A person does not enroll in a Coursera course because he wants Coursera to make money. Nor does a student enroll at Penn State in order to give professors a way to experiment on them.

[slide 15 – learning] It is tempting to say a person takes a course to learn something. But even this can be misleading. Consider what the founders of Coursera say about most students who sign up: “Their intent is to explore, find out something about the content, and move on to something else.”  So says Daphne Koller.

Adding tuition fees changes the dynamic, as does adding credentials at the end of the course. Coursera has learned it can earn money charging for authentication services, which satisfies both its need to make money, and a student’s need for a certificate (though at the expense of no longer being free and open).

Many students would skip the course entirely, and proceed straight to obtaining credentials, as they do when they buy a degree from a degree mill.

It becomes clear through reflection that MOOCs serve numerous purposes, both to those who offer MOOCs, those who provide services, and those who register for or in some way ‘take’ a MOOC.

[slide 16 – connectivism] The original MOOC offered by George Siemens and myself had a very simple purpose at first: to explain ourselves. The topic of ‘connectivism’ had achieved wide currency, and was the subject of the online conference mentioned earlier, and yet remained the subject of considerable debate. What was it? Was it even a theory? Did it even apply to education? Was it founded on real research, or was it simply made up? We believed we had good answers to those questions, and the curriculum was designed to lead participants (and ourselves!) through a clear and articulate answering of them.

As we began to design the course (and in particular, as I began to use the gRSShopper application I had designed to support my website and newsletter) it became clearer to both of us that the purpose of the course was also to serve as an example of connectivism in practice.

After several years of describing the theory we began to feel some obligation to demonstrate it in practice. So the course design gradually began to look less and less like a traditional course, and more like a network, with a wide range of resources connected to each other and to participants. And the course became much less about acquiring content or skills, and much more about making these connections, and learning from what emerged as a result of them.

[slide 17 – participants] The participants in our MOOCs also demonstrated a similarly wide range of motivations.

We had several participants who were in the course for the research opportunities it offered (and people like Jenny Mackness, Frances Bell and Sui Fai John Mak have become voices in their own right in the field).

Others came with the intent to learn about connectivism, to supplement their existing studies in a masters or PhD program.

Others joined in to participate in what they saw as an event, others to make connections and extend their social network (or as it came later to be called, their ‘personal learning network’).

At least one (and maybe others) came with the specific intent of discrediting connectivism (and in passing, to call George and myself “techno-communists”).

Even if we limit our focus to what is putatively the primary function of a course, to teach, it becomes difficult to identify the purpose of a MOOC.

Much has been made of MOOC completion rates, with the suggestion that completion is in some respects tantamount to learning. However, it could be argued that enabling a person to sample a course and withdraw without having lost thousands of dollars of tuition is a success.

Moreover, different people want to learn different things: some about what connectivism is, some, how best to criticize it, some, whether it even makes sense to their own experience. 

[slide 18 – learning] And there are different senses of learning.

In one sense, to ‘learn’ is to acquire some knowledge or skill, and it is this sense of learning that is most often associated with education, and especially formal education.

But there is an equally valid sense of learning, where the objective is to achieve some outcome or complete some task, what Rogers (2006) calls “task-conscious learning”. This sort of task-focused outcome is much more common in informal learning; it is the sort of learning I do, for example, when I dip into Stack Overflow to learn how to set the value of a field before submitting an Ajax form.



[slide 19 – properties] It becomes clear that we cannot assess the purpose of a MOOC qua MOOC by assessing the reasons and motivations of the people taking them, nor even by assessing the reasons and motivations of those offering them.

All that can be said is that the purpose is that it is based on the idea of creating a MOOC. It is based on the idea of creating an open online course designed in such a way as to support a large (or even massive) learning community.

That is, it is the properties of a MOOC, and not the content per se, that make it worth creating.

We do not create a MOOC to send a message; the MOOC is the message. So we would not, for example, create a MOOC in order to support a culture or a community; a MOOC is the culture or community.

A MOOC may be a very good or very poor PR device, may transmit content very well or very poorly, may advance research a lot or not at all, all depending on who is using it, how they are using it, and why.



The MOOC as Community

[slide 20 – habits] Just as a language is more than the words and sentences, and a culture is more than clothing and dances, education is not merely the acquisition of new information and skills.

To become educated in a discipline is to learn the habits, patterns, ways of thinking and ways of thinking characteristic of that discipline.

Although we learn what we learn from personal experience, we usually learn what we learn from other people.

Consequently, learning is a social activity, whether we immerse ourselves into what Etienne Wenger called a community of practice (Wenger, Communities of Practice: Learning, meaning and identity, 1999), learn what Michael Polanyi called tacit knowledge (Polanyi, 1962), and be able to complete, as Thomas Kuhn famously summarized, the problems at the end of the chapter. (Kuhn, 1962)

[slide 21 – social (record)]Learning is a social activity, and that is why the picture of distance learning wherein each person studies from their own home, supported by a personal computer and desk videophone, is wrong.

To be sure, there is room for home study, but people, and especially children, need community as well. It is because of this that MOOCs in the future will emphasize community much more than is perhaps imagined today.

It is the creation of this community, rather than the curation or transmission of any sort of content, that constitutes the core activity of a MOOC. The content is what we call the ‘McGuffin’ – it is an object of interest, that attracts our attention, but which could be anything.

For our discussion it is relevant to focus on two major types of community of significant importance to MOOCs. Both are relevant to MOOCs, but in very different ways. One is the ‘online community’, while the other is the ‘peer community’.

[slide 22 – online community] The online community is what we might call an interest-based communities. They are formed around a topic of interest, a profession, or a domain. They are similar to Etienne Wenger’s ‘communities of practice’, though I think that my own sense of the concept may be wider than Wenger’s.

Interest based communities are collections of people who, although they may be geographically dispersed, share a common location on the internet. This location is created and defined by the shared interest people have with each other.

Now, to be clear: this shared interest may have to do with an offline interest. Indeed, most of them are. So online communities form around offline activities such as hockey or baseball, real-world pursuits such as business or biology, around hobbies and crafts, and even around a town, village or high school.

We see these everywhere. Gardeners hang out at gardenweb. Computer geeks hang out at Wired. Educational technologists have found a home in the Google+ Ed Tech group. Across the internet, thousands of topic-specific communities have been formed, some around websites, some in social networking services, some using tools like WordPress or Skype.

With today’s focus on MOOCs and social networking sites (such as Facebook and Google+) the discussion of community per se has faded to the background. This perhaps resembles the way corresponding community networks have been swallowed and anonymized by these branded commercial services.

Online educators will find themselves building interest based communities whether they intend to do this or not, because the mechanics necessary for the creation of an online topic based community are present in the structure of almost any online course.

In order to create a online based community, one only needs a topic, a group of geographically dispersed people interested in that topic, and a means of shared communication, such as a discussion list or online chat.

What will change in the future is that online educators will better learn how to foster and nourish online communities.  They will want to do this because, the greater the dedication to the community, the greater the dedication to learning, since learning is the shared experience which defines this community.

This is what connectivism brings to the table. This is what MOOCs bring to the table.

[slide 23 – community of practice] The factors which contribute to a successful online community are to some degree known, though that said much more empirical data needs to be collected. But in general, one of the keys is ownership. By that, what I mean is that the members of the community play a key role in shaping the community. For a community is not a broadcast medium.

It is not a place where the organizer provides material and the members consume it. It is a shared and constructed environment, where the members along with the organizers play roughly equal roles in content creation.

Wenger’s characterization is informative. Communities form around a topic of interest – the ‘domain’. They engage in community activities – as he says, “members engage in joint activities and discussions, help each other, and share information.” And they share a practice – a repertoire of resources, a vocabulary, common stories, common methodologies, common ways of approaching a problem. (Wenger, Communities of practice: a brief introduction, 2004)

Learning in the community of practice takes the form of what might be called ‘peer-to-peer professional development activities’. Rather than formalized learning, members help each other directly. We discovered this in Alberta when we studies how professional town managers learn: we discovered they call each other up on the telephone. (Stefanick & Lesage Jr., 2005)

In an educational context, what this means is that a lot of the learning - and learning materials - will be those constructed by the students themselves. We begin to see this with the use of discussion lists in online courses, but also in the creation of topic-based web pages (and other resources).

MOOCs – at least the way we create MOOCs – build on this. The MOOC is for us a device created in order to connect these distributed voices together, not to create community, not to create culture, but to create a place where community and culture can flourish,

[slide 24 – community] The peer community by contrast almost by definition cannot be formed over the internet. These are the communities that form in our neighborhoods, at church or schools, or in the community centre, the tavern or the grocery store.

They will exist because people need a pat on the back, a (physical) shoulder to lean on, a drinking buddy, an opponent to play squash, somebody whose physical presence, for one reason or another, matters.

And they need a physical environment, which may include sports facilities, an industrial arts shop, a gym, a golf course, or even just a field with four bases and a baseball or flat sheet of ice and a puck.

They are first created through proximity, being composed of people who live in the same neighborhood or who go to the same school. Over the longer term, we may say, they are just people who meet by happenstance, and find an affinity for each other.

While online communities depend on a topic or area of interest to exist, peer communities can be topic neutral; even if members share an interest in sports or science, it is physical proximity which causes the community to exist.

[slide 25 – playing] While online communities are topic-based, peer communities are activity based. An online community may convene to talk hockey, while a peer community will convene to play hockey. Online community may consist of your friends. Peer community consists of your neighbours.

This creates great variety in membership. One person may be a scientist while another may be an artist. While online communities consist of geographically dispersed members, peer based learning communities exist in some particular geographical location.

A peer learning community will be that group of people attending a particular school or learning centre. People become members of the community because of a shared location, workplace, cultural background, religion, or language, and because of shared experiences in online learning.

While people in a topic based community, for example, will discuss this or that monograph or expert in the topic, people in a peer based learning community will discuss this or that institution, interface software, or community events.

Peer learning communities are vital to learning because they provide a safe environment in which to learn. A person does not feel adrift on the internet when working in a community of people facing similar needs and challenges. Though each may be pursuing a different educational goal, their overall objective and means of travel is the same, and thus they offer mutual support, encouragement, and reassurance.

[slide 26 – philosophy] At university I may have studied philosophy, but like so many other university students I obtained my real education through social interaction. In my case, it was at the offices of the Gauntlet, the student newspaper, where I spent more time than I ever did in the classroom.

My most direct interaction with peer learning communities as an educator came when I was working in the Canadian north - the learning centre in Fort St. John, in northern British Columbia, or the fishers' retraining centre, a block away from the urban aboriginal training centre, fostered by the New Westminster School Division. The Sunrise Project, based in Slave Lake, Alberta. Or the South West Indian Training centres in Sioux Valley and Waywayseecappo, in rural Manitoba.

It is the sort of success that was replicated across the country with the Community Access Points. This was a project that did more than merely provide internet access, it created a common location for people interesting in technology and computers (and blogs and Facebook).

People talk of ‘learning communities’ but strictly speaking there is no such thing as a ‘learning community’ – save, perhaps, the strained and artificial creations of educational institutions that try to cram classes into collectives, creating personal relationships where none naturally exist.

Rather, people learn in communities, and what would make any given community a ‘learning’ community or otherwise is whether people in the community learn more or less well. A francophone contribution would consist of both support for online community as well as support for peer community.

[slide 27 – grow (butterfly)] It should be a truism today that communities are grown rather than constructed. Sharing and learning cannot be “legislated into existence.” (Dube, Bourhis, & Jacob, 2006) The desire for autonomy comes part and parcel with some of the perceived benefits of learning and growing in a community: safely, security, and privacy.

In the field of learning especially, there is a great deal of attention paid to what it is members have in common that facilitates the creation of a community – whether it be common educational needs, common age or locale, common sets of values, or even more theoretical entities, such as common objects, domains of discourse, or understandings.

The value of a community, however, and especially of a learning community, comes from the diversity in the community. Students gather around an instructor precisely because the instructor has knowledge, beliefs and opinions that the students don’t share.

They gather around each other because they each have unique experiences. Fostering a learning community is as much a matter of drawing on the differences as it is a matter of underlining the similarities.

Threats and Opportunities

[slide 28 – global (fish)] There is both risk and opportunity in this model for specific cultural and linguistic groups such as the francophone community.

Provider institutions may be located anywhere. MOOCs serve a global audience. We are seeing this trend develop already. Even today, I see course announcements posted almost daily, on new MOOCs rather from individual universities or via EdX or Coursera. It is now possible to take a course on almost anything from almost anywhere in the world.

The risk is of course the same as is created by any mass media, that the largest culture will come to dominate social and political institutions by weight of number and prevalence on mass media. And this is in fact what we have seen in the area of MOOCs. The language of instruction has been until recent years almost exclusively English.

[slide 29 – francophone] One of the few francophone MOOCs, and probably the best-known, was the MooC ITyPA (Internet : Tout Y est Pour Apprendre) offered predominately through l’École Centrale de Nantes (http://www.itypa.mooc.fr/node/29) and Thot Cursus (www.cursus.edu), a french-speaking website dedicated to education and digital culture.

Another francophone MOOC was the recently completed "ABC Gestion de Projet". http://www.educavox.fr/innovation/pedagogie/article/quatre-semaines-dans-un-mooc

The School of Law at the Sorbonne is offering a MOOC called « Sorbonne droit » on the mechanisms of organization and operation of businesses, a six week course starting in September. http://www.e-cavej.org/5/73/le-cavej-mooc-sorbonne-droit.html

The only university currently offering MOOC in French through Coursera is the Ecole polythechnique fédérale de Lausanne.   The course introduces students to Java programming in French.  (www.coursera.org/epfl).

With my colleagues at the University of Moncton, I will be participating in the creation of a french-language MOOC on Open Educational Resources, to be offered in cooperation with the OIF, next fall.

Francophone peer communities active in global MOOCs ensure that even in Anglophone MOOCs, a francophone community and contribution is present. But potential students are now faced with a wide range of open online educational opportunities. My own web site, mooc.ca, lists hundreds, maybe thousands, of open online courses.

It is not enough to offer courses and programs online in French, in my opinion. The French language and culture belongs in all courses and communities, even those that are predominately English.

[slide 30 – mosaic] The MOOCs George Siemens and I have designed and developed were explicitly designed to support participation from a mosaic of cultures. Other, more traditional, MOOCs make it more difficult, but the key to participation in these is to convert a static one-language presentation-mode course into a thriving multilingual and multicultural community.

We see this more widely in other online courses through the ‘meet-up’. A good example of this is the Denver Francophone Group. http://www.meetup.com/The-Denver-Francophone-Group/ Or the Austin French meetup club. http://www.meetup.com/austinfrenchlanguageclub/

It seems so little. What is being done to support these groups? What resources are available, what online courses in the French language?

Why is this important, particularly in the context of fostering language and culture?

It is worth noting that theorists of both professional and social networks speak of one’s interactions within the community as a process of building, or creating, one’s own identity.

Wenger, for example, writes, “Having a sense of identity is a crucial aspect of learning in organizations. Consider the annual computer drop at a semiconductor company that designs both analog and digital circuits. The computer drop became a ritual by which the analog community asserted its identity. Once a year, their hero would climb the highest building on the company's campus and drop a computer, to the great satisfaction of his peers in the analog gang. The corporate world is full of these displays of identity, which manifest themselves in the jargon people use, the clothes they wear, and the remarks they make.” (Wenger, 1998)

[slide 31 – identity] And meanwhile, danah boyd, studying the social community, writes, “The dynamics of identity production play out visibly on MySpace. Profiles are digital bodies, public displays of identity where people can explore impression management. Because the digital world requires people to write themselves into being, profiles provide an opportunity to craft the intended expression through language, imagery and media. Explicit reaction to their online presence offers valuable feedback. The goal is to look cool and receive peer validation. Of course, because imagery can be staged, it is often difficult to tell if photos are a representation of behaviors or a re-presentation of them.” (boyd, 2006)

In both of these we are seeing aspects of the same phenomenon. To learn is not to acquire or to accumulate, but rather, to develop or to grow. The process of learning is a process of becoming, a process of developing one’s own self.

We have defined three domains of learning: the individual learner, the online community, and the peer community.

Recent discussions of MOOCs have focused almost exclusively on the online community, with almost no discussion of the individual learner, and no discussion peer community. But to my mind over time all three elements will be seen to be equally important.

At university, I became not so much a philosopher, though that was my formal education, but rather, a journalist, which is the community I became a part of.

[slide 32 – immerse] MOOCs are communities in which learners can immerse themselves and grow into something new. Previous experience suggests that these will be places where they can create and where they can project – not “serious games” but “modding communities”, not “reading groups” but “fan fiction”, not “educational simulations” but “LAN parties”.

We might also define three key roles in online learning: the student, the instructor, and the facilitator. The ‘instructor’ is the person responsible for the online community, while the ‘facilitator’ is the person responsible for the peer community.

Of course, the ‘instructor’ and the ‘facilitator’ are abstracts. We think of them as one person, but in fact these roles are fulfilled by teams of people working together to orchestrate the experience of community.

The talk of ‘star instructors’ without reference to the wider facilitation is as nonsensical as talking about ‘movie stars’ as being the entire film industry, without regard to directors, camera operators, distributors and movie theatre managers.

The ‘star’ is yet another McGuffin – of no great importance, but some candy designed to attract us to the event.

In traditional education, the two communities exist as a single entity. The same institution which produces the online instruction is also the institution attended by the student. For example, if I say I am taking a course from the University of Calgary, what I mean is that the course instruction is being delivered by the University of Calgary, and also that the University of Calgary provides the facilities where I receive that course instruction.

[slide 33 – provider] In the future, host and provider institutions will increasingly be different institutions. One example of this is course brokering, wherein the course I am taking may have been developed by, and even instructed by, a University of Calgary instructor, but is being delivered at Red Deer College. Thus, when I take the course, I use Red Deer's classrooms, computers, and facilities even though the course is a University of Calgary course.

The recent MOOCs offered by companies like Coursera and Udacity have commercialized course brokering. They take a course offered by one university and make it available to other institutions to host in on-campus peer communities.

Of course, this is a model that the K-12 community has employed for any number of years. It is common to see a single course taught from one location and delivered to other locations by means such as video conferencing and interactive environments.

And, one would expect the same phenomenon to extend into the French-language community, to see local support offered in French-language communities for participation in online courses offered in a variety of languages at a variety of locations around the world.

So, things are changing. The francophone world is taking up the potential of MOOCs. http://cursus.edu/dossiers-articles/articles/19487/2013-annee-des-moocs-francais/

We read from people like Mario Asselin a call for open online French-language learning. http://quebec.huffingtonpost.ca/mario-asselin/gratuite-universite_b_2475352.html?just_reloaded=1

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[slide 34 – discourse] But I would ask, with equal relevance, where is the French-language community itself? Where will I see the French-language contribution to physics and philosophy, botany and political science? It will not be enough simply to author content and offer courses. The place for French is in the middle of these domains, in discourse and discussion on a global stage.

Yes, content and courses are necessary. But what is needed more than anything is French-language participation in the discourse itself, that idea that, for any online course, any online community, the French culture and language has a place there, belongs there, and is necessarily a part of that course and that community.