I was in the hospital with my new son one night a few weeks when I saw that one of the authors of Disrupting Class, Michael Horn, replied to my previous blog posting. My son is three weeks today; his father finally has a chance to reply to Horn. Horn wrote a comment to my posting that begins:
Thanks for your thoughtful post and thanks for pointing out a mistake in the book that we should remedy in an end note to Chapter 7. I appreciate that. That’s a good catch. I don’t think it destroys the fundamental point behind the chapter–which, by the way, could be applied even more so in critiquing the majority of business research (a good book on this point that I recommend highly is The Halo Effect). Clearly there is some good education research out there, but the majority that finds its way into policy debates stays at a correlation level–or does not get translated in a way that understands the environment in which teachers practice. Even randomized-control trials do not ask the next question (a similar phenomenon plagues health care).
While I appreciated the kudos, a “good catch” does not adequately respond to my point. Even Horn’s later series of rebuttals do nothing more than dodge the core of the critique. At the heart of the posting is the concern that the authors of Disrupting Class knowingly misrepresent and dismiss research and scholarship in the field of education. As a result, the Disruption Theory they create is inherently groundless. Though it is compelling–no one would argue that the book has had great effects on education policy and reform–it neglects to seriously consider what is going on in actual schools with actual students, and it doesn’t consider what experts in education have to say about those realities.
I agree with Horn that much of educational research doesn’t prove causal relationships (if you do X students will ace their exams). But that doesn’t mean you disregard it completely. The weakness of Disrupting Class‘s stance toward educational research is that it finds value only in the answers to questions, not the questions themselves. What questions would have been raised in their book if the authors had seriously considered educational research? What questions, then, would policy-makers and educational leadership have asked? Questions, after all, are far more disruptive.
Here’s an example. One of the gaps I point out is that the authors make “the hasty assumption that adolescents’ use of technology means they can simply learn from it.” Horn replied to this critique (which was the third in a list) that “we pointedly don’t rely on point #3 that you cite. Others write about this, but we ourselves don’t hinge our argument on this point.” I’m sorry, but Horn and his colleagues pointedly do rely on students’ use of technology to learn. If you remove students-using-technology-to-learn from Disrupting Class there is no book. Who uses the online courses they speak of? How do the authors imagine students sharing content they create? And let’s not ignore the fact that not all students learn well in online courses; not all students have any interest or natural skill in posting materials for classmates to learn from.
If the authors had consulted–just as one example–Donald Leu’s study in which he compares students’ offline and online literacy skills they might have disclaimed that research shows students’ offline and online literacy abilities have no direct relationship. Great online readers might be shoddy offline readers. And vice versa. If they had considered even just studies that compare students online and offline lives, they might have explored certain realities of applying their theory to a school system: not all students are digitally literate; students’ social digital literacies don’t simply apply to online schoolwork; not all traditionally successful students’ talents translate to the online world; not all students even have equitable access to online worlds and therefore to those crucial online skills.
The above response, I might add, says nothing about the authors’ disregard for the roles of teachers in student-learning. While they do compliment educators for their hard work, they don’t seriously consider what it means, for instance, to disrupt teacher education using their framework. Nor do they consider the setbacks and advances being made in the professional development of educators. Their solution is to take a master teacher like Jaime Escalante and broadcast him to as many students as possible. I wonder what kind of relationship Escalante would form with his students in such a scenario. After all, wasn’t it his ability to connect with his classes that made his success possible?
In sum, we need a real series of exchanges in which the educational research community dialogues with the authors of Disrupting Class. Ideally, there would be a think tank in which some organization (a university, consulting group, a city) would invite the book’s authors and an array of educational scholars to the same table to talk about ways to ground so influential a book. The authors of the book might dismiss educational research, but researchers are also quick to categorically dismiss the book. Disrupting Class has been incredibly influential and is shaping education reform around the world. Scholars who ignore that simple truth are too tangled in their own academic robes to see that real principals, teachers, students, and parents are and will be affected by this book. Time to disrobe, if need be, and to seriously consider what it means to disrupt.
NB: There are other critiques of the book as well. One especially thoughtful review is by John Sener.