Stephen Downes

Readers understand, I think, that I endorse pluralism, and I think this is a good overview of what the concept means: "We understand pluralism as resting on two core pillars of reciprocal recognition and belonging: Reciprocal recognition means acknowledging the dignity, experiences and contributions of different groups in society. Belonging goes further than individual feelings of inclusion; it also means being meaningfully recognized within institutions and having real opportunities to shape collective life." I was thinking of that this week when reading In Education, for example, Jennifer MacDonald's review of Leddy and Miller's (2024) Teaching Where You Are: Weaving Indigenous and Slow Principles and Pedagogies (sadly behind a paywall). There's a skill - and it's hard, I think - to find that line between respecting values and feeling obligated to endorse those values as principles that guide one's own life. 

As is well known, writes Colin Beer, there are two typoes of authority: that derived from expertise, and that derived from authority. It is ironic, then, that universities, which produce the former, are governed so often by the latter. Consequently, Beer advocates in this post for what Gary L. Anderson calls democratic professionalism, "which is neither passive compliance nor open conflict, but a persistent insistence on the value of expertise through the quality and visibility of the work itself." He adds, "For me, the irony here is not that there is a tension between authority and expertise, but that institutions capable of producing entire fields of knowledge aren't terribly good at eating their own dog food.

Martin Weller reflects on how his retirement is going (well, from the sound of it) so I may as well reflect for a moment on mine. I've settled into a bit of a routine - wake up when I want (yay!), spend time reading and writing posts, work on my CList application, and get out for bike rides. I worry most about money (because I'm a pensioner now) and am paying more attention to my health (which typically took a back seat when I had a day job). I have a 'consultancy business' with no current clients, but I can't bring myself to do the LinkedIn song and dance it would take to make that work. But that's OK. I still feel deeply engaged in my work, which always was, for me, my hobby. 

"I am cool with a lot of cognitive surrender," writes Ethan Mollick. "I don't remember phone numbers anymore because my phone does that for me. I am happy my kids didn't need to learn cursive. I am fine with calculators doing my daily math and my computer figuring out how to schedule my classes. These were once useful skills, but we were probably right to get rid of them." But we need to be intentional about this, and we need to continue the work that sharpens our ideas and defines our own unique style (which is why I write all these posts by hand, with no AI interaction). It's not that AI writing is bad, per se, but that when badly prompted, it's not sharp or clear or intentional. "Balancing using AI with our own mental abilities is going to be a defining challenge of the coming years," says Mollick. I agree.

I think Mike Taylor is on the right track here as he reframes what we're talking aboiut when we talk about attention. The most important thing is that there isn't some predefined attention span (equal to that of a goldfish or whatever). A moment's reflection will prove this. When I race my bicycle down a hill, my attention doesn't waver or run out of 'span'. Attention is something that starts and stops as a result of a decision, and this decision can be prompted. Taylor credits John Keller's model - Attention, Relevance, Confidence, Satisfaction (ARCS) - but of course it's also the first item in Gagne's nine events. Where Taylor is wrong, I think, is in drawing an analogy between attention and money. Try, the language of capital infuses our vocabulary, so we 'pay money' and 'pay attention', but attention is not a type of "rational economics". It's messy and complex, emotion-driven and context-sensitive, just like everything else human (except a banker's heart).

It's just coincidence (probably) that this article comes out at the same time as the SSIR article I also posted about today on the link between education and democracy. Here's how it's phrased here, in this interview with Elizabeth Dowdeswell, the 29th Lieutenant Governor of Ontario: "A well-functioning democracy is built upon foundational and strong institutions: the government and its supportive public service; a respected and independent judiciary; a dynamic media; and a vibrant, informed, and involved civil society. At the core is education, because education is empowerment." Most of what is said here is well thought-out and reasonable. I find myself asking, though, where in education do we find democracy? Dowdeswell talks about ethical responsibility, learned behaviour, respect and civility. All fine things, but there is a danger that education presses too hard to instill these social virtues, at the expense of the autonomy and agency of the individual learner.