Education technology researcher Audrey Watters has a peculiar fascination with pigeons and their behaviour. The common domestic birds appear regularly in her popular education technology review Blog, Hack Education, and one adorns the flyleaf of her searing and insightful new book, Teaching Machines: The History of Personalized Learning. That affectation is inspired by none other than the infamous Harvard psychology professor B.F. Skinner, his “teaching machine,” and lab experiments with pigeons.
Skinner and his experiments with pigeons, some of which he trained to play ping-pong, provide Watters with an ingenious way of conveying the hidden dangers associated with early teaching machines and their contemporary successors, personal computers. While at Harvard in the 1950s, Skinner was a leading proponent of behaviorism, a school of psychological thought now in disfavour. The foundation for early forms of education technology, such as Skinner’s mechanical teaching device, she points out, was to give students – just like his pigeons—positive reinforcement so that students, again like pigeons, would learn new skills.
Watters provides a very thorough, impeccably researched look at Skinner and his role in the launch of ‘Didak 101’ to teach spelling and his repeated, mostly futile, attempts to promote the widespread adoption of early teaching machines. She is particularly effective in demonstrating how the media shapes people’s perceptions of such inventions and raises public awareness of the psychological theories underpinning the latest ‘tech toys.’ Adopting a broader societal approach, the author analyzes the machines in the context of education reform, particularly the global impact of Sputnik in the 1950s, the explosion of the textbook industry, and the advent of every-student assessment.
Skinner claimed that his teaching machines allowed students to learn at their own pace, a cardinal principle of today’s “personalized learning.” Yet Watters’ research and writing demonstrates its unintended effects. By their design and operation, such devices (much like contemporary ed tech) not only limit what students learn but lead to the standardization of the teaching and learning process. More profoundly, while behaviorism (i.e., animal behaviour training and operant conditioning) is considered passe, it continues to inform and influence a new generation of education technology.
Watters’ much-anticipated and long-in-the- making book fills a gaping hole in our understanding of the origin and implementation of education technology. Her earlier writings, including the four-part “Monsters of Education Technology” series and regular barbed online commentaries earned her a reputation as “ed-tech’s Cassandra.” This major piece of work will establish her as the foremost public intellectual and independent scholar in the field.
Reviewer Peter Greene hit the nail on the head in his recent Forbes Magazine assessment. It’s an amazing accomplishment when a single, compact and readable book manages to “connect the dots” as well as “bridge the gaps between history, technology and education.” The book also provides plenty of evidence in support of the recent work of American education technology critic Justin Reich, exemplified in his 2020 book, Failure to Disrupt, excoriating ed-tech hype and demonstrating why more recent technological marvels will not transform education.
The founder of Khan Academy, Salman Kahn, author of the 2012 best-seller The One World Schoolhouse: Education Reimagined, provides a convenient foil for Watters because he demonstrates a deeply flawed grasp of the evolution of teaching and learning. Like many others, including the late Sir Ken Robinson, he perpetuates the ingrained mythology that the American and Canadian education system remained “static” or unchanged from the late 1890s onward for over a hundred years. While the invention of the Internet had an impact, the ed-tech and classroom apps of today are more of a continuation of inventions and trends going back as far as the 1920s, to the days of Sidney Pressey and the earliest teaching machine pioneers.
The prevailing assumptions and fallacies perpetuated by education technology evangelists and high-tech corporate business executives come in for some telling and deadly accurate analysis. Most know little or nothing about history and base their decisions on often faulty perceptions. Whether they fully understand the context or not, they simply proceed to build ed tech products, promulgate policies, and predict the future based upon such “futuristic” visions. They do use history “willy-nilly,” as American education historian David Tyack wisely observed. Watters’ book will go a long way to setting the record straight.
Teaching machines matter in education and that’s why Watters’ book is such a welcome addition to a field well-stocked with titles extolling the virtues of ed-tech and heralding the imminent arrival of ‘the next big thing.’ Technological innovations from the early teaching machines to now are interwoven into the evolution of modern school systems as well as classroom teaching and learning practices. That’s where the book excels – in helping us to understand the technocratic culture that dominates K-12 education.
Teaching machines, as Watters amply demonstrates, are not just ‘flashes in the pan’ but harbingers of successive changes in the ‘warp and woof’ of systems and classroom culture. “Their ongoing influence,” she contends, is embedded in the contemporary push for both “personalized technologies and behavioral engineering” in the schools. The real legacy of a succession of machines lies precisely, in her words, in “the technocratic culture that they helped engender in education.”
Why is the history of teaching machines littered with failed experiments? What motivated B.F. Skinner and the early inventors of teaching machines? Why did his early teaching machine take the educational world of the 1950s by storm? Whatever happened to the curricular mutation known as “programmed learning” popular in the 1970s? Will machines and apps programmed to provide “personalized learning” ever displace humans in the classroom?