I came across Staying in the Game, a report based on the idea of learner profiles, in Jeremy Hunsinger's Educause blog (thanks, Jeremy). But I don't like it. Steam came from my ears as I read it. Here's why.
Learner profiles and "learning styles" are a perennial flavour of the month in ed tech circles. They appeal to practitioners because they appear to offer concrete insights, applications, and "common sense" pedagogy (in this instance, "How to create environments for Boomers and Gamers in your library"). And they appeal because they appear authoritative: they claim to offer a "theory of learning".
What they actually offer is less a theory of learning than a caricature of learners, but we'll come to that.
Learner profiles can appear reassuring to people with a programming or technical background, because they appear similar to some of the needs analysis or evaluation techniques that are commonly used in HCI work and interface testing. And, yes, some similarities do exist -- mostly in terms of social science methodologies and perspectives. But there is a key difference between, say, the use of "personas" for HCI testing and learner profiles: the former offers a snapshot of behaviour, while the latter offers (or purports to offer) an interpretation of what's going on, on the inside.
Practitioners' desire for practical hints and tips -- things they can apply straight away -- is totally understandable. After all, it fits with the way we all do learning and CPD now -- on the fly, "just-in-time", in the five-minute gap while the office kettle boils. The Educause Guides fill this gap, as do the old LTSN "cookbooks" (Learning and Teaching Subject Network -- now the HE Academy) in the UK.
And this approach to professional development is justified by the value we place in self-improvement, and of course, by the care ethics of teaching. We all believe (don't we?) that we ought to want to improve the way we teach; to improve the way we communicate with colleagues; to improve our personal productivity.
But sometimes we get it wrong. Sometimes, the short-cuts we come up with don't actually benefit our students or colleagues -- they short-change them.
Learning is a mystery; it's a black box. First, because researchers can't agree on "what" learning is (neurophysiological? social? psychological?), second because they can't even agree "where" it occurs (in the teacher-student relationship? in the classroom? in the student's head?).
It follows that any theory of learning is pretty much like alchemy: it promises something glittering and elusive. Learner profiles and so-called "learning styles" are supposed to give a picture of "how we act", yes, but they are also supposed to explain psychological tendencies, aptitudes, orientations, and beliefs. But there is very little research that offers solid empirical evidence for favouring one of these approaches over another. Last year, a major research report on learning styles by the UK's Learning and Skills Research Centre concluded by endorsing Curry's summary statement: "researchers and users alike will continue groping like the five blind men in the fable about the elephant, each with a part of the whole but none with full understanding". Why should we base our pedagogy on a series of ill-supported claims?
My final point is that, even if there is some truth to the theory of learning styles, its implications for pedagogy are far from clear. Do we enhance student learning by re-creating the environments and techniques that students already comfortable with? Or do we attempt to extend students' competencies, exposing them to new knowledge and new experiences? Do we reinforce existing behaviour, or create opportunities for growth?
My problem with the proponents of Boomers, Gamers, Net Generation Learners and their ilk is not that they're making a lot of money from something that smells like snake oil. The problem occurs when we view their theories as a pedagogical solution, rather than a starting-point.
