Saturday, 21 May 2016

Does the Knowledge Economy kill Knowledge?

The 'knowledge economy' is one of the principal ideologies of our time. The idea that the contents of one's head is the determiner of both personal and societal success is not new. But what is new is the process of putting a price on it. And the idea of the knowledge economy is not about ideas themselves, but on the price of ideas. It is a moment in a process of financialisation.

Financialisation works by identifying observable transactions in society - regularities of communication - which can have costs attached, companies created, and which can then be used as an institutional or corporate foundation for raising finance. Technologies have greatly assisted in the financialising process because they have taken large-scale social functions and carved them up into individual transactions supported by a kind of interconnecting logic. It is by this means that one might take the operation of a railway and identify common transactions with regard to the maintenance of the track, the scheduling of services, the selling of tickets and cups of coffee, and each pattern of transactions can then be identified with a separate financial entity, whose purpose is to make a profit, and each component become dependent on financial services to support its operation, and which eventually becomes driven by financial services in the manner of its operation. What happens in this process is that there are aspects to the original services which were not exposed in observable regularities of transactions. In the financialisation process, these hidden aspects of human engagement get left out. The result is social pathology where the functioning of the financial instruments becomes the paramount concern, blotting out insecurity, low wages, alienation, and the broader ecological and social impact of the financialised transformation. What is lost in the process of financialisation is knowledge. It is this fact which makes the knowledge economy so problematic.

The knowledge economy is the financialisation of the transactions of education. It involves the transactions of patents, policies, academic publishers, league tables of universities, student finance, modules, learning outcomes, and vast arrays of statistics which claim to measure the 'performance' of institutions, subjects, individuals, and governments. The key question is How does knowledge relate to the transactions of education? What is the relationship between the contents of peoples' heads and the semantic contents of academic papers?

Financialisation in education has produced a hunger for publication in education. This is become one of the principal means by which the status of academics and institutions is assessed. "Publish or perish" is produced by the financialisation of education. Consequently, the number of journals has increased, but the variety of papers has not increased. Coherent intellectual positions have been replaced with academics declaring numerous "turns": the ontological turn, the embodiment turn, the sociomaterial turn, and so on. Each hopes that their "turn" will be the one that everyone will follow. In short, everyone is trying to sell their ideas. Is this knowledge or madness?

The internal dynamics of universities beholden to financialisation help to explain the 'turn phenomenon'. Fundamentally, all university managements have become the same. It's a process which DiMaggio and Powell call "institutional isomorphism", and the rest of us call "managerialism". If all university management is the same, why do we have so many universities? Do we need so much redundancy of management function?

University managers understand the logic, and how the professionalisation of themselves ought to spell the end of most of them. So whilst there is institutional isomorphism at the top of institutions, each management must ensure that the productions of the university are distinct and diverse. This cannot be done in teaching: universities are generally the same in their pedagogic practices and methods of assessment. It might be done by their intake - some institutions are very exclusive, whilst other let anyone in - to the point that questions are asked about the value they provide. All institutions are able to declare the 'scarcity' of knowledge (and thus maintain the price of a degree) because they are the gatekeepers to degree certificates. But by maintaining distinction in the academic transactions of the institution, a claim can be made for the independent existence of a particular university above other institutions which do pretty much the same thing. So it is not the thoughts in individual minds that count - it is diverse production of measurable academic transactions.

However, the constraints of the market bear upon all functions within the institution. Unpopular courses - like philosophy or sociology - get closed and academics lose their jobs. As a result, tranches of intellectual territory are lost. It's like cutting down swathes of the rain forest. To make up for this loss of richness, new subject areas emerge more consistent with the popular courses that students study. But these new disciplines do not possess the intellectual richness of those which they replaced. Dumbing-down is a symptom of attempting to maintain the appearance of diversity of discourse whilst destroying substantive chunks of knowledge on economic grounds. More than this, full-time academics find themselves under pressure because of relatively high salaries. The commodification of educational delivery mean that they are eventually replaced with adjunct teachers whose function is merely to follow the institutional teaching regulations, and who have no remit or power to think for themselves.

So the  knowledge economy leads to the destruction of knowledge. There is a deeper question here about the role of knowledge in any economy. The rhetoric of the knowledge economy sees universities as the hub of innovation. This is rarely the case. The most fundamental innovations which have changed our lives - particularly in technology - emerged outside the university, or at least on its fringes. Innovation emerges at the interface between critique, technological playfulness, and reflection on individual experience. It emerges through reading Goethe whilst playing with a quantum computer. The tragedy of the knowledge economy is that its ideology is leading to an environment where this can no longer take place.

Monday, 16 May 2016

Institutions, Democracy and Brexit

Most elections do not ask people to vote for an institution. Institutions are not borne out of democratic voting: they emerge through the exercise of social positions, rights, responsibilities and obligations in daily life. Voting is such an exercise - but we vote primarily to re-assert our right to throw our rulers out of office if we don't like them - even if we vote to preserve the status quo.

What if we were having a referendum on the future of the BBC? Would any government call such a thing? I doubt it. The future of the BBC would be determined by government policy. If we didn't like the policy, we would resolve to throw the government out. This is really how our relationship with the EU should be handled. But for internal political troubles within the government, it has been forced to hold a referendum. What will the people do? I think it's obvious. They will re-assert their right to throw the leaders out of office (even if they like them) because that is what voting is really about. They will vote for Brexit.

If there's one thing that the EU vote, the selection of Donald Trump to run for president, the election of Jeremy Corbyn, or the appeal of Bernie Sanders have in common is that they all have arisen by people asserting their democratic right to kick people they don't like. If there's a critical mistake the establishment has made it is that they have forgotten what voting is. It is not a statistical game like the X-factor that (in the end) maintains the centre ground and upholds the existing institutions of government. People vote to assert their right to vote and it is because that right is upheld by the institutions of government that its very unusual for anything more radical than a minor change of leadership ever results.

The EU was never democratic in this way. In EU elections, people voted to assert a right to send a signal to their national government, not to elect a European Parliament: they didn't need another parliament because their right to determine their future was adequately upheld by their national government. European democracy was fake democracy, and European voting was a distortion of voting. Moreover, fake democracy is usually some kind of cover for doing something against the interests of the people, but claiming that the people have just voted for it.

Perhaps all referenda are 'fake democracy' like this: a way of slipping-in undemocratic manoeuvres all the time claiming a mandate for doing so. They protect the government of the day from taking the full consequences of the serious decisions they are elected to take. We start wars without referenda, and governments bear the consequences. Why have a referendum to leave the EU if not to stop the Tory party tear itself apart?

The interesting thing about this vote is that although it is 'fake democracy', its consequences will destabilise Europe: not least, because it will call the bluff of the establishment who believed the exercise of democracy was there to support the institutions which they created. True democratic institutions do not come into being like this.

Saturday, 14 May 2016

Emotion, Embodiment and Logic (and Learning Analytics?)

I've had a busy week running a conference on Emotion and Embodiment at my University. It was great fun - although to be honest I'm not sure we're any the wiser about emotion and embodiment (but I'd guessed that would be the case). Tony Lawson's contribution at the end pinpointed the central difficulty: fundamentally, the raising of issues of embodiment and emotion were a response to the deficiency of an academic discourse dominated by post-structuralism. Post-stucturalism, he argues (I think) is simply wrong, and its wrongness leads to discursive developments which only add to intellectual confusion. I'm sympathetic to this. Similar arguments can be made for the current popular obsession with sociomateriality in educational research. The alternative - realism - by its nature orients itself around real embodied existence. My only quibble here is that I think we cannot know whether what is real is cause or constraint - and it makes a difference which we settle on. Lawson focuses on causation and mechanisms. I am interested in self-organisation and constraint. At some level, they amount to the same thing - but there is an inherent undecidability about which it is which many less thoughtful realists fail to acknowledge.

Undecidability has been a bit of a theme this week as I've found myself playing which IBM's fascinating Quantum Experience (http://www.quantumlevitation.com/en/ - thanks to @iantindal for the tip-off). IBM's interface features a music-like score to logically handle the uncertainty of the combination of states of QBITs. I think the metaphor is appropriate: a written note in a musical score does not determine how it will actually sound, but the overall effect is achieved in its combination with other notes in the mind of a performer. The "program" is the ensemble.


At the conference, one of the most interesting presentations concerned the 'Aesthetics of institutional life' and the possibility that there was some kind of 'rhythm' or even a "music" of institutional life. I like this, although it demands we are very careful in saying what we think an institution is: there is a tendency to reify institutions when they are essentially emergent. But a music of institutions? Yes, I suspect this is right. What does it mean?

The question demands we think about what rhythm is, or even what music is. Very ambitious. We might then think about how our understanding of what music might be might relate to what we think institutional life might be. The key words for me here include: 'ecology', 'heterarchy', 'contingency', 'emergence'...

Music is powerful partly because we have some access to its components, their interactions and its processes of growth. In institutional life, all we really have access to are the transactions of the institution - whether they are transactions of daily institutional life, or the transactions between the researcher and institutional stakeholders. Although the transactional perspective appears limiting, it can be a useful lens through which to view music. The musical score is the transaction of the composer, the guitarist's 'lick' is a transaction in emergent performance, the rehearsal schedule is a transaction in the group organisation, the motif is a transaction in the construction of a form, the attenuation of tempo or dynamics by a performer is a transaction in the control of a collective expression. It's just that we can't see these very clearly.

My experiments with Sonic Pi (see last post) are making me think much more clearly about how creative emergent acts can be conceived and captured transactionally. In Sonic Pi, those acts are pieces of code. But it is not just the generation of pieces of code and the sound that emerges, it is the sharing and copying and transformation of ideas. This can all be studied.

So then, what if we look at the institution's transactions from the same perspective? What if we took a subset of institutional transactions? For example, what if we concentrated on the transactions that teachers and learners make in an educational institution?

Seen from this perspective, Learning Analytics is not a way of bettering teaching and learning (whatever that might mean). It might, however, be an opportunity to explore the music of institutional life.

Sunday, 8 May 2016

Raspberry Pi as a Musical Instrument

A lot of my computing work is taking place on Raspberry Pi at the moment. On the one hand, it allows me to write some pretty advanced routines for manipulating data and web pages (I'm doing some web automation using Selenium at work at the moment) and I know that once I have got things to work, all I have to do is plug the thing in and away it goes. I'm not messing around with cloud servers or anything that gives lots of setup headaches - what would once have seemed a bit wasteful to dedicate a whole machine to now doesn't matter - I just plug in a pi and the job's done!

But there's no question that what's REALLY cool about the Pi is Sonic Pi.

I've made a weird kind of music box. Basically, taking my cue from Nick Johnstone's blog and Robin Newman's work with Telegram (see http://widdersh.in/controlling-sonic-pi-from-vim-or-anywhere-else/), I've installed the Telegram CLI client, and have hacked around with the code so that I can send Sonic Pi code from my Mobile phone to the Pi. It works! Not only can I control it from my mobile, but I can make music with others, because their messages can get processed too.

At a deeper level, I'm interested in this because, apart from being a kind of collaborative live coding, it highlights the fact that every single message from Telegram to the Pi is a kind of transaction. Done collaboratively, different people's transactions are made visible to each other. Each person may repeat someone else's transaction, or change it in various ways. Thus what emerges (I haven't implemented this yet) is a kind of structure of the live coding co-creation: we should be able to see the emergence of musical ideas which are picked up by others, modified, repeated and so on. As the music progresses I find myself reviewing the transactions I have already tried, and selecting ones which I think might be interesting.

It's all quite exciting... the Pi Orchestra is next I think!

Saturday, 7 May 2016

Edgar Morin's "Seven Complex Lessons in Education for the Future": A powerful guide to educational progress

Edgar Morin's "Seven complex Lessons" is a short and powerful book, commissioned by UNESCO with a remit that gave him free reign to express his ideas. You can download it here:
http://unesdoc.unesco.org/images/0011/001177/117740eo.pdf
and hear him talk here:

The result is a kind of combination of polemic and analytical systems thinking which is similar in spirit (although a bit more technical) to the work of Illich or Freire.

In some ways Morin is less radical than Illich: there are no calls for 'deschooling' here: Morin appears to see education as a real thing in society which has a misconceived function. Morin's question concerns what education does and how it thinks about itself. Morin attacks disciplinary reductionism, arguing that education should concern itself with creating a context for exploring the human condition. He doesn't say very much about technology or institutions, which is perhaps an indication of where he draws boundaries around education.

Information theory and its cybernetic underpinning is at the heart of Morin's thinking. When he says that "Education's function is to transmit knowledge" there is perhaps an unfortunate connotation that might be drawn with naive didactic theories of education. This might stop people engaging more deeply with the book. It shouldn't.

Information theory is not about 'transmission' in the sense that is popularly understood (as a kind of 'contagion'). Information theory is about relations, and fundamentally Morin articulates a powerful relational account of education. Most importantly, Morin puts emphasis on the importance of uncertainty: "all our knowledge is fallible". The word 'uncertainty' has both a popular connotation and a technical meaning. In Shannon's information theory, uncertainty is the index of information: a reduction in uncertainty is both an indicator of information transmission, and coordination of action. To talk of transmission of knowledge is to talk about increasing the capacity of society to coordinate it's diversity and viability.

Uncertainty, from a cybernetic perspective, also has methodological implications. Morin doesn't say it explicitly, but the reductionism of knowledge which afflicts education results from the embrace of causation as the principal explanatory category of science. (If we'd listened a bit more carefully to David Hume in the 18th century, perhaps we wouldn't have made this mistake) When Morin says that knowledge is 'fallible' he means that our explanations of causal connections are constrained by what we don't know. The coordination of human action depends on understanding the constraints of knowledge and action - and these are indicated by our uncertainties, not our certainties. Yet education works by reinforcing certainties because this is seen by institutions as the best way they can maintain their viability.

Morin's educational vision is ecological: the human being is at once an individual, a member of society, and a member of the species. He doesn't however, specify is a pedagogy. What he has done is to very clearly state some fundamental principles which could be knocked into the ground like airport runway landing lights. I think it's as if we've been flying around aimlessly in education for years, and now we're running out of fuel. Morin has lit up the landing strip. Now we have to work out how to get back down to earth safely.

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

Denotation and Connotation in Learning Analytics

One of the criticisms of current data obsessions is the way in which analytic results appear to 'shout science': in other words, to make a claim for objectivity from collective subjectivities. Science is held to be domain of objectivity - of denotative claims: the realm where one points at something and says 'it's clearly moving at speed x, with momentum y" and so on. The subjective world is a world of connotation and interpretation: meaning arises between things. 'Shouting science' makes denotatative claims about connotative processes. In the final analysis, this is an act of oppression: it can only impose an 'objective' judgement on those whose connotative processes might not only come to a different conclusion, but almost certainly come to a different conclusion in the additional light of the imposition of analytic claims to truth.

What's wrong here is not data analytics itself. It is our view of science which is mistaken. To put it quite simply, 'objective' judgements are not indicative of stable entities in the world to which labels can be attached. They are indicative of coherences of understanding and expectation around which action can be coordinated. Zebras have no word of 'lion', but there is a coherence of expectation among zebras that coordinates action when a lion is spotted. We see the effects of these coherences in the regularities of behaviour which occur around particular entities: lifeworld entities like 'lions' exhibit a universal constraint on behaviour rendering it surprisingly predictable.

The question, with regard to data, is whether there is some indicative index of this coherence of understanding. But the same logic applies. Such an indicative index, were one to be available, is itself indicative of coherences of understanding and expectation around which action can be coordinated. However, when things get more abstract, deeper problems set in. A declaration of  an index by a powerful person can create a coordination of behaviour driven by understanding and expectations about the constraints of power dynamics, not the index itself. This is where false consciousness begins - and misleading representations of science.

If learning analytics is seen as a set of creative re-representations of things that happen in education, then it can make a more modest claim to add to the numerous descriptions of educational processes we already have. It is another descriptive layer in our connotative process. In a way, it is rather like how poets describe things:

Understanding is built up from the accretions of references. So too might we build up an understanding of learners through accretions of representations of what they do. The Facebook analytical graph is one of many possible descriptions of interactions online. It may be that such representations are important because so few alternative descriptions of online behaviour are available. In face-to-face communication we have bodies, sounds, movements, smells, touch and so on. Each contributes a layer of the connotative experience. Is it a wonder that online we feel the need to create this diversity of description?

But then if we do this, and we assert it as denotative, a distortion occurs. But we only do this because we think this is what science does. 

The scientific question concerns the generative power of the imagination and the discovery of constraints that nature imposes on imagined mechanisms. Codified mechanisms are coordinators of discursive processes. That might be the beginning of organised attempts to find those mechanisms in nature: The Hadron Supercollider is a good example. When some mechanisms are not found, the natural constraints which prevent them can also be coordinated. It's not finding the Higgs Boson which is important; it is identifying those speculated mechanisms which cannot be found.

Our research approach to education would look very different if we applied this approach. We would identify the constraints within which theoretical constructs are upheld, and where they don't work. Most importantly for the data analysts, the appreciation of constraints requires the accretion of many different descriptions. It is in exercising a connotative judgement that understandings between us can be coordinated.

In a deep way, science IS education.

Thursday, 28 April 2016

Redesigning Educational Technology from the Person Up

I've just seen a series of posts about Institutional VLEs giving access to previous modules that students have studied. Many institutions do this (although few allow access after a student has left), but it is a bit of a technological headache: 'courses' are rolled-forward to create new instances which are populated by new students, where the old instances (with all the previous students' work in them) are maintained too. It's a headache because the 'course' and its associated "cohort" has become a monolithic chunk in the VLE as they are in institutions. The individual person doesn't care very much about courses except that it contains particular units of assessment which they have to pass, and that they have to remember that course x was where they put that really cool forum post which they like to refer back to from time to time. But there are so many courses and so many assessments - and apart from differences in teacher and content, they are not that different from one another.

If a person wants access to a previous module, it is likely they either want access to their previous transactions in their education, or they might want access to the transactions of the teacher - particular content which was uploaded as part of a module. This is, after all, much how we use social media today - reposting, retweeting, commenting and so on. The social media giants store our transaction records and it is these which we search. Any Gmail user knows how powerful it is when every transaction over many years is stored and becomes searchable. Of course, the downside is that Google, Facebook and Twitter mine our data - more on that in a minute.

Why do we have courses anyway? And why has educational technology adopted the course metaphor? There's no reason why it should be like this apart from the fact that institutions have always done education like this: the issue is historical - it is because educational technology grew up around the face-to-face institution. But if we take the learner's transactions with teachers and peers as the building block rather than courses, things start to look different. First of all, learners don't all have to begin at the same time: this is one of the biggest constraints bearing on education.

A person's engagement with education begins long before they enrol on a course. Course enrolment is a transaction end-point of a process which begins with the person trying to decide on which direction to take their life. The educational journey starts in conversation, not lectures.

Early discussions are incredibly important and they happen on a one-to-one basis, not just with teachers but with family and peers. The transactions and flow from these discussions shape everything that comes next. Indeed, the idea of self-determination is probably incorrect: there is a kind of conversational alignment which produces a direction. In education, there has never been too much time spent thinking about these "what do you want?" discussions: apart from being complex and individualised, they simply aren't what educational institutions are about. Educational institutions say to a person "You want this!" and try to make products which can lure them in.

Why doesn't our learning technology start here? Why doesn't it start with the person's search? Why haven't we got tools to support this engagement? Why don't those tools then allow for the gradual emergence of an idea of a path of study? The simple answer is, this is not what our educational institutions are about. Up to this point, our attempts to change institutions with technology have ended up with institutions reinforcing their practices. Something more radical is required. I think we have to the tools to do this. We just need to refocus back onto the person. (And perhaps we should talk less about learners and more about persons!)