Some Thoughts on Learning Communities and "Virtual" Realities by Ron Miller
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As we discussed the ideas that gave rise to this book, and again later, as I edited the chapters that were submitted, it was evident that many of the people who are working to redefine our ways of teaching and learning are extremely enthusiastic about the educational possibilities of "cyberspace"--the Internet, distance learning, educational software, and the like. There is no question that the computer, with all its technological extensions and applications, is a powerful tool, that it is welcomed and eagerly used by millions of people in nearly all parts of the world, and that it is here to stay. Without a doubt, cyberspace opens up many new possibilities for teaching and learning beyond the traditional classroom. Claudia L'Amoreaux's account, in this volume, of the ways in which new technologies dramatically expanded her world reveals exciting possibilities. This book itself arose from an Internet discussion group.
Nevertheless, I want to make the point that the educational transformation we are advocating in this book, based on principles such as self-directed lifelong learning, community-focused education, and more authentic, holistic, experiential and relevant forms of learning, is not necessarily tied to technological innovation. These are moral and philosophical principles, not simply byproducts of electronic gimmickry. Even further, I would claim that if we take these principles truly seriously, we will approach the use of electronic tools and cyberspace rather cautiously and critically.
Computer technologies are useful because they provide access to a tremendous range of information. For many reasons and purposes, this is worthwhile in itself. Information is vitally important for making decisions, for enhancing the quality of life, for mastering fields of knowledge, for understanding other people's experiences, as well as our own. But if we begin to assume that information is all we need for these purposes, we enter dangerous territory: We start to reduce the wholeness of human experience into one-dimensional images. Human beings do not live in a "virtual" reality that can be logically constructed from bits of information--we live in an actual reality that is enormously complex. Our experience is rooted in numerous contexts that give it multiple meanings: We are biological creatures living in an ecological context, social beings living in cultural, economic and political contexts, and spiritual beings expressing a wondrous diversity of psychological, archetypal, and mysterious evolutionary forces. To call all these contexts "information" is to lose their texture, their essential meaning. The sense of awe one feels gazing at the Milky Way, or our appreciation of form, depth or beauty in a great work of art, is not merely information. One's commitment to social justice or to relieving human suffering is not inspired by information, but by other dimensions of the soul.
As Theodore Roszak eloquently argued in his 1986 book The Cult of Information, it is not information but experience that enables human beings to find moral, life-enriching meanings in this complex reality, and the difference between the two is precisely what distinguishes holistic (experiential) forms of education from the dry, lifeless academic exercises that make up the bulk of conventional schooling. The kind of knowing that gives rise to wisdom is rooted in historical, geographical, and biological contexts--it is not neutral information that can be gathered at will from a computer screen. Such wisdom, Roszak suggested, comes from ideas--"integrating patterns which satisfy the mind when it asks the question: What does this mean? What is this all about?" These patterns arise from imagination in response to experience--flesh and blood engagement with the realities of the world. Ideas connect one to larger contexts; they are not limited to the information at hand, no matter how much is available.
What takes place when two people meet over a meal to talk about their lives? Picture two longtime friends, or business associates, or young lovers on a date. The meaning of their communication involves facial expressions, body language, inflection of voice, and other situational factors--it is nonsense to claim that they are merely exchanging "information" contained in the words they speak. The quality of their engagement is affected by their emotional state at the moment, by the environment in which they are sitting (is it noisy? elegant? romantic? too cold?), even by the food they are eating. All of this is absent in "messages" they could send each other via email. If we understand education as communication between human beings, as meaningful engagement in a learning process, then the same conditions apply. In fact, these conditions are even more essential, for education at its best goes beyond personal communication and connects us to the ecological, cultural, economic, political and evolutionary forces around us. A great deal of information can be shared through impersonal channels, but it lacks several dimensions of experience that make it fully meaningful and alive.
As we think about new learning systems, then, we should ask ourselves: Are we embracing new technologies that merely advance established assumptions about the nature of knowledge, learning, and human development? Or do we envision education as a process of cultural transformation that raises fundamental questions about our social institutions and ways of living together? In other words, what assumptions are embedded in our educational vision and in the language we use to describe it? I would like to reflect on Frank Heller's chapter with these questions in mind. Frank provides a detailed introduction to the exploding use of computer technologies in learning, and suggests how this is already revolutionizing our understanding of schooling. Still, I wonder about the assumptions embedded in the language of the computer revolution. Frank observes, for example, that "hundreds of colleges and universities have 'packaged' college and secondary classes for delivery to independent learners around the world." If we view education as the "delivery" of information, this is a good thing--the more efficient the packaging, the better. The words that Frank uses to describe distance learning--programs being "marketed," employees being "trained," and students "shopping" for colleges--reflect an implicit acceptance of existing social and economic institutions. Similarly, using educational software and computer equipment involves competition, advertising, and "deals." Education is seen as an appropriate arena for entrepreneurs.
This is still the dominant understanding of education in our culture. Quite possibly, the development of distance learning programs and "netschools" is the next natural step in the evolution toward new learning systems. If they liberate us from the constraints of standardized learning, state-approved textbooks, and police-guarded school buildings, they are a welcome innovation indeed. Still, we might go further. If we challenge the modern industrial world with a more holistic worldview, a worldview concerned with wholeness, meaning, interdependence, sustainability, and spirituality, then we come up with an understanding of education that Kathia and Alexander Laszlo describe in their chapter on Evolutionary Systems Design: "Learning is a complex activity that involves the whole human being and implies interactions with other human beings and with the natural and sociocultural environment." Computer-mediated interaction is better than none, I suppose, but the information it supplies us does not substitute for the sensuous, emotional, meaning-seeking encounter that is only possible in a live engagement with other human beings and the multifaceted world we share.
Our challenge is to use technologies to serve higher, more holistic purposes, without being utterly seduced by the power to manipulate information that these technologies offer. As many wise thinkers are telling us these days (Wendell Berry, Parker Palmer, Charlene Spretnak, Bill McKibben, C.A. Bowers, and Jerry Mander come to mind, among many others), human existence is meaningful and fulfilling only when we are ecologically rooted in a sense of place, when our hunger for power is tempered by restraint and a sense of proportion, when we recognize moral and spiritual dimensions of reality that transcend our information-based knowledge. Cyberworlds and virtual realities too easily cause us to forget these boundaries to our egoistic striving. It would be ironic, and deeply troubling, if the idea of community-based learning, which essentially seeks to situate the individual within a moral and ecological sense of place, becomes corrupted by the Siren call of information technology.
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© Copyright 2000. Ron Miller - All Rights Reserved.
milleron@together.net