The Norbert Bolz talk was quite enlightening. One of the key concepts I take from it is the knowledge management paradigm. If you think the idea of attention management through to its extremes, the answer to our questions is not knowledge management.
The reason I would like to elaborate on this conceptual problem, is the nature of knowledge itself. If you look at the way knowledge is created, this used to go through a overseeable body of information distribution, mainly governed through, though not by, university staff and its affiliates. This meant that to become knowledgeable about a subject, one had to read through a published aggregate of texts.
To become a true expert in a field, reading wasn't enough, obviously. Discussion, teaching and writing are also useful. But these are activities typically performed within the university context. So to become a scholar was to become an expert. In some fields of expertise, it still is. But these are diminishing in number and the level of expertise to be gained is also dropping.
If we look at knowledge now, this is quite a different beast. The speed with which it is created, is up considerably. The nature is becoming more diverse. How do you grab, fossilize, or control a forum discussion? If there are 15 replies, reading still does the trick. But what if there are 275 replies to a forum topic? Or 275 thousand? What about a chat session where the value of the Q&A can be limited or universally profound? How can we value the knowledge available in our online and offline universe?
So knowledge management, a typical controlled activity, is in a conundrum.
I would love to be able to say or write encouraging remarks such as "technology will save us" or "we'll figure out a way such as we always have" but I think this is the wrong answer to the wrong question.
The question no longer is "How can we manage the available knowledge" but rather "How can we distribute the knowledge to use it collectively?".
The problem we're faced with is no longer management but availability. How do we make knowledge into something that is available to those of us who are looking for insight? And how do we share those insights to make them applicable to others?
I have no answers to these questions, but I'm hoping others will contribute to refine the questions to aid looking for answers.
Showing posts with label knowledge transfer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label knowledge transfer. Show all posts
29 Nov 2007
Why authority is suspect
Authority is no more. And let's be thankful it is. I just attended the speech from Andrew Keen and his frightening message of internet killing our wisdom. I think it's a load of soft smelly street ornament.
I won't go into the exact contents of his speech. It can easily be found in his book, on the web and perhaps he'll try shoving it down your throat as well.
What I will focus on, is the underlying message of elitism. Unpopular though hippies may be nowadays, they did one important thing and that is do away with authority. I don't mean there are no longer people who are experts in a subject. It does imply that expertise in one field no longer leads to authority beyond that. Or even of authority in the field itself.
Is this necessarily bad? It is if you like authority. It is not if you prefer genuine experiences. In general, authority inhibits true delving into the other as a person. It requires formal obligations to be observed which are generally counterproductive in achieving true interaction. And in learning, true interaction - both live and virtual - is the prime objective (apart from the others, such as don't disturb foreign worlds with a lower level of development).
So authority is not bad just because it's not democratic. Democracy is a lofty goal, not a label you can stick on something, though that's a different discussion. Authority is bad because it keeps us from being our true selves. If I am put in the role of expert and others expect me to be an authority, it prevents me from expressing my doubts which are inherent and necessary in any learning environment. If I can be just a contributor, my expertise can be judged objectively.
We don't need another generation of power hungry authority figures. And especially not male ones.
Recognize the model? Male, ageing, expert: the professor. Yesterday's authority.
Web 2.0 liberates us from him. Let's keep it this way. Collaboration does that.
I won't go into the exact contents of his speech. It can easily be found in his book, on the web and perhaps he'll try shoving it down your throat as well.
What I will focus on, is the underlying message of elitism. Unpopular though hippies may be nowadays, they did one important thing and that is do away with authority. I don't mean there are no longer people who are experts in a subject. It does imply that expertise in one field no longer leads to authority beyond that. Or even of authority in the field itself.
Is this necessarily bad? It is if you like authority. It is not if you prefer genuine experiences. In general, authority inhibits true delving into the other as a person. It requires formal obligations to be observed which are generally counterproductive in achieving true interaction. And in learning, true interaction - both live and virtual - is the prime objective (apart from the others, such as don't disturb foreign worlds with a lower level of development).
So authority is not bad just because it's not democratic. Democracy is a lofty goal, not a label you can stick on something, though that's a different discussion. Authority is bad because it keeps us from being our true selves. If I am put in the role of expert and others expect me to be an authority, it prevents me from expressing my doubts which are inherent and necessary in any learning environment. If I can be just a contributor, my expertise can be judged objectively.
We don't need another generation of power hungry authority figures. And especially not male ones.
Recognize the model? Male, ageing, expert: the professor. Yesterday's authority.
Web 2.0 liberates us from him. Let's keep it this way. Collaboration does that.
20 Nov 2007
Computers are not machines
Interesting times indeed. I attended an interesting session on networking yesterday and I want to tell about one of its ideas I took home with me.
Teaching kids computers is a bad idea. Of course, I mean something entirely different from what you just read. But, nevertheless, it remains a bad idea to teach kids about computers in the way we teach them anything else.
Hello kids.
This is a computer. It's a machine and you can turn it on.
Now switch it on, the button is like this.
When the computer has started, which usually takes a while (unless it's an Apple or the latest processor), type this: student_usr123 and then take the mouse.
The mouse is the little oval thing on a wire next to the keyboard. You can use it to point at things.
Now we will learn how to point at things.
Meanwhile, 80% of class has already typed in user name and password, and has just discovered that some websites are blocked, but they can still download their favorite Messenger software. They can't install it, though. That's been disabled.
Now the 20% of pupils who have taken a little longer to log in, are exploring the desktop environment. Meanwhile, one has already crashed Explorer and is now asking attention from the teacher.
Sounds vaguely familiar? It's the way we teach computers. We show how to type, point and click. We show Word and you can type in it, too. Excel can be used as a calculator, but we'd never allow it. For calculus you have pocket calculators. the computer is a tool for more important things.
Never mind the fact that 95% of my use of Excel in the last five years was for adding or other simple calculations. Excel is a serious application. No playing here, kids.
I hope my point has already been made, otherwise I'm quite prepared to spell it out: computers are boring.
Not because they are, but we make them to be so.
But luckily, most kids already know computers are much more fun. You can play with them in ways most adults have never known. The trouble is, not all of our kids get the opportunity to use computers outside school. It's an important observation, into which I will not go now.
What's more disturbing, is the fact that kids learn that adults can even make something as exiting as computers dull. So when they grow up, they know they don't want to do the thing adults do.
So now I'll hint to what to do.
A pupil is interested in something not many other kids are into, something to do with painting, for instance. As a teacher , you might encourage this by letting her or him paint, read about painting etcetera.
But you could also treat the computer that is standing around the way it should be, and let that kid visit newsgroups, chat rooms, anything about painting. You might want to keep an eye on this or make sure the connection is with other pupils of the same age.
Imagine that learning curve! Think of the awe the others might have for someone in such a special social network. And this way, I come to my main point: the computer is social. All interactivity is learning. Even bad experiences provide useful learning possibilities.
Children will learn computers if they realize there is someone on the other end that can teach them something they want to know. Maybe they'll even learn how to type. But they don't want to learn about computers. Perhaps some do and we know quite well how to teach them that. Perhaps some have difficulties using the machine, and we have to make sure they get opportunities, too. But other than that, computers are not machines. They are long distance voices.
Teaching kids computers is a bad idea. Of course, I mean something entirely different from what you just read. But, nevertheless, it remains a bad idea to teach kids about computers in the way we teach them anything else.
Hello kids.
This is a computer. It's a machine and you can turn it on.
Now switch it on, the button is like this.
When the computer has started, which usually takes a while (unless it's an Apple or the latest processor), type this: student_usr123 and then take the mouse.
The mouse is the little oval thing on a wire next to the keyboard. You can use it to point at things.
Now we will learn how to point at things.
Meanwhile, 80% of class has already typed in user name and password, and has just discovered that some websites are blocked, but they can still download their favorite Messenger software. They can't install it, though. That's been disabled.
Now the 20% of pupils who have taken a little longer to log in, are exploring the desktop environment. Meanwhile, one has already crashed Explorer and is now asking attention from the teacher.
Sounds vaguely familiar? It's the way we teach computers. We show how to type, point and click. We show Word and you can type in it, too. Excel can be used as a calculator, but we'd never allow it. For calculus you have pocket calculators. the computer is a tool for more important things.
Never mind the fact that 95% of my use of Excel in the last five years was for adding or other simple calculations. Excel is a serious application. No playing here, kids.
I hope my point has already been made, otherwise I'm quite prepared to spell it out: computers are boring.
Not because they are, but we make them to be so.
But luckily, most kids already know computers are much more fun. You can play with them in ways most adults have never known. The trouble is, not all of our kids get the opportunity to use computers outside school. It's an important observation, into which I will not go now.
What's more disturbing, is the fact that kids learn that adults can even make something as exiting as computers dull. So when they grow up, they know they don't want to do the thing adults do.
So now I'll hint to what to do.
A pupil is interested in something not many other kids are into, something to do with painting, for instance. As a teacher , you might encourage this by letting her or him paint, read about painting etcetera.
But you could also treat the computer that is standing around the way it should be, and let that kid visit newsgroups, chat rooms, anything about painting. You might want to keep an eye on this or make sure the connection is with other pupils of the same age.
Imagine that learning curve! Think of the awe the others might have for someone in such a special social network. And this way, I come to my main point: the computer is social. All interactivity is learning. Even bad experiences provide useful learning possibilities.
Children will learn computers if they realize there is someone on the other end that can teach them something they want to know. Maybe they'll even learn how to type. But they don't want to learn about computers. Perhaps some do and we know quite well how to teach them that. Perhaps some have difficulties using the machine, and we have to make sure they get opportunities, too. But other than that, computers are not machines. They are long distance voices.
17 Oct 2007
Towards a model of knowledge transfer with e-tools
An important issue with e-learning projects and projects in general is follow-up. Many good projects stop after a short cycle and its results are rarely used for follow-up projects.
After a walkthrough meeting I attended last year, a very good presentation was made by Maria Kochanska, who hosted the meeting. Her mindmaps are here: http://www.le.ac.uk/beyonddistance/Files/Mind%20map.ppt#256,1,Dia 1 1
One of the conclusions is exactly the same as the topic I address here: We don't try hard enough letting others benefit from our experience. When I suggested yesterday in yet another workshop we use the available knowledge more efficiently by providing a database of people with certain experiences, the replies I got weren't all positive.
Often people are afraid they will become a commodity for too many others. My response to this: it's a market, baby. How are we going to make the results of projects known if the people that were involved in them are afraid to show themselves? And if enough others are interested, what you know becomes valuable and you can price it. And if you really want only to disseminate to very few, price it high.
In e-learning this model has been adopted from the start. Since the folks involved in e-learning are aware of their price, they routinely charge for what they have to offer. This is not all bad, as long as you adopt a balanced strategy. If some of what you learned was publicly funded, it's only fair to charge less to public bodies. Who knows how you'll benefit from what you've shown to others?
An even better model would be to transfer your knowledge to organizations, as they are generally more capable to retain knowledge. But the scale is also important here. Large organizations tend to protect their embedded knowledge stronger so perhaps it's advisable to transfer what you know to people in medium-sized companies or institutions.
Working out a model to distribute costs for knowledge transfer is one of the more poignant tasks, which I feel is certainly worth pursuing. Certainly e-tools are very helpful for this. I'll try to elaborate on this later.
After a walkthrough meeting I attended last year, a very good presentation was made by Maria Kochanska, who hosted the meeting. Her mindmaps are here: http://www.le.ac.uk/beyonddistance/Files/Mind%20map.ppt#256,1,Dia 1 1
One of the conclusions is exactly the same as the topic I address here: We don't try hard enough letting others benefit from our experience. When I suggested yesterday in yet another workshop we use the available knowledge more efficiently by providing a database of people with certain experiences, the replies I got weren't all positive.
Often people are afraid they will become a commodity for too many others. My response to this: it's a market, baby. How are we going to make the results of projects known if the people that were involved in them are afraid to show themselves? And if enough others are interested, what you know becomes valuable and you can price it. And if you really want only to disseminate to very few, price it high.
In e-learning this model has been adopted from the start. Since the folks involved in e-learning are aware of their price, they routinely charge for what they have to offer. This is not all bad, as long as you adopt a balanced strategy. If some of what you learned was publicly funded, it's only fair to charge less to public bodies. Who knows how you'll benefit from what you've shown to others?
An even better model would be to transfer your knowledge to organizations, as they are generally more capable to retain knowledge. But the scale is also important here. Large organizations tend to protect their embedded knowledge stronger so perhaps it's advisable to transfer what you know to people in medium-sized companies or institutions.
Working out a model to distribute costs for knowledge transfer is one of the more poignant tasks, which I feel is certainly worth pursuing. Certainly e-tools are very helpful for this. I'll try to elaborate on this later.
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