An introduction that can only be understood after reading the whole chapter is no introduction at all.
That seems obvious, right? But how many times have you read the introduction to a chapter in a technical book and found yourself completely flummoxed by it, only to come back to it later and agree it makes perfect sense? Far too often, I'd wager, even if you're not conscious of it. But now that I've said it, you'll start to notice it more and more often....
This has always been a problem, but the much-acclaimed "democratising" effects of the internet are also "amateurising", and more and more people are attempting to write articles and books on technical topics without any real grounding in the principles of technical writing. Introdutions are one of the first things to suffer, and it is becoming all too common to see an introduction that talks about something in completely opaque terms, leaving the reader more confused than if there had been no introduction at all. The writer very often acknowledges this, commenting not to worry if you don't
understand it.
My golden rule is simple:
Don't tell me something until you're ready to explain it properly. If I don't understand what you've said, you'd have been just as well saying nothing at all.
There are several factors that contribute to this problem, and some are more complex than others, so I'm going to focus on one problem alone just now: thematisation of new information confuses the reader.
What's thematisation of new information? I hear you cry. It's something I've just done to demonstrate the problem. I've been presenting a relatively coherent argument that you can follow without effort, even if you disagree with it. But then suddenly I threw in something your brain wasn't really ready to process, and you don't know what I'm talking about (unless you *do* know what I'm talking about, in which case just make believe for a while).
The "theme" of a clause or a sentence is (put simply) the first actual "thing" that the reader encounters (ie a noun phrase).
Consider the difference between:
Last week, John went to Paris.
and
John went to Paris last week.
In the first, we are talking about "last week", our theme, whereas in the second, we are talking about John. It's only a slight difference in emphasis, but it must be pretty important, otherwise we wouldn't go to the effort of maintaining the two different possible structures.
In the clause "thematisation of new information confuses the reader", the "theme" is "thematisation of new information".
I've started the clause with something most readers do not understand, and crucially I have done nothing to prepare them for it.
The conceptual gulf here is that the writer is fixated on the name of what they're trying to teach as a defining feature, rather than accepting that the name is arbitrary and effectively meaningless, and what we need to focus on is the concept and meaning.
Imagine you want to teach the idea of a biscuit tin. You've got a choice between:
"A metal container used to store biscuits is called a biscuit tin."and
"A biscuit tin is a metal container used to store biscuits."
The latter form assumes that the reader has encountered the term "biscuit tin" and is actively seeking its meaning, but the former introduces it the concept before sticking a label on it. It assumes we understand "metal container", "store" and "biscuits", but so does the other one. The first one, therefore, acts as a better introduction; the second is a dictionary entry, not copy for an instructional book.
A challenge for the reader: pick up a grammar book, any grammar book, and turn to the section on the subjunctive. How many times does the word "subjunctive" appear before the reader gets any real idea of the concept? And I'm not including "implies uncertainty or doubt", because that really isn't the meaning subjunctive in a great many languages. (EG in Spanish creo que... implies uncertainty, but it doesn't take the subjunctive.)
In my experience all the trickiest grammar points are provided with no adequate introduction in the vast majority of cases. When an introduction includes words to the effect of "don't worry if this is unclear, it will be explained later," I find myself wanting to ask the author why he didn't just leave it until he was ready to explain it properly.
Now I feel that my last sentence needs clarification: by explaining it properly I don't mean explaining it fully, because, of course, that's not what an introduction is supposed to do. An introduction can't and shouldn't give the full detail, but it should leave you with a rough notion of what the concept is, which can be refined as it goes.
Before I started properly on Scottish Gaelic, I read a great little book: Scottish Gaelic: a brief introduction (now republished as An Introduction to Scottish Gaelic). The book was an introduction. Each chapter was merely an introduction. The book didn't attempt to teach you anything in any depth, but to provide a broad overview of the concepts in the language. It's hard to say exactly how much of an effect it had on my learning, but I certainly didn't feel like I struggled with many of the concepts when I finally came round to actually learning how to use them "in anger".
I've read several internet language learners say they like to use grammar books this way -- read through without "learning" per se, just to get a feel for the overall "shape" of the language before starting to study in earnest, so it's a shame there aren't more books written in this style.
The introduction author has two great enemies.
The first is precision. No-one wants to write things that are wrong, and any simple explanation is prone to being cut down by pedantry, which ends up leading many to start with a dry technical description, which doesn't really help the reader to understand.
The second enemy is the contents page.
No, seriously.
Think about it: the textbook has never managed to supplant lectures as the main source of study, despite being cheaper than face-to-face lessons and far more readily available. And what do all textbooks have in common? Contents pages.
What... you expected a more in-depth argument than that? Correlation isn't good enough for you? Well then, try this on for causation:
What do you get on a contents page? Quite often a single noun phrase. "The nominal group." "The subjunctive mood." "Hydrostatic load." "Currying functions." Before you even turn to the first page of the chapter you're bombarded with arbitrary, undefined terms. All new information, all theme; nothing that actually means anything.
I believe that this predisposes people to write bad introductions, because it makes them act as if the reader is looking for a definition of a given term, when often nothing could be further from the truth: the term given is merely a label of convenience to summarise a body of knowledge that the writer hopes to impart to the reader.
But now the word's up there in bold type and there's no getting away from it. It could be ignored, but wouldn't you feel a little silly actively avoiding the word used in the title of the chapter for the first page or two? The title has poisoned the chapter.
OK, I'm exaggerating grossly here. Not all books have bad introductions. Some books have meaningful chapter titles rather than simply throwing the jargon in there. But there's something about the format that encourages thinking this way, and it's something that bears conscious consideration....
Showing posts with label internet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label internet. Show all posts
09 February 2013
10 December 2012
Too many cooks spoil the net....
When I first took up English teaching in 2007, the internet was an incredibly useful resource. If I was stuck for a lesson idea, a quick Google search or a glance at one of my favourite sites would give me the inspiration and ideas I needed to build a useful lesson.
But now, the TEFL world and his dog are all posting their ideas on the internet. A search that would have brought up a handful of useful links in 2007 now brings up a load of low quality worksheets and seemingly aimless tasks. The act of searching for material is now arguably more time-consuming than just sitting down and writing your own material from the ground up, leading to the wonderful paradox that publishing more information leads to less reuse of material. And this potentially snowballs, as all those teachers who're making their own material "because they can't find good stuff" start to publish their stuff too, further exacerbating the problem.
Now this is not to say that the authors of these materials aren't good teachers, but it is clear that the worksheets and activities don't fully encapsulate the spirit and methods of their class. The warm-ups, the support activities, even the teacher's personality have a transformative effect on the material presented, and to take a list of a dozen questions and divorce them from that context robs them of their meaning and effectiveness.
People often compare the sharing of documents to the open-source software movement (well, it's getting less and less common now that document sharing is getting more and more common) but I've always considered that a falacious comparison. Open-source is about exposing the underlying logic to the wider world, and allowing them to improve that logic; but a document is merely the conclusions reached by the author, not the logic he followed to make those decisions.
A very well designed learning exercise or test will follow a very strict process to ensure a sufficiently wide coverage of concepts and minimise the influence of luck on obtaining the correct answer, but as soon as you change one question in a set, you can end up breaking the balance of concepts tested and leave out something important.
If we're honest with ourselves, though, most of us will admit that we don't properly balance our tasks. There will be times when we hand out a worksheet and realise that we've missed an important case, and I know that as soon as I started marking the last grammar test I set, I started spotting gaps where concepts weren't tested while other concepts were tested multiple times.
Which is, of course, why we look to other people to provide us with exercises and tests -- it is far more efficient to have one person spend all the time making a meticulously balanced question set and then have hundreds of teachers reuse those questions.
That's why books are such a great idea in theory -- it's just a shame that in practice a great many language teaching books don't live up to the promise; which is where the internet was supposed to help. Unfortunately, the online material I've found to date isn't of great help. There's two major camps: the let's-dump-our-worksheets-and-move-on crowd and the oh-look-what-I-can-do-with-technology crowd.
The first lot is basically what I've already talked about -- problem sets with little or no guidance on how to build a coherent lesson around them.
The second lot is people who have learned how to use some flashy little piece of software, but more often than not they find themselves being controlled by the software, rather than being in control of it. This leads to a proliferation of pairing exercises (question halves and question-with-answer) and ordering exercises (sentence order or line-by-line conversation) because that's what the author knows how to do with the software. It's a further weakening of pedagogy.
The last example I saw of this was for revision of conditional sentences (if...). There was an introductory page that described the four conditional types, and then a selection of revision exercises, but each exercise focused on one type of sentence only, so the learner never needed to choose which type of conditional to use, just remember how to form the given type. These sort of structurally-focused exercises are usually only recommended when initially teaching the form, with student scaffolding being reduced continually until they are able to make free, independent choices. But as I said, this was allegedly a revision page... yet they were doing exercises designed for introducing the structure, because that was the type of exercise the author knew how to create. And it looked nice, too.
So, yes, the internet is slowly becoming more of a problem, not a solution.
A way forward...?
This problem isn't really anything new -- it has been the perennial problem of the internet. In the early days, the web was a collection of articles written mostly by academics, so it was high quality, low volume. As more and more people started posting stuff online, the volume went up, and the average quality went down.
"No problem," the academics told us, "the network will self-organise, and the cream will float to the top."
The mechanism by which this self-organisation took place was intelligent linking. A trusted source recommends other trusted sources, and surfers navigated that way. It worked -- that's how I found a lot of information online at the turn of the century.
Then came Google, whose algorithm worked on the same principles -- links acted as recommendations, and the value of a link was related to the linking site's rating. It was very effective.
But this network of links just doesn't exist in the language resource world. Most resources are what we would technically consider "leaf" nodes in the network -- they are end-points that don't lead anywhere else. Even when they do, it's normally only to other materials on the same site -- there are very few teachers' resource sites that aren't dedicated to keeping you on their site and their site alone. Those that do link to other sites are (at least in my experience) pretty unfussy about what they link to, listing far too many resources and in effect simply echoing the results of a Google search in a different format.
This means that Google has very little to go on when trying to rate resources for language teachers, and this leads to a paradox from Google's point of view: Google has become so popular as the way to find resources that people are no longer building up the web of links that Google relies on. This isn't true in all fields, where forum posts have started to replace traditional websites as the source of recommendations.
However, most fields have a certain sense of simultaneity -- TV programmes, for example, are broadcast at a fixed time, and their importance fades. Most spheres are subject to such fashions, so people will be talking about the same thing at the same time. But language points don't come into or go out of fashion. Every teacher in the world teaches them... but not at the same time. Although there are forums related to the topic, it's not a topic that is really suited to the medium.
So there's not enough information out there to let Google separate the wheat from the chaff. It's a mess.
What's needed is for teachers who find genuinely useful material to start cataloguing it selectively, publishing a useful collection of links to a small number of resources that cover the major language points that most teachers need. Sites that favour quantity over quality. And we need to start sharing the links to those sites. And we need to start using those sites, rather than Google. If you know of any such sites, feel free to add links in the comments section!
Collaborative materials
More than that, though, if we genuinely want to share our materials, we need to make sure that they can be updated and improved upon. Millions of man-hours are wasted by producing multiple flawed worksheets, when we could make minor modifications to each other's and produce something of lasting value.
I doubt I'm the only teacher who alters the free materials I've downloaded from the internet, but like all the others, I keep my modifications to myself because the author's given me permission to use the material, but not to redistribute it. This is a shame, because some of the best designed materials I've come across have been from non-natives, and fixing one or two little non-native errors would make them into something valuable... but I refuse to use or recommend anything with even one non-native error in it.
But just permission to republish isn't enough, because that wouldn't stop the proliferation of materials -- it would worsen it. A dozen different sites with slightly different versions of the same worksheet... that would be a nightmare. We have to look at the software world again and look at how they control their edits, updates and revision; how they resolve differences of opinion... or not (projects often "fork" into two versions when people can't agree on a single way to progress, and quite often these forks are merged together a few years down the line).
Or...
We could stick to the books and materials we've produced ourselves. Your choice.
But now, the TEFL world and his dog are all posting their ideas on the internet. A search that would have brought up a handful of useful links in 2007 now brings up a load of low quality worksheets and seemingly aimless tasks. The act of searching for material is now arguably more time-consuming than just sitting down and writing your own material from the ground up, leading to the wonderful paradox that publishing more information leads to less reuse of material. And this potentially snowballs, as all those teachers who're making their own material "because they can't find good stuff" start to publish their stuff too, further exacerbating the problem.
Now this is not to say that the authors of these materials aren't good teachers, but it is clear that the worksheets and activities don't fully encapsulate the spirit and methods of their class. The warm-ups, the support activities, even the teacher's personality have a transformative effect on the material presented, and to take a list of a dozen questions and divorce them from that context robs them of their meaning and effectiveness.
People often compare the sharing of documents to the open-source software movement (well, it's getting less and less common now that document sharing is getting more and more common) but I've always considered that a falacious comparison. Open-source is about exposing the underlying logic to the wider world, and allowing them to improve that logic; but a document is merely the conclusions reached by the author, not the logic he followed to make those decisions.
A very well designed learning exercise or test will follow a very strict process to ensure a sufficiently wide coverage of concepts and minimise the influence of luck on obtaining the correct answer, but as soon as you change one question in a set, you can end up breaking the balance of concepts tested and leave out something important.
If we're honest with ourselves, though, most of us will admit that we don't properly balance our tasks. There will be times when we hand out a worksheet and realise that we've missed an important case, and I know that as soon as I started marking the last grammar test I set, I started spotting gaps where concepts weren't tested while other concepts were tested multiple times.
Which is, of course, why we look to other people to provide us with exercises and tests -- it is far more efficient to have one person spend all the time making a meticulously balanced question set and then have hundreds of teachers reuse those questions.
That's why books are such a great idea in theory -- it's just a shame that in practice a great many language teaching books don't live up to the promise; which is where the internet was supposed to help. Unfortunately, the online material I've found to date isn't of great help. There's two major camps: the let's-dump-our-worksheets-and-move-on crowd and the oh-look-what-I-can-do-with-technology crowd.
The first lot is basically what I've already talked about -- problem sets with little or no guidance on how to build a coherent lesson around them.
The second lot is people who have learned how to use some flashy little piece of software, but more often than not they find themselves being controlled by the software, rather than being in control of it. This leads to a proliferation of pairing exercises (question halves and question-with-answer) and ordering exercises (sentence order or line-by-line conversation) because that's what the author knows how to do with the software. It's a further weakening of pedagogy.
The last example I saw of this was for revision of conditional sentences (if...). There was an introductory page that described the four conditional types, and then a selection of revision exercises, but each exercise focused on one type of sentence only, so the learner never needed to choose which type of conditional to use, just remember how to form the given type. These sort of structurally-focused exercises are usually only recommended when initially teaching the form, with student scaffolding being reduced continually until they are able to make free, independent choices. But as I said, this was allegedly a revision page... yet they were doing exercises designed for introducing the structure, because that was the type of exercise the author knew how to create. And it looked nice, too.
So, yes, the internet is slowly becoming more of a problem, not a solution.
A way forward...?
This problem isn't really anything new -- it has been the perennial problem of the internet. In the early days, the web was a collection of articles written mostly by academics, so it was high quality, low volume. As more and more people started posting stuff online, the volume went up, and the average quality went down.
"No problem," the academics told us, "the network will self-organise, and the cream will float to the top."
The mechanism by which this self-organisation took place was intelligent linking. A trusted source recommends other trusted sources, and surfers navigated that way. It worked -- that's how I found a lot of information online at the turn of the century.
Then came Google, whose algorithm worked on the same principles -- links acted as recommendations, and the value of a link was related to the linking site's rating. It was very effective.
But this network of links just doesn't exist in the language resource world. Most resources are what we would technically consider "leaf" nodes in the network -- they are end-points that don't lead anywhere else. Even when they do, it's normally only to other materials on the same site -- there are very few teachers' resource sites that aren't dedicated to keeping you on their site and their site alone. Those that do link to other sites are (at least in my experience) pretty unfussy about what they link to, listing far too many resources and in effect simply echoing the results of a Google search in a different format.
This means that Google has very little to go on when trying to rate resources for language teachers, and this leads to a paradox from Google's point of view: Google has become so popular as the way to find resources that people are no longer building up the web of links that Google relies on. This isn't true in all fields, where forum posts have started to replace traditional websites as the source of recommendations.
However, most fields have a certain sense of simultaneity -- TV programmes, for example, are broadcast at a fixed time, and their importance fades. Most spheres are subject to such fashions, so people will be talking about the same thing at the same time. But language points don't come into or go out of fashion. Every teacher in the world teaches them... but not at the same time. Although there are forums related to the topic, it's not a topic that is really suited to the medium.
So there's not enough information out there to let Google separate the wheat from the chaff. It's a mess.
What's needed is for teachers who find genuinely useful material to start cataloguing it selectively, publishing a useful collection of links to a small number of resources that cover the major language points that most teachers need. Sites that favour quantity over quality. And we need to start sharing the links to those sites. And we need to start using those sites, rather than Google. If you know of any such sites, feel free to add links in the comments section!
Collaborative materials
More than that, though, if we genuinely want to share our materials, we need to make sure that they can be updated and improved upon. Millions of man-hours are wasted by producing multiple flawed worksheets, when we could make minor modifications to each other's and produce something of lasting value.
I doubt I'm the only teacher who alters the free materials I've downloaded from the internet, but like all the others, I keep my modifications to myself because the author's given me permission to use the material, but not to redistribute it. This is a shame, because some of the best designed materials I've come across have been from non-natives, and fixing one or two little non-native errors would make them into something valuable... but I refuse to use or recommend anything with even one non-native error in it.
But just permission to republish isn't enough, because that wouldn't stop the proliferation of materials -- it would worsen it. A dozen different sites with slightly different versions of the same worksheet... that would be a nightmare. We have to look at the software world again and look at how they control their edits, updates and revision; how they resolve differences of opinion... or not (projects often "fork" into two versions when people can't agree on a single way to progress, and quite often these forks are merged together a few years down the line).
Or...
We could stick to the books and materials we've produced ourselves. Your choice.
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