McGraw-Hill Education plans to acquire adaptive learning software maker ALEKS. The software maker and the publishing giant have worked together over the past decade on math courseware for McGraw-Hill. ALEKS also has a standalone product, which McGraw-Hill said it will continue to offer in the "near term."
The acquisition marks McGraw-Hill's first since it was acquired by private equity firm Apollo Global Management. ALEKS is one of a number of companies trying to figure out how to make education software respond to and aid students.
In today’s Academic Minute, Vasileios Lampos of the University of Sheffield reveals what detailed analysis of a period literature says about the spirit of the age. Learn more about the Academic Minute here.
Researchers at a Spanish university, la Universidad Carlos III of Madrid, have unveiled special intelligent glasses for use by professors when teaching. The glasses have multiple views for the professor, who can see notes for lecture delivery while wearing them. Further, the professor can look at students and then a symbol will appear -- selected by the student -- to indicate whether the student understands the content, and whether the student would like the professor to slow down. The professors who invented the glasses said that they would eliminate the need for a student to make a public statement about not understanding lecture content.
Only 16 percent of colleges that offer degrees in communications offer at least one online course in the subject, according to a new survey by the National Communication Association. The association noted that a few of the departments listed as not having a program have password-protected course listings and some of them might have a course.
Tyler Cowen, star economics professor, co-founded online university about a decade after he helped start the popular blog Marginal Revolution. He wants to offer a whole basic economics education online and has no plans to make money from it.
But many of the concerns driving opposition to MOOCs and other new forms of higher education aren't compelling.
One of the most common doubts about MOOCs in higher education, for example, is that some numbers suggest fewer than 10 percent of enrollees complete the classes (though figures vary widely for different MOOC models).
Well, so what? Most dieters quit; does this mean universities should abandon wellness education? Should they cut smoking cessation programs? Should rural schools in Pakistan be shuttered because many children in the area won’t or can’t walk four miles from home to learn?
Another common forecast from academics is that universities will use MOOCs to eliminate tenure-track positions, fire vulnerable adjuncts, and commodify higher education.
But wait, we were just told that only 10 percent of MOOC enrollees finish. Doesn’t that mean colleges and universities will still need professors in the flesh and brick facilities to educate people who don’t thrive in online classrooms? Yes, because online learning is just a natural component — not a replacement — of higher education in our age of screens.
The fear that MOOCs and other online teaching will whittle academic departments is overstated, but even if it isn’t, who are we trying to benefit here? If, say, a Yale University MOOC allows 200 students in Honduras and Hawaii to complete an Ivy League chemistry class, and the same MOOC results in the elimination of an adjunct position in Honolulu, I’m not sure I see a clearly defined catastrophe.
Philosophy faculty at San Jose State University recently sent an open letter to a Harvard MOOC professor, publicly refusing to use any of the academic’s MOOC in their curriculum. Now, is the decision to never use any of the Harvard MOOC, made available by a trial partnership between San Jose State and edX, the ideal verdict for every San Jose State student who ever takes philosophy? Doubtful.
There are far more students than professors in higher education, and the system is supposed to be set up for the aspirants, not the academics. I want universities to have robust, supported faculty, and I’m a professor myself, but MOOC-triggered alarms that that focus solely on faculty positions put the teacher first, learner last. Online learning (both MOOCs and other new models) should simply be viewed as another way to reach learners where they are, and as a way to acknowledge different learning styles.
The grandest warning against MOOCs is that the online courses will devastate in-person education as we know it, erasing all the dynamics of classrooms, the pheromones, and instantaneous feedback.
But forms of communication don’t die; devices do. The best way to teach will always be in person, but technologies can be utilized to also help those who can’t be in the room. Why does Eric Schmidt fly around the world to expand Google’s business? Why do tech elites at Apple still gather in meeting rooms like the cast of "Mad Men"? Because the best way to forge meaningful ties is face-to-face. We still need to seize online technologies, though, to connect more learners to teachers.
One of the more legitimate concerns regarding MOOCs and other new forms of online instruction involves intellectual property rights. Who retains copyright privileges for online courses that can cost a university a lot to produce, but are also the fruit of professors’ creativity?
Some MOOCs and other initiatives literally require hundreds of thousands of dollars to launch. With sunk costs like that, universities want to retain ownership of the course. Rightfully, though, professors want to be able to take their course material with them, say, if they leave one university for another, or, in the age of monetized curriculums, to earn fees from their courses promoted by for-profit companies.
But the intellectual property concern doesn’t make people want to eliminate MOOCs, and rather hinges on who will retain distribution and financial rights to an online course.
Professors who want to teach MOOCs, not those who fear them, raise copyright concerns. Professors, presidents and provosts must reach acceptable agreements on rights to the moolah, just as they do for other contentious issues.
Online education is happening and we're going to see more of it, and educators can't hide under the covers.
Northwestern University, where I teach, will begin in the fall a pilot year of "Semester Online," a consortium project in which Northwestern students can take and receive credit for online courses from schools like Boston College, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Emory University and elsewhere. Northwestern professors, likewise, may teach classes online to students at colleges in the consortium. Such expansive online offerings could be especially useful in the future to my students, as I teach in Northwestern's journalism program in Qatar, over 7,000 miles from Evanston, Ill.
And that's the idea: to give students more options while jealously guarding quality. Colleges in the consortium will not accept credit for a "Wayne's World" MOOC broadcast from a basement, but rather courses from faculty at proven universities. This is a much better approach than closing one's eyes and hoping online learning goes away.
Justin D. Martin teaches journalism at Northwestern University in Qatar and serves on Northwestern’s Faculty Distance Learning Workgroup, though his views do not necessarily reflect the group’s perspectives. Follow him @Justin_D_Martin.
I admit it – from kindergarten on, I was teacher’s pet. I got an assignment. I labored over it, made it perfect, turned it in early, got the A.
Until now. Let me confess: I am a MOOC noncompleter. I had heard the hype that massive open online courses (MOOCs) are transforming higher education, and I wanted to see for myself.
I enrolled in the University of Edinburgh’s MOOC on e-learning and digital cultures, offered through Coursera. With enthusiasm I joined my 260,000 fellow students, whom I assumed shared my interest in a rigorous and rich college experience online.
On day one, I got a form e-mail welcoming me. I was to watch a few videos each week, do a few readings, and do my homework – maybe: "There are no weekly 'assignments,' although we do recommend trying at least two of the suggested activities. These are not assessed, but will help you to prepare for the final assignment."
I started out eagerly, watching the videos, skimming the readings, and participating in the online discussion forum. I could do this late at night at home or while traveling for my day job. But after two sessions, my interest waned. Maybe it was the lack of real-time interaction with classmates or professors. Maybe it was the lack of accountability. I soon wasn’t watching all the videos, and I certainly wasn’t doing the practice homework that no one would ever grade. Honestly, I felt more like an audience member than a student.
The final assignment would determine if I passed or failed, but I didn’t feel connected enough to the class to complete the project. And what would have been my reward? A noncredit statement of completion of truly questionable value.
My MOOC experience is pretty typical. Passing is about showing up, not doing the kind of quality work that meets any standards of academic rigor. Even with bare minimum standards for passing, classes have huge rates of attrition.
At the University of Southern California Rossier School of Education, we pride ourselves on delivering high-quality master's-level programs online. I don’t think the problem is with online learning. Rather, we should see MOOCs for what they are so far: an easy way to dabble in a subject, maybe learn new material, maybe not, and sometimes with highly respected faculty. In my MOOC, I never saw my professor live online.
We must do more than put a camera in a lecture hall and put professors in a loosely moderated discussion forum. We must offer real-time interaction between professors and students, and between classmates. There must be learning objectives, not just topics to be covered, so students know where they’re headed academically. We must require students to be accountable and expect them to show a mastery of a subject beyond a "showing up" standard.
Those of us who deliver a real college experience online for credit are happy to share the many lessons we’ve learned. Because nobody wants to be a noncompleter.
Karen Symms Gallagher is dean of the University of Southern California Rossier School of Education.