What is the future of MOOCs and how will they blend into the higher education landscape — specifically, into the community college landscape?
The "deMOOCratization" of higher education content, making courses readily available to millions of individuals who can sign up for courses online, developed and taught by faculty from the most elite institutions – Harvard University, the University of Michigan and Massachusetts Institute of Technology, just to name a few -- is now a reality. And no "entry" requirements needed. It is not difficult to understand the appeal. Now anyone can participate in education proffered by a name-brand university.
While it is too early to measure the long-term potential of these cyborg courses, MOOCs already have reignited conversations around student access, content, the delivery of content, and student learning outcomes. In some instances, policy makers and educators are looking to MOOCs to fill gaps resulting from the scaling back of course offerings due to budget cuts and high student demand driven by the last economic recession, enrollment growth and accelerating demographic shifts. California is a case in point. Governor Jerry Brown has shown strong interest in MOOCs and online learning as potential stopgaps against enrollment strain and course shortages plaguing California’s community colleges and students.
But do MOOCs represent a panacea for community colleges? Data from the Community College Research Center (CCRC) at Teachers College, Columbia University offer a cautionary tale about traditional online courses now being used at community colleges.
The result of a longitudinal study of students in the Washington Community and Technical Colleges dating back to 2004, the CCRC study raises serious questions about the efficacy of online learning — and by implication, MOOCs — for community college students.
The CCRC study found that community college students enrolled in online courses were more likely to drop out of or fail those courses. Researchers controlled for the customary factors that can predict success, but the fact remains that students struggling academically in college are most at risk for failure in online courses. While many other factors influence success in online learning, a fundamental question remains: can such courses replicate the enduring effects of student and faculty interaction — particularly in the many special circumstances typical of community colleges?
And in regard to community colleges’ greatest challenge – remedial education – MOOCs with their high-powered instruction and fast-paced delivery, but devoid of real-time faculty-student interaction, appear to offer little if any promise in helping students with the greatest needs overcome their academic deficits.
At this point, we have more questions than answers, including those related to the very nature of MOOCs. What exactly are they? It is difficult to quantify the seemingly eclectic collection of courses into a program of study, assess their relationship to quality, and most important, their impact on student learning. More vexing perhaps, what is the relationship between MOOCs and student success and completion? Already, significant numbers of students who sign up for MOOCs fail to complete them. The latter question is of particular concern to community colleges, but also to higher education in general because of the new imperative to increase educational attainment rates in America.
While MOOCs have garnered considerable attention in the media and within higher education, it is premature to draw any conclusions about their eventual landing place in the community college ecosystem. But thanks to the extraordinary work of the Liberal Learning & America’s Promise initiative by the American Association of Colleges and Universities, we would do well to refresh our memory banks about the hallmark practices that result in student success and achievement.
Through AAC&U efforts, we can revisit those timeless values that undergird effective student learning, dating at least as far back as Socrates and the Socratic method of inquiry. These values include hands-on, rigorous learning opportunities, programs with purpose and cumulative by design, a learning-centric community and emphasis on mentoring, and student/faculty interaction and feedback. We in the community college sector have embraced these same values while at the same time recommitting to fostering student success and completion.
It is important to demystify MOOCs, to separate the wheat from the chaff; that will happen, but we aren’t there yet. In the meantime, most community colleges are already offering online education, which has proven, even when combined with traditional resources like staffing, tutoring and faculty interaction, not to work well for low-income and educationally disadvantaged students. It’s as though we’ve forgotten the digital divide still exists, and nowhere more so than for community college students.
The CCRC data suggest that MOOCs cannot simply be substituted for more traditional courses, regardless of credit-worthiness, when our goal as educational institutions is increased student performance and academic progression through community colleges and not simply ticking requirements off a list regardless of outcome.
Moreover, what’s fundamentally different about MOOCs is that their content is developed by faculty and experts who are external to the "home" institution. As a result, while anyone can sign up to take a MOOC, no credit is given unless the MOOC is recognized by some credit-granting entity. That’s where the American Council on Education has jumped in.
ACE has thus far approved a number of MOOCs offered through Coursera for college credit. This is one step toward an answer of whether a student will be able to apply credit earned through MOOCs to specific college degree programs where a student is matriculated. This raises larger, yet unresolved credit transfer issues and articulation agreements, issues we in the community college sector are seeking to address through the Voluntary Framework for Accountability. The fundamental question for MOOCs is how they will be integrated into community college curriculums and degree programs. And, who will determine their quality and "fit" vis-à-vis with community college curriculums?
Returning to California again, Senate President Pro Tem Darrell Steinberg introduced legislation to create a process for awarding credit for online courses. Senator Steinberg’s legislation, Senate Bill 520, would create a "statewide network of faculty-approved online college courses for credit." The stated goal is to supplement the current shortage of classroom seats with online learning opportunities to allow more students, and in particular community college students, to further their studies. The legislation has ignited a controversy around the mechanism for approving courses for credit. Specifically, a nine-member appointed faculty council would review and approve the courses for credit under the proposal.
Senator Steinberg’s legislation is the latest flashpoint in the current debate surrounding MOOCs — namely, who decides the quality and applicability of the content relative to a college’s curriculum and its faculty? The resolution of this issue leads directly to questions of institutional governance, accreditation, accountability, faculty roles and responsibilities, and ultimately to institutional autonomy. There are good reasons for having institutional faculty involved in the review of curricular content, which has been the model in higher education since its inception.
Democratic learning is central to the community college mission — access to higher education has always been the unique hallmark of community colleges. If the MOOC revolution turns out to be more than a "DeMOOCrazy" experiment with technology, then community college governing boards will need to weigh in on MOOCs — and the sooner the better. The discussions won’t be easy, and even coming up with the best questions to ask at this point is a challenge. But when community college trustees delve into this new world, I hope that they balance issues of demand and expediency with those relating to quality, accountability, institutional autonomy, and above everything else, student success and completion.
J. Noah Brown is president and CEO of the Association of Community College Trustees and author of First in the World: Community Colleges and America’s Future.
The recent announcement from the California State University System regarding its embrace of edX massive open online courses (MOOCs) is interesting and depressing at the same time. As with many aspects of the MOOC phenomenon, it comes packaged with good and bad aspects bundled up together. Instructors will offer a "special 'flipped' version of an electrical engineering course ... where students watch online lectures from Harvard and MIT at home." So the good is the flipped part because it's more interactive and dynamic and there's less lecture-based didacticism in the classroom due to watching videos at home? Really? The 1970s just called: they want their Open University courses back.
This model perhaps moves the Cal State system forward as it offers more accessibility to content for working adults in a hybrid format. I wish they would just step away from the MOOC terminology, which is, let’s be honest, copying and lending out a videotape in another name. MOOCs have been so beaten up and stolen for self-serving means that the original premise has been lost. As Stephen Downes, one of the forefathers of original MOOCs, stated in a recent blog, "These arguments miss the point of the MOOC, and that point is, precisely, to make education available to people who cannot afford to pay the cost to travel to and attend these small in-person events. Having one instructor for 20-50 people is expensive, and most of the world cannot afford that cost."
The MOOC spirit has been eroded by institutions and individuals who see an easy way to sound (or just seem) tech-online savvy. MOOCs are being used by many institutions to avoid actually having to discuss issues like ownership of curriculum, scalability and strategic online growth. In a (MOOC) swoosh, difficult governance issues regarding intellectual property, scalability and ownership are gone. Corrupted MOOCs circumvent the need for anything other than talking (lecture-style) to a camera with the hope that the "nice young guys and gals at CoursEdXra" drop me into a backdrop of the Parthenon and/or animate the background with pen cast versions of napkin sketches. There’s no building of an online community, facilitation of discussion threads, not even grading of papers, just, "I’m done — here’s my MOOC!"
MOOCs were originally intended to educate the Masses (M): hundreds of thousands who “cannot afford to enroll or travel to classes.” They were all Open (O): Open Content provided or supported by Saylor.org, Creative Commons and others. Now Open no longer means open resources — it has been unofficially changed to mean "open to anyone." Don’t get me wrong. Being more available to more people isn’t in itself a bad thing, but it does move the focus away from the original intent, which was to provide free, quality educational materials. The second O stands for Online — unless it’s a hybrid offered in a flipped classroom in which students have watched a video before coming to class (sigh). C = Course. Well, I guess one out of four is not bad if 10 percent retention is acceptable.
Original MOOCs (oMOOCs) were free, or at least extremely affordable, fully online, well-crafted and contained a lot of interesting pedagogy and instructional design. The target demographic was the underserved, both nationally and internationally. Per Downes, they were "not designed to serve the missions of the elite colleges and universities...." but rather "designed to undermine them, and make those missions obsolete."
Hijacked MOOCs are flagship (institution)-led, starting to cost (increasingly), often hybrid, faculty headshot to camera, tech sophistication layered on, little-to-zero impact on faculty member revisiting / learning? pedagogy (in any format) and not very massive. They're mostly taken by education technologists, already-qualified individuals and Tom Friedman.
It’s the strategic analysis and "nuanced discussion" that I want us all back to. Proper MOOCs may work for some, others may just choose to use open online materials and some may even have a mission to support affordable education for underserved communities (my favorite). But let’s not kid ourselves. Co-opting a MOOC label does not make an offering edgy. Get strategy and rationale nailed first, worry about the acronym later.
Kevin Bell is the executive director for online curriculum development and deployment at Northeastern University's College of Professional Studies. This essay is adopted from a posting at the blog Aspire.
Virtually everywhere you turn, somebody is promoting the idea that technology is a – if not the -- solution to educational completion. Panelists at conferences, politicians, foundation officials and journalists/bloggers promote the view. It is also being supported loudly by the checkbooks of the venture capitalist community. College completion is, without a doubt, a serious problem. In fact, for the first time, the current generation of Americans entering the work force is less educated than the generation that is now retiring.
I run an educational technology company, and I read the articles, sit on the panels, and see the venture money flowing. But I have to admit, my first thought is: “Might technology be the problem rather than the solution?”
College retention and completion is a growing and serious problem in the U.S. However, understanding how technology helps in education, particularly higher education, can be very difficult to identify and measure. When searching for technology solutions, we should consider the concept of appropriate technology -- using the right amount of technology to solve a core problem.
Does it address the core problem?
Is it scalable?
Is it maintainable?
Is it affordable?
We already know several non-technology solutions that are working. Most administrators will agree that good teachers, engaging instruction, individual mentoring and personal advising can directly affect retention and student performance. The problem with these known solutions is cost, time and measurability. Faculty and staff are often burdened with administrative and mundane tasks that infringe upon effective student engagement.
This presents a real opportunity for technology. However, it must be put to work in the right way.
Rather than looking for technology to replace or augment the teacher/student relationship, we can look for ways technology can eliminate everything that is NOT the teacher/student relationship – reducing time spent on administrative tasks and increasing the information available about the individual students and their needs. I call this the "other ed tech."
If technology can free up time for teachers by helping to find open educational resources, streamlining grading, simplifying student/parent communication, and eliminating HR tasks, it will create more time for student interaction. If technology can automate student advising communication and help to identify students at risk it will create more targeted opportunities for effective intervention. If technology can eliminate administrative and institutional overhead it will help to create more effective time and funds for student-facing services. (Disclosure: My company, IData, Inc., helps colleges with some of these things.)
To understand my reaction to the push for technology as a panacea in education, I reflect nearly 20 years ago to when I volunteered as a teacher at St. Cecilia Mautuma Secondary, a small, rural school in the highlands of Kenya. It was a new, four-room, secondary boarding school for girls. This school had almost nothing in terms of technology – a handful of textbooks shared between classes of 25 students, chalkboards that never seemed to have chalk and an hour of electricity from a car battery to run lights so students could study at night. A number of my friends in the U.S. suggested computers or software to help the girls of Mautuma. The reality was that they needed more textbooks, more teachers and possibly … more chalk.
My time in Kenya introduced me to many Peace Corps volunteers. The Peace Corps operates under the principle of appropriate technology – loosely defined as technology that is locally affordable with locally made/maintained tools that greatly reduce labor requirements and provide new opportunities for productivity.
In essence, if I had dropped a laptop in the middle of Kenya in 1993, it would not have solved anything for those students. There was no electricity, no Internet, no way to fix it and no way to share the resource. Internet technology would not have helped learning in rural Kenya in 1993 because it was not scalable, it was not locally maintainable, it was too expensive and it did not solve the core problems of not enough teachers, not enough books, not enough light to study at night and not enough parents that could afford the modest annual school fees.
Twenty years later, is there a correlation between my experience in Kenya and the current trends in educational technology? Clearly, 21st-century U.S. higher education is different, but we should still consider scalability, maintainability, affordability and whether the solution is solving the core problem.
As education technology remains a hot topic with conversations surrounding MOOCs, big data, mobile apps and open educational resources, we should ask ourselves the following questions:
Are we throwing the right solutions at the problems of higher education?
Do we even understand the problems?
Is there a plan?
Does it help to fulfill the goals of the strategic plan?
As schools look for a technology plan, they should focus on the goals outlined in their strategic plan and look for innovation on processes that free up resources that we can use for things we know work.
As active participants in the education world, we should always be looking for ways to appropriately apply technology. There are real problems, and a good start would be to focus on saving time and money. Budget is one of the biggest barriers to giving teachers and staff the one-on-one time needed to keep students on track. There are a large number of tasks that are done by individual schools that could benefit from cost-sharing with peer institutions. Projects like the Predictive Analytics in Retention (PAR) Framework are a great example of multiple schools collaborating together to build a single (and better) retention analytics platform.
Ed tech projects can be time and money losers for a school. The guiding principal should be to look carefully at every dollar or hour spent NOT focused on working with students or advancing your strategic plan. If any of those hours or dollars can be eliminated with technology, that seemsappropriate.
Brian S. Parish is owner and president of IData, Inc., which helps colleges manage administrative data.
Although massive open online courses have been gathering substantial recent attention, future histories of education will likely only note them as a harbinger of change or transitional step into an educational model that is organized around learning. In most cases, MOOCs operate on a grand scale but use a traditional form in which a faculty member (or two) is responsible for most aspects of course design, delivery, and assessment. The real threat to traditional higher education embraces a more radical vision that removes faculty from the organizational center and uses cognitive science to organize the learning around the learner. Such models exist now.
Consider, for example the implications of Carnegie Mellon’s Open Learning Initiative. More than 10 years ago, Herb Simon, the Carnegie Mellon University professor and Nobel laureate, declared, "Improvement in postsecondary education will require converting teaching from a solo sport to a community-based research activity." The Open Learning Initiative (OLI) is an outgrowth of that vision and has been striving to realize it for more than a decade.
Teams of cognitive scientists, technology consultants, designers, and disciplinary specialists are designing interactive, online courses that are available now from OLI. The program uses the latest research in cognitive science to inform course design, and it tests each element of the design by evaluating its effectiveness in promoting student learning. As more students take courses and the integrated assessments, the OLI team gathers more data that allow team members to further refine the course. Creating such courses is capital-intensive, but since students interact solely with the computer when taking the course, the marginal cost to deliver the course to each additional student is minimal.
OLI in its current incarnation is a proof-of-concept endeavor, and in 2012, Ithaka S+R published findings that demonstrate it has succeeded. A rigorous study comparing student learning in a traditional face-to-face statistics course to that of students in a hybrid OLI course found that the hybrid courses were at least as effective in promoting student understanding of statistics as traditional courses. Further, students in the hybrid courses learned as much even though they spent significantly less time in learning activities, which echoes earlier work by OLI showing that Carnegie Mellon students learned statistics with OLI in half the time that students in traditional courses did. We should note that the hybrid courses were not offered fully online. Students worked through the material using OLI’s online interactive materials and met as a group once weekly with a course tutor.
With the Ithaka S+R finding, OLI has reached a milestone, and it is reasonable to assume that continued investment in refining its courses will yield additional gains in student learning or efficiency. We can howl in protest, but the question is no longer whether computer-based, intelligent agents can prompt learning of some material at least as well as instructor-focused courses. The question is whether the computer-based version can become even more effective than traditional models, and the implications for higher education are sobering.
Let us suppose, for example, that Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU), which is already pioneering competency-based credentialing, partners with OLI to create New Way College (NWC) within SNHU. New Way College supports community-based educational initiatives through which students can earn an associate degree while paying significantly less than is available to eligible students receiving the maximum Pell Grant. (I want to stress that this is a hypothetical example generated to demonstrate how things might play out. It is not based on any plan announced by SNHU or on any inside information from SNHU or the other real organizations mentioned in this essay.)
With backing from foundations or venture capitalists, NWC will pay OLI $25 million to develop 30 interactive, online courses that will form the basis of NWC’s educational program. In addition, NWC will provide OLI $40 for each student enrolled in an NWC course in exchange for ongoing course development and support. The courses themselves are taught in hybrid fashion in classes with no more than 20 students. Classes are sponsored in local communities by host organizations. Any nonprofit or educational organization — a public library, YMCA, school district, religious or service organization — could apply to be a host organization. Hosts would be responsible for providing a meeting space, recruiting classes of students, and identifying tutors for each class but not traditional faculty members.
To support program administration, NWC might then forge a long-term contract with Pearson Education, making Pearson responsible for recruiting, assessing, and supporting host organizations. Tutors are vetted, trained, and evaluated by Pearson to meet standards established by NWC, although host institutions would be responsible for paying those tutors who were not volunteers. As part of its services, Pearson would run a social media site that included tools for students to rate individual hosts and tutors, much like eBay and Amazon rate sellers in their marketplaces. The same site would also provide pass rates broken down by course so that prospective students could identify effective hosts near them.
Pearson would provide assessments aligned with NWC’s standards and a secure test site for mid-course and end-of-term assessments that would determine whether a student earned credit for the course. Classes would typically span 12 weeks and have limited enrollment to ensure that every student received the support he or she needed to succeed. Students would pay $100 per credit for courses, with the standard course carrying four credits and 64 credits required for an associate degree. Students who needed no remedial work could easily complete the program in two years and pay the minimum tuition of $6,400.
At the scale typical of most higher education institutions, this model makes no sense whatsoever, but at web scale, the model is compelling: Students would pay $400 to enroll in a typical four-credit class section, and courses would be designed so that there are minimal additional costs beyond online access. Of that $400, we assume $40 goes to OLI, $120 goes to the host institution, Pearson collects $200 for its services, and SNHU keeps $40. A 15-person class would generate $600 for OLI, $1,800 for the host (some of which might be used to pay a tutor), $3,000 for Pearson, and $400 for SNHU. If NWC offered 30 four-credit courses in a typical year — each of which enrolled a minimum of 10,000 students annually — OLI and SNHU would each collect at least $12 million in annual revenues,
Pearson would collect $60 million, and local hosts would collectively receive $36 million. Since the marginal cost of adding additional students would continue to decline as the number of students grows, early entrants using this model could quickly attain market dominance, much like Amazon, Apple, Walmart, Google, and eBay dominate much of their respective markets. If NWC could achieve similar market dominance in the two-year college market, annual revenues to be split among the partners would exceed $1 billion. A much larger sum might be lost by community colleges and other institutions, which charge more for courses leading to the same credits.
By unbundling the learning experience — separating local support, course design, delivery, assessment, administrative support, and advising — the NWC model achieves superior outcomes at lower cost, at least when outcomes are measured by exam or other task performance. Local organization and student support is provided by entities with deep roots in their communities, missions aligned with the educational endeavor, existing meeting spaces that are often underutilized and could readily be used to house weekly class meetings, access to volunteer or relatively low-cost tutors to provide student support, and budget constraints that create incentives to leverage these resources to market and support classes for their communities. A public library with an appropriate meeting space and quality volunteers who would be willing and able to support a class in exchange for $500 per class could expect to earn $1,000 per course after accounting for incidentals. A robust program offering 10 or more courses annually could afford to support a part-time program administrator.
Through OLI, expert teams design and deliver course content, assess course effectiveness, and continuously refine the interactive online tools to optimize student learning. Logistics, independent and verifiable testing of student learning, marketing, and social media tools for community-sourced assessment of host institutions and tutors are outsourced to a corporation with expertise and facilities that can sustain that work. The sponsoring college or university provides curricular structure, advising services, student tracking through its student information system, access to accreditation and federal financial aid, and legitimacy that connects the endeavor to the larger higher education landscape. Students can earn essential credentials in a supportive program whose standards would be widely understood and appreciated.
What is missing from this picture are professors at the center of course design, delivery, and assessment. Some might argue that is its fatal flaw, others that it is the mark of its genius. I consider it a reminder that other realities than the one in which we now live are possible. Should NWC or a similar organization gain market dominance and public acceptance for delivering two-year degrees, Clayton Christensen’s model of disruption suggests it will move up market and take on the bachelor degree, which could underwrite the demise of any four-year college that was unable to articulate its value apart from the credential its students earn for passing exams.
If those of us at liberal arts colleges believe there is something of value in our current model, something that cannot be replicated by online programs in which students interact primarily with a machine rather than with an instructor, then we need to articulate what that is and demonstrate its value. Something essential is lost when the news industry is unbundled and newspapers, which historically had the resources to support extensive reporting staffs, are replaced by online news sources with much smaller budgets, and journalists find it hard to support themselves and their families by exercising their craft. Bemoaning that loss and advocating for journalists’ crucial civic role has not stopped the steady erosion of the news industry and the livelihoods of those who work in it. Traditional higher education, faculty, and others who work in the higher education face similar threats. We would be wise to consider how to respond while there is still time.
Richard Holmgren is chief information officer and associate dean of the college at Allegheny College.