Training

Learning To Use That New Hammer

I’m facilitating a workshop this week for a bunch of Learning 2.0 folks in Las Vegas. (No, I have no plans to be “teaching” or “training” — thanks for asking.)  The title I came up with is “Relax!  Everything You Know About Content Is Wrong…”

hammerYeah, part of getting sessions accepted is a catchy title — but I really believe that most everything we’ve taught our students about content in their formal educational history is wrong.  How we design it, how we deploy it, how they interact with it and how we judge if they’ve taken it in successfully.

So I spend a great deal of time nowadays talking to fellow learning designers about that, in the guise of showing them “new media tools” like Twitter and Facebook and NING and Wicker and Spooty and Fitzzle…  (Points will be given for those of you who realize which of those are made up gibberish.)

In reality, these things are just tools.  What we’re really doing is responding to the fact that there are better ways of dealing with today’s learners and their needs, and the existence of some of these new technologies is giving us a long overdue kick in the Kirkpatrick to encourage some change.

Here’s my list of what “old” content looks like:

  • I’m up HERE, you learners are out THERE
  • I know the answers.  You’re supposed to take them in from me.
  • My answers are the right ones.  Yours are not.
  • My content (the text book) is correct.  Your experience or theories are not valid.
  • We measure success on how well you can parrot back to me what I said.
  • Old, gray heads make the best choices about what to learn, when, and how.
  • You start here.  Then you do this, then this, then that.  Then you stop.
  • If I want your input, I’ll ask for it.  And then evaluate it.
  • You in the back — quit whispering. You’ll disturb others.
  • Here’s a list of work to do outside of class. I chose it.
  • These are the accepted resources and authorities. I chose them.
  • At the end, we’ll grade on a curve.  There will be winners and losers.
  • If you’re louder, you get noticed.  If you’re quiet, you don’t.
  • If you agree with my theories, you’ll get praised.  If you don’t, you won’t.
  • You should highlight the stuff that I say is important — it will be on the test.
  • Name in the upper left-hand corner.  Points given for neatness.

So — what did your classroom look like when you were in school?  My workshop at TechKnowledge 2010 (TK10) in Las Vegas this week will break every single one of these rules, I hope.

It should be total chaos.

Yada, Yada Yada. Blah, Blah, Blah. Get To The Point!

It has come to my attention that some of you didn’t get the memo.  You’re apparently unaware that we’re living in a world of 15-second TV commercials, 140-character tweets, and three-minute “long-form” videos on YouTube.

Nobody gives a rat’s ass about your context, your setup, your overview, your background, your rationale, your reasoning, your formative thinking, or the deductive path that you followed.  Except maybe your mom.  (And she’s lying, you know.)

You need to get to the point, right now.

If it’s a presentation, make it clear and easy to understand.  Here’s one of the opening slides I used last week to explain the talk I was giving:

smc_columbia1

No animations, no bullets, no fancy fonts and it stayed on the screen for about 60 seconds.  But it clearly outlined what folks would be hearing from me, and I referred back to it at least a dozen times in the next 45 minutes.

And while this is great advice for a presentation, it’s also pretty wonderful for blogging, picture captions, white papers and email.  Tell me early on what the reason is for the experience, and let me decide if I want to know more about the other stuff.

(Now as an experienced education professional, with a degree and all, that’s not the way I’d always prefer to work.  If I’ve got you locked in a room with me for an hour, I may spend some time setting up what we’re doing, giving you the “big picture”, or somehow providing context.  But if we’re working online, I’ve got to accept that your forefinger is itching to click that mouse button and move on to something involving either cute kittens or hamsters.)

As a test, hand your copy to a friend and give them two minutes.  Then take it away and ask them to tell you the one big thing that came out.  If it’s not the main point of what you’re doing, draw a big red X through what you’ve done, and start over.

No, I’m Not A “Coach” — And You Shouldn’t Be, Either

I’ve been following the discussion on my friend Havi’s blog about her aversion to being called a “coach” with great interest — because that’s one self-applied job description that still makes my skin crawl.  (Much like “Social Media Guru”, “Animal Psychic” and “Colonic Therapist”.)  Since I’ve spent most of my adult life in what’s called the Learning and Development pond, I get the wonderful opportunity to interact with people who have decided that they are coaches way more than I would like.

(To make things interesting, they keep changing the name of their discipline.  Recent ones have included “Human Potential” and “Human Capital” — bleech!)

Overall, the idea is that these folks have the power to remove your roadblocks and maximize your potential, while they actualize your internalized developmental possibilities which baseline the best practice modalities integral to moving to the next level as you break through your self-imposed limits.

Uh huh.

Now don’t get me wrong.  There is certainly a need to assist people as they struggle to improve on many fronts.  And there are lots of skilled folks in the world (like @Havi) who I would recommend you send big sacks of money to.

But “Coach” is such an imperfect metaphor.  Most sports metaphors suck, but this particular one sucks 1000%.  It comes to play, it shows up, it really comes down to any given day.

You see, in today’s athletics, “coaching” has become pretty much a lowly-paid guy who gives advice to highly-paid superstars.  Who then pretty much ignore that advice, and go ahead and do whatever they want.  Mostly to raise their personal stats, which increases their income and cements lucrative endorsement deals.

And in the corporate arena, where I work, “coaching” pretty much has become a lowly-paid manager trying to get lowly-paid employees to do the work of several people (who were laid off) for a company that really doesn’t care about them and sees them as interchangeable parts.

Yogi Berra was a Coach.  And he said that “You’ve got to be very careful if you don’t know where you’re going, because you might not get there.”

haviselma1008_whiteSo how about if you consider becoming a “Habits Educator” like Havi, or a Performance Facilitator, or a Supporter Of Those Who Wish To Be Amazing.

Just don’t coach.

The Only Ones With A Problem With Our Interface Are The Users

In a perfect world, we’d all create software and websites and knowledgebases and blogs and videos and e-learning and such that would be posted and then never be opened up to the most evil and destructive beings on the planet.

Users.

usersOur work would shine brightly, with buttons and links perfectly aligned, un-clicked and never seen, so that we’d never have to hear those annoying whining noises.  “I can’t make it do this” and “It won’t do that” and “It doesn’t have any of those” keep echoing in our heads at night, as we try to sleep.  Don’t they know that we’ve created perfection?

Users!

You can’t live with ‘em.  And you can’t kill ‘em, chop ‘em up, wrap ‘em in paper, and UPS ‘em to random people from your phone directory.  (At least according to last week’s version of “CSI: New York” you can’t.)

So what’s a poor coder to do?

You might think about doing a little usability testing.  It’s not really that hard, and if you integrate it from the beginning of your project it can really improve the final product.  The problem is that you (and your little Red Bull drinking buddies) really aren’t the target users.  You know too much about whatever it is that your software does.  So you’ll need to buy a couple of pizzas for a user group, show them some mock-ups, and then SHUT THE HELL UP as they try to complete some simple activities.

Video tape the action, and then bring it back to deconstruct.  Work a little further, and repeat.  And repeat.  And repeat.

Don’t know how to do a simple UI review?  Point your mousie over to http://www.useit.com and listen to Jakob Nielsen, the God of web design.  Do what he says.

Or hire an expert.  There are lots of good people available to hold your hand and make sure what you’re developing actually works for the poor fools who give you money.

Then you can buy more Red Bull, games, and a membership on Match.com.  Maybe even move out of Mom’s basement.

Why “Best Practices” Will Blow Up In Your Face

If I hear one more highly-paid consultant talking about “best practices” I may just have to drop kick them through the uprights on the practice field.  The whole idea is such a crock that I’m amazed anyone takes it seriously.

Here’s a 30-second video of the “Best Practice To Light Your Charcoal Grill Quickly”.  Take a look.

Will you be using this technique soon?  I won’t — unless I want to lose my deck, my wife, and melt my Weber Kettle down into slag.

The point (he has a point?) is that the concept of “Best Practice” assumes that we all share the same conditions, the same metrics for success, and the same risk/reward structure.  The guy in the video was only interested in how quickly he could get that charcoal going — so, for him, it truly was the “Best Practice”.

In my field, learning, I see the same thing happen.  Someone comes out with a list of “Best Practices In e-Learning” with no context.  They suggest that you offer multiple methods for learners to take in the information.  They suggest that you include rich animations, videos, talking parrots and streaming video.  They suggest that you comply with SCORM, NORM, and NNPT. Not to mention offering versions for the deaf, the visually impaired, and those who are allergic to keyboard dust mites.

Uh huh.  My development budget is $250 this quarter.  Not gonna happen.

The whole concept of a “best” anything is a crock, anyway.  What’s the “best” car?  Well, I’m partial to the Jaguar XJS V-12, but it’s hard to haul plywood home in it from Home Depot.

xjsv12

So why do people keep publishing this dreck?  Because we want to THINK we can come up with some kind of one-size-fits all listing of answers that won’t require you to actually know anything about the discipline involved to be an expert.  Sure would be nice:

Jet Pilot
“Best Practice if engines go out, hit big red “fix it” button on control panel.”

Neurosurgeon
“Best Practice if patient acts nutters, stick long steel rod up nose and stir around.”

Hockey Player
“Best Practice to score goals, hit puck thingy into net thingy.”

The harsh truth is that there ARE no real “Best Practices”.  Unless you come up with an exhaustive list of conditions and specifications — developed by an expert who understands both the situation and the discipline — and even then, all you’re getting is an educated guess.

Fire your consultants.  Hire someone who’s actually done it, multiple times, successfully.

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