Dewey and My Tech Lifestyle

Binary Contemplation from Flickr: Goodnub

Lisa: This post is not directly connected to the topics we've been looking at in class - but is rather a response to some of the ways I've been working and thinking over the last few years.

I’ve had this growing agitation or frustration lately about my use of technology, and in particular, my newly developed addiction to blogging and twittering. I’ve been a ‘heavy user’ of RSS feeds for a number of years, but it’s only been in the last few months that I’ve really started to become an active online participant. Let me start by saying it’s been a very interesting an eye-opening experience, and I’m excited about the potential of my growing Personal Network.

However, I’ve also felt a growing lack of depth in my thinking. I used to be a heavy book reader, loving the experience of picking up large tomes of literature or philosophy and getting lost in the depth of an intriguing character or well-developed idea. I used to enjoy finding a new author, reading as much as I could, discovering biographical information to help me understand the place from where the words were coming.

But over the last number of years, this habit has fallen away. I think it has to do with a number of factors, the busyness of teaching or the (perceived) need to keep up with emerging trends. But I’m starting to wonder if it also has to do with the way I consume most of my information now – through digital media.

I remember loving RSS feeds, when I finally figured them out. I immediately subscribed to a large number of blogs, and loved (and still do) getting the daily influx of new ideas, tools and websites. Checking my Google reader is still part of my daily routine, and plays a significant role in my professional growth. I’m now having the same experience using Twitter, as there’s an even greater draw to an instant connection with fascinating people and ideas.

However, a nagging voice has begun in my head. I sense that my learning experience is getting shallower. I feel I am gathering a ton of information, but I’m not gaining much deep understanding. I’m feeling that the overwhelming amount of intellectual and professional stimulation is both addictive and potentially damaging to me. I don’t blame the technology for this – I usually see tools as ethically neutral – but rather my own attitude toward them.

I’m realizing that for myself, it much easier to surf across the ever-growing wealth of new content than it is to dig down and wrestle with the key questions. All day long my RSS reader and Twitter inbox are full of new links/sites/tools for me to play with – and I find that experience very satisfying. But it also feels lazy to me.

The last couple days I’ve been reading John Dewey. As a graduate student, Dewey’s ideas continually surface in assigned reading and seminar discussions. While I’ve had a general sense and attraction to Dewey’s educational philosophy, I’ve been wanted to dig deeper into some of his writings. I’ve had the sense that in his work I would find a voice to help me develop my practice more fully. In addition to that, since I’m immersed in inquiry-based learning, I want to develop a sense of the heritage or lineage of that pedagogical method.

So I start to read “How We Think” (1910), and within the first few chapters, Dewey is clearly speaking to me from a century ago. Dewey’s asserts a number of elements or characteristic of thinking, and makes the basic point that the act of thinking is the natural tendency for humans to make inferences or possible suggestions based on sensory perception. Thinking is natural, in fact so natural that Dewey states, “it is not we who think, in any actively responsible sense; thinking is rather something that happens in us.” (34)

Interesting. Thinking is like breathing. All humans do it – even without thinking.

In terms of education, what I’m gathering from Dewey so far is that teachers cannot teach students to think. They do it anyway. Rather, students should be engaged in activities and experiences that model good thinking.

Dewey believes that the ability to think well rests in the quality of inferences or suggestions that a particular person produces. Thinking exist on a spectrum, from a mindless approach to reflective inquiry. And the reflective inquiry is what separates strong thinkers from weak thinkers. Dewey highlights three dimensions of inferences: ease or promptness, extent or variety, and depth or persistence. It’s the last one of the three that gives voice to some of my experience with Web 2.0.

“Facts, whether narrow or organized, and conclusions suggested by them, whether many or few, do not constitute, even when combined, reflective thought.”(39) In a sense, this is my experience with the overwhelming influx of information and ideas through my online connections. I have no shortage of “facts” – but do have a shortage of reflective thought.

Dewey goes on: “The suggestions must be organized; they must be arranged with reference to one another and with reference to the facts on which they depend for proof.” This is where the work comes in – and the work that I have not been doing. I’ve been gathering, bookmarking, tagging, skimming, blogging, twittering the onslaught of information that has come across my screen over the last few years. But have I organized it, reflected on it, sat with it, dug into it? That’s the quiet nagging voice that is writing today

As I read, Dewey gives direction to me. A reflective inquiry should strive for continuity, which “means variety and change of ideas combined into a single steady trend moving toward a unified conclusion.” I love that Dewey is not after rigidity or fixed conclusions, but opens the space up for a ‘variety and change of ideas.’

“Holding the mind to a subject I like holding a ship to its course; it implies constant change of place combined with unity of direction. All kinds of varied and incompatible suggestions may sprout and be followed in their growth, and yet thinking be consistent and orderly, provided each one of the suggestions is viewed in relation to the main topic.” (40)

So this is where the work comes in. I’m realizing that merely gathering information doesn’t cut it. I need a course, a direction, a final goal to which I guide and steer my inquiry. I sense I need more consistency in my thinking, more reflection in what I consume, and more time to sit with fewer ideas. I also think I need to pick up books more.

Overall, I think I need balance.