I have volunteered to be a guest speaker in classes this term. Yesterday, I talked to the students in Roxana Marachi's educational psychology class at San Jose State.
Papert was one of the founders of constructionism, which builds on Piaget's theories of constructivism — that is, learning occurs through the reconstruction of knowledge rather than a transmission of knowledge. In constructionism, learning is most effective when the learner constructs something meaningful.
I have often argued to students, only in part to be perverse, that one cannot understand the history of education in the United States during the twentieth century unless one realizes that Edward L. Thorndike won and John Dewey lost.
Thorndike won, and Dewey lost. You can't understand the history of education unless you realize this. I don't think you can understand the history of education technology without realizing this either. And I'd go one step further: you cannot understand the history of education technology in the United States during the twentieth century – and on into the twenty-first – unless you realize that Seymour Papert lost and B. F. Skinner won.
But behaviorism did not go away. And I'd argue that didn't go away because of the technologies of behavior that Skinner (and his students) promulgated.
Edward L. Thorndike was an educational psychology professor at Columbia University who developed his theory of learning based on his research on animal behavior – perhaps you've heard of his idea of the "learning curve," the time it took for animals to escape his puzzle box after multiple tries. And John Dewey was a philosopher whose work at the University of Chicago Lab School was deeply connected with that of other social reformers in Chicago – Jane Addams and Hull House, for example. Dewey was committed to educational inquiry as part of democratic practices of community; Thorndike's work, on the other hand, happened largely in the lab but helped to stimulate the growing science and business of surveying and measuring and testing students in the early twentieth century. You can think of the victory that Condliffe Lagemann speaks of, in part, as the triumph of multiple choice testing over project-based inquiry.
Skinner won; Papert lost. Thorndike won; Dewey lost. Behaviorism won.
Folks will point to things like maker-spaces to argue that progressive education is thriving. But I maintain, even in the face of all the learn-to-code brouhaha, that multiple choice tests have triumphed over democratically-oriented inquiry. Indeed, when we hear technologists champion "personalized learning," it's far more likely that what they envision draws on Skinner's ideas, not Dewey's.
B. J. Fogg and his Persuasive Technology Lab at Stanford is often touted by those in Silicon Valley as one of the "innovators" in this "new" practice of building "hooks" and "nudges" into technology. These folks like to point to what's been dubbed colloquially "The Facebook Class" – a class Fogg taught in which students like Kevin Systrom and Mike Krieger, the founders of Instagram, and Nir Eyal, the author of Hooked, "studied and developed the techniques to make our apps and gadgets addictive," as Wired put it in a recent article talking about how some tech executives now suddenly realize that this might be problematic.
(It's worth teasing out a little – but probably not in this talk, since I've rambled on so long already – the difference, if any, between "persuasion" and "operant conditioning" and how they imagine to leave space for freedom and dignity. Rhetorically and practically.)
If we look more broadly – and Skinner surely did – these sorts of technologies of behavior don't simply work to train and condition individuals; many technologies of behavior are part of a broader attempt to reshape society. "For your own good," the engineers try to reassure us. "For the good of the global community," as Zuckerberg would say. "For the sake of the children."