Last month, I suggested we separate hype from reality—not so much to criticize distance learning, but to seek an even higher ideal. Much of what is thrust under the umbrella of distance learning isn’t conducted at much distance, isn’t well supported and limits opportunities for institution-wide collaboration and innovation. ...]]>

Last month, I suggested we separate hype from reality—not so much to criticize distance learning, but to seek an even higher ideal. Much of what is thrust under the umbrella of distance learning isn’t conducted at much distance, isn’t well supported and limits opportunities for institution-wide collaboration and innovation. Distance learning should be an exciting appeal, rather than just a pragmatic expediency—a positive good in itself, not a necessary evil. Settling for a low standard for online courses only validates the views of the skeptics, and justifies the doom-and-gloom malaise of those with pastoral memories of a higher learning that perhaps never was.

I offer a more aspirational definition of distance learning than simply deflecting class time to online activities: Reaching out beyond a region (nationally and even internationally) and providing a substantial investment in faculty and student support, an academic institution provides a full educational experience and learning community entirely online—worthy of the reputation and integrity of that institution.

Institutional resistance to online learning has been melting away during these recessionary times, as schools seek ways to address enrollment pressures without increasing faculty or classrooms. But the test for online learning should be based as much on learning efficacy as financial efficiency. Seeking comparability in learning outcomes should be the baseline standard. Even that understates the potential advantages that an online environment might create for faculty and students.

Faculty familiarity with technology should not be an advantage for some, but a generic function provided pervasively for the benefit of all. From our firsthand experience, we see examples of what a substantive and systematic distance education commitment can create. For example, instead of a faculty member just developing something that is used in one course, one professor, with significant support, developed a much more robust study of Boston’s Big Dig—with the idea that its use would transcend that one professor and that one course. The professor knew in advance that this component would have more utility and substance than just for his own immediate purposes. This investment in course development allows many different features of the Big Dig to be explored, and then potentially used as part of a “library” of tools by other faculty.

One program’s innovation can be applied to another: A Socratic technique for a law program worked beautifully for management case studies. Through a common platform and array of support services, courses can have a common look and feel, without the creative burden falling on the individual instructor.

With a collective commitment to distance learning and instructional technology, advances can be shared across an institution. Using “green screens” for faculty lectures, faculty can speak and illustrate at the same time. Well-constructed course materials that faculty devoted dozens of hours to developing can be archived in a media library for others to tap in future courses.

I have yet to meet a professor who hasn’t felt that teaching online makes for better in-class teaching. Opportunities abound to re-engineer the traditional classroom experience, to use technical tools to take some work out of the class setting, and to better appreciate that learning doesn’t best occur through one-way lecturing but through active student involvement—all powerful distance learning lessons that redound to the conventional classroom.

Student services can be pooled as well. A hotline for remote students can cover students’ various time zones and their weekend queries. Staff can provide webinars and discreetly monitor courses to check in with students at key points in the semester and provide quick responses to problems. Crisis intervention takes many forms; in one case, a staffer alertly caught a student posting bigoted offensive comments on a course discussion board. A central office can send discs and files to parts of the world with low bandwidth—for example, to soldiers deployed in the mountains of Afghanistan. When one Port-au-Prince student’s routine trips to Miami to take his exams were disrupted by the various Haitian crises, staff arranged for off-cycle proctored exams. Doctoral qualifying examinations have been administered in real time with students and faculty scattered in various locales. Deaf students experience distance learning through closed captioning. The opportunities to accommodate students’ needs are boundless and the examples inspirational.

Serendipitous community-building is perhaps the most exciting byproduct of a robust online environment. Rather than the typical ships passing in the night, part-time students get to know one another as they progress through a common curriculum, regardless of their busy lives and competing demands. And the potential for student diversity is far greater as distance learning expands the school’s sphere of influence beyond the limits of local homogeneity. We have built virtual space for students to network outside their course work. In one case, a course on the biology of food led some students to coauthor a class cookbook; in another, IT students designed their own career advising network; and another group created virtual “pizza and beer” gatherings across the U.S. to stay connected via Skype. Our students then tap formal university events and milestones as opportunities to congregate and finally meet one another in person.

Though concealed within the data, these are truly exciting times for recreating and redefining the learning process—through the roles faculty play, the opportunities to test new tools and techniques, the access and interaction of students across diverse locales and lifestyles, and the reach of institutions beyond their narrow borders. The future of distance learning is more about creating community than exploiting technology, more about enhancing education than enrollments—and even more about academic courage, leadership and innovation. The opportunities are endless, constrained only by our own imagination.

Jay A. Halfond is dean of Metropolitan College and Extended Education at Boston University.

G. K. Chesterton famously once said: “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and not tried.” This, I believe, applies to distance learning as well. There is far too much self-congratulatory hyperbole about the growth and pervasiveness of online learning – which exaggerates reality and overlooks the true revolution ...]]>

G. K. Chesterton famously once said: “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and not tried.” This, I believe, applies to distance learning as well. There is far too much self-congratulatory hyperbole about the growth and pervasiveness of online learning – which exaggerates reality and overlooks the true revolution occurring less visibly.

Much of what is shoved under the rubric of distance learning is not conducted at a distance, doesn’t attract new learners to these institutions, and isn’t terribly well supported by the schools boasting large online enrollments.

The most dramatic, frequently quoted, and perhaps embellished statistics come from the Sloan survey of more than 2,500 colleges and universities, who claim that more than one in four students took at least one course online. Almost five million students at any one time were learning online. This definition of online assumes at least 80% of the content occurs outside class time, thus measuring a shift from the classroom to the computer, but not necessarily a complete leap from a local to a virtual campus.

Should you opt to confront one of the wizards of Oz claiming large numbers of online enrollees, or giddy about the ubiquity of distance learning, here are a few questions guaranteed to unnerve them:

How many students do you actually have enrolled exclusively online? I have asked this question of leaders of some of the major institutions in the distance learning business. The typical answer is they do not know, nor even think to track this information, since online courses are simply a convenience and option offered to their existing student population.

How many students taking online courses actually live at a distance where they couldn’t ever commute to your campus? “Distance” learning is largely a misnomer: Few institutions attract students beyond their catchment area through online offerings, nor do they even try.

How many academic degree programs do you have fully committed to distance students in which the complete menu of required courses is guaranteed to be available online? Many institutions offer random web-based courses, scheduled sporadically, subject to faculty whims.

How do you provide faculty with assistance to develop their online courses? (By now, you are making the boaster squirm a bit, as you shift the questioning to support for distance learning.)

What is your staff size relative to the number of online courses offered? Do you employ instructional designers and media and graphics specialists to shadow the faculty, or do you just provide an online tutorial for faculty to work self-sufficiently with the learning management system? Distance learning has become a laissez faire crapshoot—a technological tool to be used whenever and however one chooses.

How does your institution establish and maintain academic standards, expectations and quality in the online arena? How do you know that students receive a comparable educational experience? Do you routinely monitor online courses to address problems that arise? Do you have a help desk specifically designed to support students at a distance? Have your institution’s resource operations—especially the library, bookstore and registrar—adjusted their hours, accessibility and services to accommodate remote students?

By now, you have almost guaranteed that you will not be invited back to future gatherings.  But, if you want to go in for the kill, begin to penetrate their understanding of the online student community, or lack thereof.

How well do online students get to know one another in their courses and programs? How do you promote affiliation, community, and peer learning? How do you connect these students to the mothership?  What are the demographic characteristics of your online students that differentiate them from those on campus? What applied research have you conducted to measure student satisfaction, comparable learning outcomes and impact on the academic culture? How have you taken the lessons learned online as opportunities to improve classroom instruction?

The idealistic goal should be to create an exciting and engaging learning environment where the remote student can have a holistic experience by learning from faculty, fellow students drawn from diverse backgrounds (geographically and otherwise), and course materials. Their institutions would be obsessed with attaining comparability with the conventional classroom and campus, if not a superior learning experience. And they would be investing significantly and collectively in making that happen.

Like Chesterton said of Christianity, most haven’t yet really attained the true potential of distance learning. American institutions have made great progress in creating technological tools that allow faculty, generally acting independently, to mitigate face time in favor of work online. Asynchronicity—not being the same place at the same time—is not a sufficient standard in itself to fulfill the promise of distance learning.

I offer a more idealistic and aspirational definition: Reaching out beyond a region (nationally and even internationally), and providing a substantial investment in faculty and student support, an academic institution provides a full educational experience and learning community entirely online—worthy of the reputation and integrity of that institution. How many would still boast that we have achieved that standard?

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Jay A. Halfond is dean of Metropolitan College and Extended Education at Boston University. In a future one of these monthly columns, he will suggest what it might take to achieve the ideal of distance learning, and welcomes your comments and insights.