Testing 1 – 2 – 3: More reflections on hybrid teaching and learning

This guest post comes from Patrick Bijsmans, Maastricht University

I was recently asked to test a new touch screen to check its potential contribution to teaching after the Summer. While we’re all hoping to return to on-campus teaching by then, I used the test to get some additional insights about equipment and hybrid teaching. After all, if there’s one thing we’ve learned these past few months, it’s that it’s difficult to predict the development of the pandemic.

The new screen is vast, as you can see from the pictures below (and especially so in that relatively small room). It offers all kinds of options, including a decent hand-writing functionality (including a ‘pen’) and opportunities to add additional apps and equipment. This includes, for instance, the use of airplay to connect your Macbook, but also adding dedicated cameras, mics, etc.

But did the screen have an added value?

I first gave a lecture using the screen. Here its added value was quite apparent to me. I was much less bounded by screen and camera than I would ‘normally’ have been by my (home) office set-up.  This is despite the latter coming with a fairly large screen, plus a height-adjustable desk. I could easily move around and use much more body language. And when students’ faces popped up on the screen for questions, I had the feeling that we were less detached from each other due to the life-size images. The only drawback was that the screen was hooked on to an ethernet cable, which meant that I could not wirelessly connect my Macbook. But I’ve been told that this is going to be solved soon.

So far, so good.

I also organised two hybrid tutorial sessions in one of our first-year undergrad courses, each with 3 students accompanying me in the room, while the rest were online.* Students were informed in advance that this would be a small pilot. I also informed them about some of the possible complications that we might run into, such as those discussed by Chad last June. You should know that in Maastricht we tend to work with student discussion leaders and notetakers. I specifically instructed the discussion leaders to maintain a connection between online and on-campus students. In addition, I arranged to have an online discussion leader with an on-campus notetaker in my first group, whereas in my second group the discussion leader was on-campus and the notetaker online. This would allow me to see if there is a set-up that works best.

So, how did it go?

I asked students to complete a short survey afterward (20 out of the 24 attending students completed the survey). As expected, they had different views on how the hybrid setting impacted the quality of the discussions as compared to our regular online meetings.

In your opinion, how did the hybrid setting impact the quality of the discussions?
 The quality was much worseThe quality was somewhat worseThe quality was about the sameThe quality was somewhat betterThe quality was much better
Online753
On-campus32

Out of six on-campus students, five completed the survey and all thought the experience was better. As one of the students put it, “it was so good to have a class with real people and not through a screen”. All five referred to enjoying the discussions with their fellow students in the actual room. They noticed that not everything went well – some sounds issues, in particular, but also at times a disconnect between on-campus and online students. Yet overall, the on-campus students felt that discussions went better and were more lively, also with the online students.

The online students were less impressed. Plus they all virtually gave the same feedback, whether in the group with the online or the on-campus discussion leader. First, quite a few commented on the sound quality. On-campus contributions to the discussions were not always audible. Second, the on-campus group wasn’t always fully visible to the online students, which was party due to the camera angle and partly due to the need to keep a distance. The size of the room also didn’t offer space for a different seating arrangement. And, thirdly, there was the reoccurring disconnect between on-campus and online students. One online student referred to sometimes feeling like a spectator, which, another student wrote, was partly due to “the participants in real-life not looking at the screen all the time”.

None of this really came as a surprise to me. Yet, unfortunately, I was also unable to prevent these issues from occurring. Clearly the fancy screen with lots of trimmings also did not matter here. But, more importantly, this again raises questions about the viability of hybrid teaching. In my opinion, it is probably better to have separate on-campus and online groups – even though, as Arjan and I wrote before, this too comes with its own challenges. But these can be solved. The potential disconnect between on-campus and online students in a hybrid setting to me is more problematic, as it may result in unequal learning opportunities.

* A huge thank you goes to the students who attended the sessions: Jill Bartholmy, Emma Begas, Jeanne Brunhes, Adam Ceccato, Noah Chebib, Carl Colonius, Boti Czagány, Jos de Heij, Lilian Giebler, Vincent Halder, Xavier Heck, Sanne Hocks, Julia Hufnagel, Leila Kahnt, Anna La Placa, Carolina Lean Santiago, Liam Lodder, Arianne Michopoulou, Mayanne Pagé, Simone Palladino, Emili Stefanova, Mae Thibaut, Tessa Urban and Victoria Wenninger.

Not another simulation…

Amanda’s post last week was, as ever, bang on the nose.

All too often, ‘active learning’ becomes a synonym for ‘a negotiation exercise’: just this week I’ve stumbled across at least three more people running mock Security Councils or European Councils in their classes, all portrayed as the embodiment of connecting with the students.

At one level it makes sense: what could be a better demonstration of big, chunky active learning than a role playing exercise? But that’s also a very reductive way of looking at it.

So, rather than rehash Amanda’s points, I thought I’d try to pull together a list of other kinds of active learning that I’ve used, just to get you to think about all the kinds that you use, and that could use. Which might be useful to us all.

And with that, off we go, in not particular order:

1 – Flipping your class. Yes, you did it last year because of the You Know What, but it’s also active learning, so long as you used the space freed up by pre-recording lectures to do something interactive with the students.

2 – Any discussion format that got the students talking to each other. Technically, talking with you is also included, but let’s not dwell on that for now. If you did some snowballing, fishbowls, producing joint presentations or reports: all of that fits with the idea of making students the centre of the process, making active use of their skills and knowledge.

3 – Generating feedback from students. Yes, this is basically the previous point’s aside – students talking to you is part of this, because you’re stimulating them to participate in the creation of their learning space. Me, I use post-its or a Google Form, but building a joint enterprise where they can see how they shape what happens is perhaps the most engaging process we can mobilise.

4 – Getting out of the classroom. I’ve run fieldtrips within my two-hour teaching block, visiting town or sending students out to collect data. I’ve had them stand on the playing field, sometimes in blindfolds. I’ve sat in the corridor while they work out what’s going on. Much of it could have been done within the space of the class, but breaking out of the walls is a very easy route to disrupting the passive transmission model.

5 – Letting students fail. Not in grades particularly, but in tasks. Setting them a task that’s potentially impossible can be a stimulus to reflection and a motivation to address that, but so too is there value in setting a reasonable task but giving them ownership. Not infrequently, they do not make the most of it – especially if it’s something long-term – but that’s still a means to generate their critical reflection on their own actions.

6 – Not filling in all the gaps. Over the years, I’ve spent much time teaching about simulations and saying that you should try to scope any possible failures of gameplay beforehand, just so you’re covered. But it would be more correct to say that this doesn’t mean you have to make something that covers all the bases: indeed, by keeping your instructions as parsimonious as possible, you empower students to develop from there and create something they have more ownership of. And that’s true for all these activities, not just your model UN.

7 – Listen. Ultimately, all of the above is about engaging with your students and responding to them. Too often we treat them as passive units to be managed, rather than individuals with agency and ideas. So if you don’t do any of the rest, do at least listen to, and hear, what your students say and take it on board. From that, all the rest of active learning follows.

Active Learning is More than Just Simulations

I’ve been in a few sessions recently where well-meaning faculty point out how important active learning is—true!—and then immediately mention ‘simulations and games’ as key examples of active learning (AL). Also true! But let’s be clear, simulations and games aren’t the only kind of active learning. They aren’t the most common kind, the easiest to do, or even what I would recommend that most faculty start with. When the right simulation or game is chosen, executed well, and debriefed effectively, it can be a great learning tool. But games and simulations are neither necessary nor sufficient for active learning, and I want to encourage everyone to think more broadly about how to increase AL in their classes.

Active learning is any tool, technique, or approach that calls on learners to actively engage in the learning process. The point is not the tool itself, but adopting a learner-centric approach that ensures that students are not simply passive recipients of information. ‘Activating’ the students, then, is about asking them to think, process, and make connections about the material, rather than just listen, read, or write down information. In some cases, a passive approach makes sense! Sometimes you really do just have to transmit information. The problem arises when we consistently turn to passive approaches without considering and experimenting with active approaches, which have a solid record of producing better engagement and learning. See for example Deslauriers et al 2019, where even students who thought they learned more from a more passive approach actually learned more from an active one.

Simulations and games, then, can be active or passive, depending on whether everyone has the tools to effectively participate or actively watch and listen. Watching others play a game is only active if the observers are prompted to provide comments and input based on their observations. In such cases, they are active observers. Even participation doesn’t necessarily make the experience ‘active’. A simulation or role-play exercise where a student is too anxious about their performance or grade to pay attention and fully participate is not active for that student. So AL is not just about the activity you do, but how you use it and help students learn from it.

Moreover, AL encompasses so much more than simulations and games. Structuring a lecture around a provocative question, where students are encouraged to think through the steps as you go along, can be active. So can asking good discussion questions that lead to dynamic student to student debates. Asking students at the end of class to reflect on what they learned that day (or what was still confusing) is a method of active learning, and in can be done in one minute at the end of class, or as a written, audio, or video journal they create throughout the term. 

When you consider that active learning can really be just small interventions in teaching (as Jim Lang puts it in his book,Small Teaching: Everyday Lessons from the Science of Learning), it suddenly becomes achievable for everyone. Simulations and games are sometimes a tough sell—they can seem juvenile or take too much time away from other content. But active learning? The benefits are clear and centering such techniques doesn’t actually require much work or time.

Even this blog makes this mistake—we are Active Learning in Political Science, and yet most of our coverage is on games and simulations. So consider this a call for a broader approach, one that brings legions more faculty into the world of active learning, without requiring a conversion to the gaming world. Let’s look for the small interventions that anyone can use—from a great discussion question to a good group activity to great reflective prompts—and be more careful with how we define and explain what active learning really is.

Reality Check

As a response to the situation described in my last post, I created an in-class exercise for my comparative politics course — this worksheet:

1. Write the main thesis of these articles by changing each article’s title into a declarative sentence containing “because,” “causes,” “is caused by,” etc.:

Ronald Inglehart and Christian Welzel, “How Development Leads to Democracy: What We Know About Modernization,” Foreign Affairs 88, 2 (March/April 2009): 33-48.

Alfred Stepan, “Brazil’s Decentralized Federalism: Bringing Government Closer to the Citizens?” Daedalus 129, 2 (Spring 2000): 145-169.

Larry Diamond, “Why Are There No Arab Democracies?” Journal of Democracy 21, 1 (January 2010): 93-112.

Javier Corrales, “Authoritarian Survival: Why Maduro Hasn’t Fallen,” Journal of Democracy 31, 3 (July 2020): 39-53.

Scott Mainwaring, “The Crisis of Representation in the Andes,” Journal of Democracy 17, 3 (July 2006): 13-27.

2. Fill in the blank cells in the table below with information from Larry Diamond, “Why Are There No Arab Democracies?”:

3. Given the above, what causes the value of the dependent variable? How do you know this? Is this a Most Different Systems Design or a Most Similar Systems Design?

I gave students 10 minutes to work on these questions individually, followed by 10 minutes in breakout rooms with teammates to discuss their answers. Afterward, I reviewed the lesson by asking students to state what they wrote for each thesis or blank table cell. This occupied the remaining 30 minutes of class. While I don’t know what students thought of this exercise, it’s something I can use in the future either in the same way or as part of an exam.

How can we help?

No-one’s asked about the wine yet. Or the model kit

In keeping with pretty much every adult I know, imposter syndrome is an ever-present menace. Yesterday’s manifestation for me was the announcement that I are going to be the next Chair of UACES, the UK’s European Studies association (and the world’s largest such, by membership), from this September.

My anxiety over this stems from the confidence that numerous colleagues seem to put in my hands, which doesn’t really fit with my self-image as someone who is barely in control of even the basics of social niceties, let alone leading a big study association.

This feeling was heightened by my simultaneous clearing-out of my office, ahead of my move to the Open University. The clear-out is necessitated by the twin forces of a much-reduced shelf space in my home office and the despair that I still have my undergraduate lecture notes. Or rather, did, until yesterday.

But all this is an aside to the main topic here, namely how I might best use my time as UACES Chair to support colleagues’ work on Learning & Teaching.

I ask this because I’m not sure that I know what the answer might be here.

Already, we have a proliferation of L&T groups, plus a number of national, European and international events, so doing more of that feels rather marginal for the effort. Likewise, the past year has demonstrated that it takes a global pandemic to get a significant number of those who aren’t usually interested in the matter to participate, and then for only a couple of months, as the panic of new delivery modes sets in.

Perhaps we have to think about what the issue is, before the solutions.

All through my career, teaching has been treated as secondary to research in the sector. My own trajectory of maintaining an active interest in, and work on, pedagogy is still very much the exception. And this despite the intellectual benefits of seeing as a co-equal, not to mention the financial logics of higher education these days.

So perhaps it’s less about doing more events, and instead trying to work on changing the debate about L&T’s role in academia.

That might include working on framing research and teaching as co-constitutive: we use our research to inform our teaching, but we also can use our teaching to advance our research. The skills of effective teaching – dialogue, clear communication, responsiveness – are also essentials of research and getting it out to the world.

I’m still thinking this one through, but I’d love to hear your ideas about what might work for you, so that as I pick up my new role I can be of use to you and to all of us: if I can do that, then maybe I’ll feel like a bit less of an imposter.

Going digital

“This should improve our module evaluations by 0.4…”

Source

The big question of how we forward (not back) in our teaching practice is one that continues to bother me, partly because it’s going to be a major personal challenge for me in the coming years, but also because the variety of discourses about this vary rather more than I’d expect.

As a case in point, I noticed that my VC/President wrote a long blog about this question just the other week. In it, he writes about the possibilities that digital technologies open up and how we need to be receptive and pro-active in making the most of these.

And that’s all fine.

However, what strikes me about the piece is that there’s no mention at any point about pedagogy. Instead it posits a system driven by what the tech can do.

Having gotten to spend some time with him, I know that he does have a genuine and deep interest in teaching in itself, rather than simply as a side-show from research or a money-generating activity (unlike some VCs I’ve encountered), but it’s a bit disappointing to see a senior leader get caught up in the tech.

Tech matters. This past 12 months have demonstrated that all too clearly, but tech is (and can only ever be) a function of pedagogy. More precisely, the fundamentals of good pedagogic practice – clear learning objectives; alignment of content and assessment; responsive design – are just that, fundamentals.

Consider last spring, when you were scrambling around for a means to continue your classes. You probably had an institutional VLE or platform intended specifically for that purpose, plus access to some other tools, either supported by your institution or not.

In the first instance, I’m guessing you took the path of least resistance in setting up ad hoc ways to get content to students and/or having interactions with them.

But then you started to look around at the world of possibilities, just like my VC is suggesting. But in making your new choices, the key driver was likely to have been “what works best for my and my students’ needs” than it was “what amazing thing is possible here”.

In twenty-something years of teaching, I’ve gone from acetates to Zoom, blackboards to Google Docs. But I can think of very few technologies that have fundamentally changed how I teach and only one that changes what I’m trying to achieve with my teaching.

The one change in objectives was the arrival of the digital world and the cornucopia of data that made available. The result was a need to shift from prioritising the acquisition of techniques to find data to stressing ways of managing all-too-much data. And even then, I still find myself telling students how to track down hard-to-find sources.

But otherwise, the bulk of my learning objectives are the same: building substantive knowledge of a topic; acquiring and using skills that make the student into a critical learner; situating all of this within a wider body of understanding.

In short, tech is a means, not an end.

Again, I’ve tried lots of different technological options: some have been great, others alright, a few rubbish. But I could only judge that against the yardstick of my pedagogy and the learning of my students. Great that they can make a whizzy Prezi, but does it actually help them to learn? And I say that as someone who’d love experience more engaging presentations.

So, in the time-honoured cliché of science-fiction, we have to stop wondering what what we can do and start thinking about whether we should do it.

If not, then we risk falling into another cycle of expensive tech acquisition that doesn’t work for our needs, just like we did most of the other times our institutions bought some tech.

How to not slip back

A new cycle…

I’ve touched before on the opportunity that Covid has presented to embed new, improved practice in our teaching, but I didn’t really get into practical ways to do that.

So let’s have a crack now, yes?

For this, I think we have to side-step the question of whether your institution will give you a free hand in this. The range of options from ‘you’ll do as we say’ to ‘go wild’ is huge, even if no one is being told to ‘go wild’ by anyone. Fortunately, that shouldn’t matter too much.

The first step is to review and evaluate what you’ve been doing during lockdown. That means taking as impartial-as-possible a look at each of the elements of your practice and the overall package.

The whole matters as much as the parts because you often get synergistic effects at work. In a good scenario, your forum-based chat might have been a raging success (in stark contrast to pretty much everyone else), but that might have been as much because you made a lot of it in your direct work with students as because you structured it well. If you’re going to be doing some rearrangement of elements, then it’s really important to have a sense of what relates to what in all this.

This step needs input from multiple directions: your own reflection; that of colleagues; and that of students. If you’ve been relying on particular services, it’s also good to find out if the same level of support will exist in future (given everything, hopefully that’s less of an issue, but new-generation EdTech might be arriving that changes things for you). If it helps, treat it like a piece of research and triangulate as much as possible, and apply some thought to how much you weight each piece of evidence.

At the end of this step you should have a clearer idea of what works, how it works and in what context it works. Remember that those are three different aspects.

Step two is building a repository of elements and ideas for whatever new environment you will be facing.

This doesn’t have to be a literal collection of materials, although such things are useful. Instead, it’s a more conceptual process, of thinking, discussing and optimising new collections of pedagogic elements.

Broadly, you’ve got three choices here. The first is that you’re driven by institutional constraints: if you’ve got a major requirement coming out of management then there’s not much point in resisting (unless it’s very silly and not fully decided upon, in which case you should push back hard (maybe even using some of that evidence you’ve been gathering)).

Alternatively, you can be driven by the nature of the subject matter: some topics lend themselves better to some pedagogies than others, so check out what others are doing.

Finally, you can be driven by a desire to try out (or optimise) some specific pedagogic element. I’ve done this with flipping, because I really wanted to see how I could make it work. Lucky break there, given that we all had to flip last year.

However, in all three choices, you’re still trying to think about building a learning environment that works as well as possible for your students. So ultimately, while your starting point might vary, you should still be coming to a rounded and balanced provisional solution. And again, if you’re resisting institutional pressure, then having a credible and thought-through plan is only going to help.

The third step is implementation. As you close in on running your new class, you need to keep up the evaluating and reviewing as the realities start to hit home. In practice, this means being ready to adapt and regroup as you go.

Hopefully, that’s easier because you’ve got your evidence, your repository and your reflections to help guide you. Importantly, it’ll help in making a call on whether something is just a passing problem or something more structural (which is, admittedly, not always particularly clear).

Of course, all of this is stuff that I’d argue you should be doing in any year, because it’s a key part of maintaining and developing our pedagogic practice. The difference now is that you have probably been exposed to a lot more pedagogic practices than one year ago: so try to internalise these and see them as part of what you can do.

Some things didn’t work, but really very few (because you picked up on problems as you went). Some things worked as stop-gaps, because things were very hectic and pressured (but you’ll have picked up on that from your students, so you’ll not try to repeat the exercise at ‘leisure’). And some things worked in ways that you didn’t really anticipate.

All of that is valuable, whether or not there’s a global pandemic. So make something better out of it all.

Coalition Governments

Today we have a guest post from Joseph W. Roberts, associate professor in the Department of Politics and International Relations at Roger Williams University. He can be contacted at jroberts [at] rwu [dot] edu.

Recently someone on Twitter asked about teaching coalition governments and their formation in an introduction to comparative politics class. I responded to the query with an exercise that I use to demonstrate presidential vs. parliamentary systems and voting systems. The exercise demonstrates why a state might choose one system over another in a way the mirrors the perspective championed by Lijphart (references listed below).

I begin by talking to the students about the size principle and the minimum winning coalition described by Riker and the critiques about whether a minimum winning coalition of two parties with a “margin” of one is actually stable (see Shepsle, Butterworth, or Brown). I explain ways in which party identity/ideology can affect the creation of coalitions, and ask students to think of other factors, such as ethnic identity, that might be part of the process. This subject is usually covered briefly in comparative politics textbooks and I just reinforce some of the basic concepts.

I then use the actual party data from an election available from Wikipedia—usually Israel because it has a lot of elections—but any election where a coalition government is formed will work. I give the students the list of parties that received seats in the election, a rough description of each party’s ideology, and a number line showing where each party fits in the left-right political spectrum, as shown in the table below.

Continue reading “Coalition Governments”

Online Simulations & Games Using Discord

I mentioned Discord about a year ago as we were all turning to virtual instruction at the start of the pandemic. I want to return to it specifically in the games and simulations context, though, as it has some really useful properties that can aid those instructors looking for a way to run their online simulations. If you are ready to start thinking about how to run Model UN, Diplomacy, or other complex simulations online, you should really consider Discord.

Discord is a social media platform used by gamers, podcasters, and other content creators to connect with their communities. Each group has their own discord ‘server’, a private space that you can only enter with an invitation. Inside, you can create text and voice based ‘channels’ that let you structure conversations by topic. These channels can be open to everyone on the server or private and hidden. As the server creator or administrator, you also have a lot of latitude for customizing settings–such as making something read-only or enabling ‘slow mode’, which prevents any one person from dominating the conversation. And server members can message each other individually or create small groups for private conversation. The text conversation is asynchronous, but it is easy to jump into a voice channel for voice-only or video conversations.

This kind of format lends itself very well to running complex simulations. There are several key needs for running an online simulation:

  • Instructors must be able to review rules and procedures, share documents and updates, and take questions from students, publicly and privately.
  • Students need to be able to post in-character public messages for other participants to see.
  • Students need to be able to post privately to their teammates, if they have them.
  • Students need to be able to send private messages to other students for secret negotiations.
  • Students may need to post files or links, share their screen, or jump onto a quick voice conversation.

It is easy to do all of this in Discord, without the constraints of a standard learning management system/virtual learning environment. By creating ‘roles’ in the server with different permissions, you can divide students by their teams or in-game roles and set channels that only they can access and that can identify them within the server. This makes communication much easier. For example, if you are running a UN Security Council simulation, you can create a ‘role’ for each country in Discord. You might not need to set up private channels for each country if there is only one person in each role, but this allows students to message each other without having to check a list of who is playing what role. They could also have a public channel for making speeches, and another where they upload and discuss the wording on resolutions. If you are running a full UN simulation with many different committees, you can have channels dedicated to the General Assembly and each committee, and private channels dedicated to each country so members of the same team can talk privately and share information. Discord therefore supports simulations both large and small.

I’m using Discord right now to run a game of Diplomacy in my ISA Career Course on Games and Simulations in International Relations (with Victor Asal). There are plenty of online platforms that you can use, but I chose to use Discord because I didn’t know in advance if I would have more than 7 players. Most online platforms don’t allow for teams–but Discord does. Here is what the server looks like:

As you can see, I have a general channel for administrative purposes. I’ve since created a new read-only channel called ‘maps and result’s where I post the outcomes of each game turn along with updated maps. The public channels–text and voice–are open to all players if they want to openly communicate. Italy has made a call for peace and protection of the status quo–but no responses so far! the other channels are organized by country category. Each country has a private text and voice channel open only to their team and the facilitators. They also have a private ‘orders’ channel where they submit orders for their units each turn. I use those channels to adjudicate each turn. If they want to message another team, all they have to do is right-click on the name of the person they want to message (their country name is next to their name) and select ‘message’ and that will open up a private conversation for negotiations. The person-shaped icon in the top right of the screen pops up the list of server members for this purpose. It will also tell you who is online in case you want to invite them into a voice chat.

Running the game this way instead of over email or through an online game system gives me several advantages as an instructor. I can keep tabs on most of the gameplay, although some private conversations I would only see if I’m invited to join them (something you can require if you want). I also have a record after the gameplay of everything that happened, which is useful for debriefing, grading, and assessment. The interface is easy to use, and once students get familiar with it, you can reuse it for different games and exercises throughout your course. I can also allow ‘observers’–people who want to watch but not play. I can give them as much access as I want–for example, I can limit them to read- and listen-only so they can’t interfere with the game play.

I’ve used discord for running an monthly trivia game as well as a 200+ person multi day conference, so I can attest to its robust capabilities. It is free, accessible from outside the US, pretty easy to learn, and has a robust mobile app that make it accessible to students. The main downsides are that the server creator needs to put in a bit of work to figure out how to set up the server to meet your needs, and that the video and screen sharing systems aren’t always reliable. Asynchronous text channels and voice channel work just fine though.

I know a lot of faculty want to run simulations but are restricted by social distancing or virtual classrooms. If you are ready to try something new, try Discord. I have no relationship with the company and am not being compensated by them for this post–I just want to recommend something that I’ve found very useful in my own teaching.

Escaping your ‘new normal’

OK, this is actually rocket science, but try not to dwell on that

This week I got my first email about making arrangements for the autumn semester’s teaching. Luckily, it was for the institution I’m about to leave, rather than the one I’m about to join, so I could put it in my new and exciting email folder: “not my problem”.

But most of us aren’t that fortunate – we’ll all on a hamster-wheel of some kind, running to stand still, future commitments racing towards us alongside a bunch of deadlines.

All of which makes it hard to stop and take stock of our L&T practice.

Of the (very few) benefits of the pandemic, the ‘opportunity’ to reconsider what we do with our students was perhaps completely undermined by the associated factor of ‘you’re getting no cues on what is either possible or allowed’. Fun times.

But we have navigated that huge change, and in many cases produced learning environments that work really well. Just in time to see a possible shift once again, back into the classroom.

If you’d like an institutionalised take on this, you might try the UK’s Office for Students’ recent report Gravity Assist (plus this critique from WonkHE), that essentially argues we should be trying to retain the new good stuff, rather than just going back to the Olden Days.

That’s all nice, at a sector- or institutional-level, but what about you and me, as individuals? How do we go about that?

The issue strikes me as being primarily one of path dependency: you’ve reworking your teaching a lot during this past year, so you probably only want to tinker around the edges, rather than doing a wholesale reworking MkII.

That might be appropriate in some cases, but equally not in others: without the space to devote to some big thinking, it’s hard to tell. Changing jobs is one solution – especially if your new employer doesn’t do teaching in any way like your old one – but it’d be good if we didn’t introduce any more precarity into it all.

Instead, we have to try to keep the matter in hand as much as possible.

It has been striking how the profusion of interest in L&T during 2020 seems to have fallen back: the excellent PSA webinar series (recordings very recommended) have – in my anecdotal opinion – returned to the ‘usual suspects’ in the audience. It’s a great bunch of people, but that moment of broad professional interest in L&T has not been sustained, most likely because most people got through their crisis and got their head back down.

But pedagogy is just like research: it requires a constant discussion and challenging of ideas and approaches. Indeed, the tempo of the former is perhaps more pressing, given the sustained rapidity of producing outputs.

All of which is to say that we need to try to maintain an active culture of discussion and debate around our teaching. The more we can do that, the easier it will be to manage this transition, and the next and all the other changes that will be coming down the line.

Not very cheery, but perhaps more realistic.