Unplugging

Today I had a chat with my grad students. They are the twelfth grad cohort I have taught at Gladlyville U., and they are the most resistant to the idea of unplugged class time. I have a standard little spiel that I use to kick off every class; I say, "Before we get started please do what you need to do to eliminate distractions -- close down your email and messaging apps; put your phones in do-not-disturb mode and stash them in your bags." But this cohort, more than any of its predecessors, has declined to follow these instructions. 

I'm not an ogre about it. It's been a rough two years. At least one of my students lost a parent to COVID, and I can imagine that many parents are feeling a little more urgency about getting quick responses to their texts. I can imagine that many students are feeling the need for uninterrupted connections with others after all of the pandemic weirdness.

And yet-- phone habits that prioritize constant connectedness disregard some of what we know about how brains work.

The science is pretty clear: you can only do two things at once if one of the things has a high degree of automaticity. Even with something like walking and talking, if your conversation partner drops a bombshell, like, "I'm filing for divorce," what's your likely reaction? You stop in your tracks, right? When conversations get complicated, even walking is too much for your multitasking skills to cope with.

Juggling multiple conversations is hard. People are bad at it. We all want to imagine that our brains are like hummingbirds, fleetly flitting from one flower to the next, but in reality brains are more like your grandma's 1981 Buick attempting to fit into a small space in an icy parking lot. That kind of maneuvering is a slow and gas-guzzling process. You can do it, yeah, but you'll be a happier driver with a lower fuel bill and fewer dings in the fender if you choose a direction and go straight.

The effect of multitasking on an individual student's learning doesn't address the effect it has on her neighbor, or the effect it has on an instructor who is attempting to read students' facial expressions for input on how much/how little detail to provide on a topic. But I can tell you it is much nicer -- much, much nicer -- to teach in an environment with fewer distractions unfolding on laptop screens.

I am not giving my grad students any tasks to accomplish over spring break, but I asked them to take some time and think about this issue: what would it take for you to feel comfortable being more unplugged in this class? What would you need in order to feel like you could block off this time for thinking about the topics under discussion, without needing to answer email at the same time? They seemed responsive; a lot of heads were nodding as I was talking. We'll see what it looks like in my classroom after spring break, I guess.

Phone overuse is an issue everywhere; it has only escalated during the pandemic. Do my students want things to be different? Who can say? But I would like things to be different.