Science Learning Doctors
Diagnosing 'learning bugs': Pedagogic learning impediments
The typology of learning impediments
is intended as a diagnostic tool for thinking about where science learning
'goes wrong'. It is a model of the different types of 'learning
bugs' that may occur when our teaching does link to students' thinking
in the ways we intend.
One category of learning impediment is pedagogic learning
impediments:
SUBSTANTIVE LEARNING IMPEDIMENTS may occur when learning does
not match the desired learning because the student interprets teaching
in terms of existing ideas in a different way to intended. Grounded learning
impediments occur because existing understanding is inconsistent with
accepted scientific thinking. Such ‘alternative conceptions’ may derive
from various sources including previous imitations of previous teaching
due to over-simplification, the use of misleading analogies, poor teaching
models etc, i.e. a pedagogic learning impediment
Current only slows down
at the resistor - by analogy with water flow
A slogan for the role of proteins
Light 'thickness' influences deflection
on refraction
The smallest particle you can get…not
Current only slows down at the
resistor - by analogy with water flow
Students commonly think that resistance in a circuit has
local effects, and in part that is because forming a mental model of what
is going on in circuits is very difficult. Often models and analogies can
be useful. However when analogies are used in teaching there is also the
potential for them to mislead.
For example, Amy (when in Y10) told me she had been taught to use
a water flow analogy for electric current. However, because her visualisation
of what happens in water circuits was incorrect, she used the analogy to
support her alternative conception about circuits:
No, do you have any kind of imagined sort of idea,
any little mental models, about what [the flow of electricity round the circuit]
might look like? Do you have a way of imagining that?
Erm, yeah, we’ve been taught the water tank and pipe running
round it. … just imagine the water like flowing through a pipe, and
obviously like, if the pipe becomes smaller a one point, erm, the water flow
has to slow down, and that’s meant to represent the resistance of something.
So, so if I had my water, er, tank and I had a series of pipes,
they’d be water flowing through the pipes, and if I had a narrower pipe at
one point, what happens then?
The water would have to slow down.
So would it slow down just as it goes through the narrow pipe,
or would it slow down all the way round?
Erm – just through that part. [Amy does not appreciate the implications
of conservation of mass here – there cannot be a greater flow after (or before)
the constriction]. …
And so how do you imagine that’s got to do with resistance, how
does that help you understand resistance?
…well resistance, it slows the current down, but then erm,
once it passes a resistor or something it, the current is free to flow through
the wire again.
Analogies can be very useful teaching tools, but when using them it
is important to check that the students already understand the features of
the analogue that are meant to be helpful. It is also important to ensure
that they understand which features are meant to be mapped onto the target
system they are learning about, and which are not relevant. In this case,
as Amy did not appreciate that the water flow throughout the system would
be limited by the constriction, she could not use that as a useful analogy
for why a resistance influences current flow at all points in a series circuit.
Amy and the role of proteins:
a slogan - "proteins are needed for…"
Amy was in her first term of A level biology. One of the
things she was studying was proteins:
"because proteins do lots of things…they’re used for
growth and repair, and they form different things like apparently [sic]
insulin is a protein"
Amy admitted to be surprised that insulin, which was “made
in the pancreas which controls blood glucose levels” should be a protein.
She had not expected this “just because you were never told”. She has also
now learnt that “apparently [sic] haemoglobin is a protein”. Amy explained
that
“it’s just cause like, up until GCSE you’re just told
that like you know a protein is something which is used for growth and
repair, and not that it can be used to make sort of something like insulin”
It seems that at GCSE level Amy learnt a slogan relating
to the role of proteins – proteins are needed for growth and repair, but
a slogan that only related to a processes, without any suggestion of how
this might relate to materials and structures. Insulin is considered to
be linked to (processes of) sugar regulation, and haemoglobin to (processes
of) supplying cells with oxygen. Neither of these processes are seen as
growth or repair. It seems ‘repair’ is primarily understood in terms of
damage at the level of tissues, not individual cells or molecules.
This could be considered as an example of a fragmentation learning
impediment – the student has not made the link. However, if her school
teaching was in terms of the slogan ‘proteins are needed for growth and
repair’, then this could also be seen as a pedagogic learning impediment,
as that way of teaching gave Amy a way of thinking about the roles of protein
in the body which did not make her receptive to learning that molecules such
as insulin and haemoglobin might be proteins.
Sandra's views on the
amount light 'bends' on entering glass
Sandra was in year 8 when she told me that light:
“can travel through air and stuff, and glass which makes
it bend… because it is coming in at a speed, and it slows down when it
is going through glass, and part of it will slow down first, and then so
it will bend.”
She explained that:
“I think if it goes in at a straight line, it will come
out straight. [But] if it comes in … sort of at an angle, the part, like,
the part that hits it first, will slow down, sort of bend when it comes
out.”
This was because:
“say the light’s like that thick, it’s that this bit
will slow down first, because it has hit it first, it will start bending
that way, and then go straight.”
Sandra had undertaken practical work with ray boxes and glass
blocks, so I asked her whether if you change the thickness of the beam
of light that would change the effect. She thought it would. She had not
tried this, but when I asked if a thicker beam would turn more she thought
that it “probably” would. She also agreed that “probably” a very, very
thin beam of light would not bend very much, because it would all be hitting
the glass at more or less the same time. Sandra would not speculate on
what would happen with ‘an infinitely thin beam of light’.
In practice the ‘bending’ (deflection of the direction) of
the light does not depend upon the thickness of the beam (that is normally
understood by physicists as either progressive wave, or a stream of photons
of electromagnetic radiation). The common teaching model of refraction
is based on an analogy with very different physical systems (soldiers marching
across, or vehicles with their wheels hitting, a change of surface at different
points in time). Students often relate to these examples and can visualise
how they lead to a change in direction for the soldiers or vehicle. This
is therefore a very useful model for getting students to form a mental model
of what is going on, and therefore to both make refraction seems less abstract
and help them remember the phenomenon.
Unfortunately, this teaching model offers little insights into the
mechanism of refraction, and if the learner adopts this as an explanation
for how refraction occurs, it soon causes problems. Sandra used her mental
model of light refraction, based upon this teaching model, and used this
to predict how the degree of defection should be different for beams of
different thickness. She drew appropriate conclusions in terms of the model,
but unfortunately her predictions do not match what actually happens when
light is refracted because the model used does not represent the actual
physical system.
The smallest particle you can
get…not
It is quite common for students at secodnary level to
claim that the smallest particle or thing tat you can have is a single atom…but
often the same students can go on to report sub-atomic particles. So, for
example, when Amy (Y10) told me that elements were made up of one type
of atom, I asked her about atoms:
So what do you mean by an atom, what’s an atom?
An atom is er the smallest particle, in something, and
everything is made up of atoms.
Smallest particle?
Yeah.
So you can’t get a smaller particle than that?
Well, you can within an atom.
Oh can you?
Yeah {laughing}
So what can you get within an atom that’s smaller than an
atom then?
Oh, proton and neutrons, which are in the nucleus, or,
and electrons which orbit the atom.
So everything’s made up of atoms, and atoms are the smallest
particles you can get, apart from those particles that are even smaller?:
Within the atom.
Within the atom?
Yeah I think so.
So why don’t we just say that everything’s made up of protons,
neutrons and electrons?
Erm, {laughs} because [pause] I don’t know.
Amy had learnt, by rote, that an atom is the smallest particle,
and that it was composed of even smaller particles. Furthermore, she did
not appear to have questioned, or even spotted, any inconsistency here.
We might argue that there is a sense in which an atom is a type of smallest
possible particle (perhaps the smallest particle of an element which is substantially
[given isotopes] the same as all the other particles at its scale?) However,
the notion that the atom is the smallest particle is commonly presented
without such qualification, and may be learnt as a mantra without any real
meaning, as seems to be the case here.
There are two related issues here. One is the value of learning by rote
without any real understanding of the concepts. This is not what
any science teacher really wants. The second is that convenient 'catch-phrases'
such as 'an atom is the smallest thing you can get' can actually impede further
learning by offering a superficial notion that stands in the place of real
understanding. Amy was a very clever girl, but accepted what she had been
taught and failed to question whether it really had any meaning for her.