Tag: digital transformation

  • Don’t cancel or postpone your conference, workshop, or training – go digital

    Don’t cancel or postpone your conference, workshop, or training – go digital

    How we respond to the threat of a disaster is critical.

    Organizations planning physical-world events have a choice:

    • You can cancel or postpone your event OR
    • You can go digital.

    Why not go digital?

    • You think it cannot be done.
    • You do not know how to do it.
    • You believe the experience will be inferior.

    It can be done. You can learn. You are likely to be surprised by how much you can achieve.

    The Geneva Learning Foundation is inviting conference and other event organizers to a Special Event in which we will share how you can rapidly move or ‘pivot’ your events online.

    What is The Geneva Learning Foundation?

    The Geneva Learning Foundation is a Swiss non-profit with the mission to develop trial, and scale up new ways to lead change to tackle the challenges that threaten our societies.

    We are purely digital. This means all of our operations and activities take place online.

    • Nearly every day, we organize and facilitate one or more digital events that convene hundreds or thousands of participants from all over the world.
    • We want to help other organizations by sharing our experience and know-how.

    Why are we doing this?

    • We believe that the digital transformation can strengthen the resilience of our societies.
    • Cancelling or postponing a conference weakens ongoing work that may be significant or important.

    Why attend this Special Event?

    If you are planning a conference:

    • During this Special Event, we will share the critical success factors for digital events. You are likely to be surprised by what we have found makes the greatest difference.
    • Attendees will receive an invitation to join our #DigitalConference short course, in which you actually build a practical plan you can use to go digital.

    If you are an event organizer, we know you may be already facing severe consequences.

    • If you have experience in providing services to design and run digital events, we invite you to share your services with participants.
    • If you have been primarily focused on physical-world events, we invite you to share how you are adapting.

    Here is a case study.

    We just organized a conference that was attended by more than 1,700 participants from 95 countries, including those hardest hit by COVID-19.

    • This conference ran in English 3-13 March and in French 16-30 March.
    • World-class presenters shared their expertise with practitioners.
    • Dialogue was constant – 24 hours a day, given participants spread across time zones.

    We were awed by the number and diversity of participants and the quality of their contributions in this Pre-Course Conference.

    How do we compare digital and physical? It is comparable?

    In the past, our partner had organized three successive face-to-face events in Barcelona and Dar Es Salaam.

    • Each event was attended by around 80 people.
    • Each event was well-planned and executed.
    • Each time, 80 people went back to their countries with new knowledge and relationships.

    After the third time, our partner was ready to go digital.

    Previous conferences were limited to around 80 participants.

    • They required everyone to stop their work in order to travel.
    • This is the hidden opportunity cost of face-to-face conferences.
    • It often adds up to far more than the actual expenditure on the event itself.

    What about the intangible serendipity of a conference?

    We know the real value of a physical event resides in the impromptu meetings of minds and bodies on the conference floor.

    • Sharing a drink or a meal provides the occasion to establish or strengthen informal relationships.
    • Yes, there are dozens of digital tools that can match individuals and organizations, schedule ad hoc meets, and stir idea generation and serendipity.
    • Yet, it is undeniable that some aspects – and the ones that matter – are difficult to replicate.

    Conversely, you may discover new ways of doing new things in a digital conference that can accelerate and multiply serendipity.

    If you cancel or postpone, you will get nothing.

    Is it expensive?

    • No. You can make an awesome event digital using only free tools.
    • You can also hire people and providers with the right combination of tools, talent, and vision.
    • The secret sauce is in the know-how required: not to use the tools, but to figure out how to both replicate and augment the experience you wish to create.

    This is where organizations and service providers with experience can help.

    Is it difficult or time-consuming?

    No. If you already have an event scheduled, there is a simple method to:

    • Identify what is the value and significance provided by the event – including the intangible, serendipitous bits
    • Think through how to recreate and augment this value
    • Convert everything you planned into a digital format

  • From ivory tower to walled garden

    From ivory tower to walled garden

    Question: “So what learning platform do you use?”

    Answer: “The Internet.”

    I first remember hearing the phrase “Everyone hates their LMS” from a defrocked priest of higher education.

    That made so much sense. At the time, I was wrestling with a stupid, clunky corporate learning management system designed for the most paranoid kind of HR department, touting its 10,000 features, none of which could do what we actually needed. Moodle seemed equally clunky, its pedagogical aspirations lost in the labyrinth of open source development.

    The first breakthrough happened when, inspired by connectivist MOOCs, I figured out we could run an open learning journey without an LMS, using nothing more than a blog and a Twitter account. (That defrocked priest dubbed it “FrankenMOOC”, but he was also trying to sell me on using his preferred LMS.) There was something profoundly liberating about working outside the confines of a platform. However, the connectivist ideal proved to be a different kind of labyrinth, with only a chosen few who enjoyed wandering around or getting lost in it.

    Digital market share is often measured by the size of your walled garden. By that measure, Facebook rules them all. In education, Moodle must certainly have the largest, albeit balkanized, walled garden.

    This is not about the merit or demerit of an LMS or a learning theory. You are missing the point. And my vantage point sits outside of higher education.

    Google’s ubiquitous search provides an interesting exception. By default, its “garden” is the entire Internet. This is how I understand the failure of Google+ as a missed opportunity. Why build a wall when search results could have gone social? (There are smatterings of this in search, for example when results show you reviews or enable you to connect with your search results.)

    There is no parallel to this in higher education, where the market is driven by aggregators who partner with universities to leverage, as Burck Smith summarizes it, the “‘iron triangle’ of input-focused accreditation, taxpayer subsidies tied to accreditation, and subjective course articulation”.

    It is a fundamental mistake to start building a digital learning system with the choice of platform, for at least two reasons.

    First, there is no one platform that will do the job. This is especially true if you are interested in doing more than offering “high-quality learning” and competencies but want to fully leverage the potential of the digital transformation to drive change to tackle complex, global problems. The “course” is the commencement, not the end point. Implementation and impact are no longer the horizon. They are the rational goal that justifies investment in professional education.

    Second, focusing on the platform inevitably devolves a learning initiative into a technology project. This is what happened to Moodle. It is akin to e-learning development in which media production metastizes into costly bells-and-whistles.

    I know of only one platform that is the pure implementation of a strong pedagogical model. Unfortunately, despite the relevance of its pedagogical model for our future, its technology framework was also built on assumptions of the past, and it is just as proprietary as otherwise inferior commercial platforms.

    What few saw coming was the digital transformation that, ironically, has made learning technologists and their learning platforms obsolete.

    As technology embedded into the fabric of our cultures, it makes increasingly little sense to refer to a learning initiative as “digital” or “online”. It is just learning. The platforms used to support it should be either those that are already embedded in daily work or whatever the best available product happens to be at the moment, except where specific processes can be automated or facilitated by a specialized tool.

    So, what about assessment, credentialing and record-keeping?

    The first two benefit from being uncoupled from the process that supports knowledge acquisition and capability development. Sure, we can build separate assessment and credentialing based on direct observation and other forms of testing. This is where subject matter experts can be useful. However, dedicating resources to assessment in an artificial environment may not be nearly as good as figuring out how to do assessment in situ, in line with a philosophy of education that is about fostering leadership and innovation to drive change. Getting results and achieving impact should be the new credential of value.

    Why are badges and other forms of micro-credentialing going nowhere fast? First, cracking the armor of accreditation is difficult given the capacity of higher education to resist change. Second, credentialing skills, knowledge, and competencies is no longer the signal that carries value.

    The last one is a data problem. Build a modern database. Figure out how to get the data you need in and out. You do not need a learning management system to do that.

    Image: Walled garden. Personal collection.

  • Why learning professionals should strive to be leaders, not just service providers

    Why learning professionals should strive to be leaders, not just service providers

    The learning landscape is changing fast. Even the most jurassic face-to-face trainers I know are now embracing the digital transformation or at least trying to. Ephemeral fads such as the Social Age or gamification are proliferating alongside newer, more sustainable and productive approaches that match the learning contexts of humanitarians and support the development of their capabilities in a volatile world. Everyone in workplace learning – save a few proverbial ostriches going the way of the dodo bird – is trying to learn the new skills needed to operate in new ways to do new things. This is like a dream come true.

    But rethinking our roles, I believe, is going to be far more important than learning to run a webinar. Are we service providers? Are we a support service (like HR, security, and finance)? Who are really our clients, when those who pay are seldom those who learn? Can the business models of the past sustain us in the future?

    The relevance of training is being questioned. In Profit & Loss (P&L) terms, we represent a cost center with often intangible return and consequently shrinking budgets. Cooking up a new evaluation framework is not going to change that. There are more people learning in the workplace than in universities. Yet it is higher education that remains a juicy business with 60% or more gross margins and lush endowments. (How did you think universities erect all these buildings?)

    Years ago, a defrocked high priest of corporate learning called me a learning leader. Conflating leadership and authority, I had never been pretentious enough to see myself as a “leader”, much less one for learning. Yet, within my organization, I had become an advocate of learning innovation, building the case, gathering evidence, engaging with stakeholders, and doing everything else I could think of to help the organization improve how it learns.

    The idea of learning leadership initially seemed merely inspirational and aspirational. That changed once I met Karen Watkins and discovered that her research over the last three decade has demonstrated that the strongest correlation to strengthened learning culture is exercising leadership committed to learning.

    Thinking in leadership terms enabled me to see beyond my narrow job description. To truly serve the organization’s mission, I had to transform from a technical manager overseeing a procurement pipeline of over 80 dull, single-loop e-learning and find the courage within myself (there was none in management) to stop the assembly line. As the first Ivy League MOOCs made headlines, I struggled to figure out what these changes in higher education might mean for humanitarian workers and communities strengthening their resilience. Increasingly, the realization came that I would have to challenge the boundaries, to explore new approaches. And then George Siemens‘s clarity in describing what the changing nature of knowledge means for learning blew my mind.

    And so I took a webcast lecture series and was astonished by how easy it was to transmute it into an open, scalable learning experience connecting a thousand staff and volunteers from over 100 countries. The hard part had been to overcome resistance from the gatekeepers and then helping stakeholders grapple with the significance of both the economy of effort and the potential of impact. This drew on what we were already learning from MOOCs, but without mimicking a higher university model that is not directly transposable to our context (as some are trying to do now, six years later). It cost nearly nothing and was more inclusive and productive than the face-to-face, three-day event that happened concurrently. Bill Cope and Mary Kalantzis visited me in Geneva shortly thereafter.

    It became morally wrong to do what I had been tasked with by a clueless manager. I left the relatively-comfortable seat and position I held to jump into the unknown. The rate of internal change was simply too slow.

    By then, I had found like-minded leaders and innovators to forge a new, unbeaten path, leading me to create LSi and then, in March 2016, the Geneva Learning Foundation. Along the way, my understanding of the significance of leadership for humanitarian work in general and for learning in particular grew tremendously, mostly thanks to the vision and clarity of others walking on the edges.

    I understand that instructional designers and other learning professionals need to eat. Acquiescing to a client who has, for example, become a gamification zealot may be easier than challenging them to consider other approaches. Requests for proposals (RFPs) may leave no room for suggesting quality improvements, to put it mildly. Some people prefer to bet on slow career progression, hopping from one role to the next, biding their time. These are very individual choices. Not everyone can afford to be a risk-taking maverick. There are many ways to exercise leadership for learning, regardless of position, rank, or experience.  I do question, nevertheless, whether slow-and-steady survival strategies remain as viable today as they were in the past, given the volatility and uncertainty of change.

    In 2016, during the Foundation’s first #DigitalScholar experiment, tutoring a young learning leader quickly morphed into mentoring. She initially described her role as figuring out which tool to use for e-learning production in relation to the learning needs she had identified, to then apply sound principles of instructional design, and finally to deliver a high-quality learning product. There was nothing wrong with her thinking, except for a startling lack of imagination about her own potential. Within ten or 15 years, she will be in a decision-making role. If the learning function is to achieve relevance and impact as a strategic business partner, she needs to think critically beyond her own role and explore what future roles are likely to demand. She needs to make her best effort to see look around the corner, to anticipate what is coming next while managing the unknown. And she needs to challenge her own capabilities by looking beyond her current but obsolete learning technologist role to a more holistic view of herself as a leader for learning, growing her skills to wield multiple lenses that can shape learning culture to not only drive performance and results but also help her blossom and thrive.

    Image: Goldfish in Efteling. Personal collection.

  • New learning for radiation emergency medical preparedness and assistance

    New learning for radiation emergency medical preparedness and assistance

    My presentation for the Geneva Learning Foundation at the 15th meeting of the WHO Radiation Emergency Medical Preparedness and Assistance Network (REMPAN), World Health Organization, Geneva – 3-5 July 2017.

    The 15th meeting of the WHO Radiation Emergency Medical Preparedness and Assistance Network (REMPAN) Geneva 3–5 July 2017
    The 15th meeting of the WHO Radiation Emergency Medical Preparedness and Assistance Network (REMPAN) Geneva 3–5 July 2017

    Featured image: Participants of the Radiation Effects Research Foundation’s (RERF) Seventh Epidemiological Training Workshop for Biologists. The objective of the RERF is to conduct research and studies for peaceful purposes on medical effects of radiation and associated diseases in humans, with a view to contributing to maintenance of the health and welfare of the atomic bomb (A-bomb) survivors and to enhancement of the health of all humankind.

  • 4 rules for the digital transformation of partnerships

    4 rules for the digital transformation of partnerships

    This is a recorded version of my presentation, followed by Catherine Russ‘s report on a session that I presented and facilitated at the Remote partnering workshop held on 23-26 January 2017 in Caernarfon, Wales.

    Here is what Catherine Russ wrote in the workshop’s Report on Technology and Learning.

    In this session we delved into the reality that partnerships often become remote because those involved can no longer afford to meet together physically. Increasingly, collaboration, dialogue, and feedback are simply assumed to take place from a distance. What do we lose – and is there anything to gain – when the rules have changed:

    1. Sharing physical space is no longer a necessary condition to partnering.
    2. Sharing physical space is increasingly a medium in which we can no longer afford to develop partnerships.
    3. The value of shared physical space is primarily cultural, a rapid way to accrue social capital that underpins social relations.
    4. What we are enabled to do from a distance using technology is changing rapidly – more rapidly than what we can do in a shared physical space – leaving us confused, and perhaps even fearful, of what this change means for the quality or even the future of our partnerships.

    In addressing the use of technology at the Remote Partnering Project Design Lab, the irony did not escape us that sixteen or so of us were sitting face-to-face. The plan had been to bring some participants in from other continents on a remote basis to input as and when possible, but several factors prevented this from happening. Experience and advice has suggested in the past that combining remote and face-to-face can often cause more problems than opting for one or the other and this experience seemed to confirm that advice.

    Reda Sadki, who leads a partnership that is tackling such questions to improve digital learning, was invited to facilitate a session to explore the current challenges being experienced by those working remotely and uncover some of the emerging solutions. The idea that working remotely is a ‘second cousin’ to and ‘second best’ option to face-to-face had already been challenged and (somewhat) deflated in previous sessions and therefore this session focussed on how to leverage the new economy of effort that technology allows for working remotely as outlined in the following affordances (literally and figuratively what we can ‘afford’ to do).

    So, rather than addressing technology from the perspective of trying to replicate what partners produce when face-to-face and addressing the shortfalls of these, Reda proposed that participants think through how their partnering work is already being transformed by digital technologies. Could partners – who mostly seem to experience remote working as a constraint – leverage this transformation to resolve dilemmas inherent in such common partnership challenges as:

    • Moving from strategy to implementation
    • Putting reporting practice to use
    • Documenting experience (e.g. case studies) o Fostering collaboration across silos
    • Bringing static knowledge to life (e.g. making global guidelines relevant and useful to communities)

    In fact, Reda provided practical examples of an emerging approach (known as the “Scholar Approach”) that aims to connect partners, from centre to periphery, to strengthen networks through peer-to-peer collaboration:

    • The Norwegian Red Cross mobilized a global community of action, convening over 800 pre- hospital emergency workers from 70 countries to co-develop over 70 case studies of violence and risk in four weeks.
    • The World Health Organization connected public health officers from 30 countries to develop country-specific action plans based on new global guidelines for routine immunization.
    • The Geneva Learning Foundation mobilized over 900 participants from over 100 countries to jointly develop 94 new digital learning initiatives – effectively showing how this approach could be replicated and democratized.

    In Reda’s words: “This collaborative, flexible, motivating, participatory and supportive approach is not simply a nicer, kinder and gentler form of learning: Its pedagogical patterns closely emulate the core competencies of 21st century humanitarian workers, who are expected to be able to manage complex, overlapping knowledge flows, to work in networked configurations (rather than command- and-control structures) and to use participatory methodologies to partner with affected populations.”

    You can learn more about the Remote Partnering Project on its web site.

    Image: Dawn in Trigonos, Snowdonia National Park, Caernarfon, Wales (personal collection).

  • Learning technologists are obsolete

    Learning technologists are obsolete

    These are some notes on one of several blog posts that are churning in my head about what digital transformation means for learning and leadership. Warning: these are the kinds of wild, roughshod, low-brow, unrefined contentions that might just make the reasonable and respectable Mister S. choke on his Chivito.

    Many of the pionneers of “e-learning” fought long and hard to have the value of technology for learning recognized and new tools put to use by educators. Their achievements are significant. Today, for example, many universities now have teams that support teaching staff in the effective use of learning technologies. (Ironically, the former may provide one of the rare occasions for the latter  to examine their teaching practice, but that is a different topic…). However, when I speak to young professors from fields outside of education, they describe such services as peripheral or marginal. At best, the learning technologies people help them set up a WordPress site to host their course content, or maybe transfer their syllabus into Moodle. That is not insignificant, but it is unlikely to be transformative.

    Cathy Davidson and David Theo Goldberg pointed out almost a decade ago in The Future of Learning Institutions in a Digital Age that “modes of learning have changed dramatically over the past two decades — our sources of information, the ways we exchange and interact with information, how information informs and shapes us. But our schools — how we teach, where we teach, who we teach, who teaches, who administers, and who services—have changed mostly around the edges.” Institutions of higher education, if only by virtue of their financial position (think Harvard’s endowment) are built to endure change, unlike the newsroom or the record industry. “It seems as though online learning” wrote Burck Smith three years later, “is simply a ‘feature enhancement’ that allows colleges to make their offerings attractive to more people.”

    Admittedly, interesting things can and do happen in the margins. In fact, the modesty and constance of learning technologists who actually deliver new ways of doing new things are two characteristics that stand at stark odds with the snake oil that characterizes a Silicon Valley flavor of edtech littered by empty boasts of technological solutionism.

    Furthermore, this change around the edges is no failing of the often talented, dedicated, and passionate individuals who have advocated for more effective use of learning technologies inside their institutions.

    It is, rather, that the rate of change they produced turned out to be far slower than that of the tidal wave of Digital Transformation that is spilling over our societies.

    Our lives are now permeated by digital. It is embedded into everything we do, not just the tools we use but our way of life and culture. That impacts education, of course. In fact, it does so in ways that are more significant, far-reaching, and profound than anyone explicitly advocating the use of technology for learning. Explicit advocacy is, in a way, an admission that you are trying to effect change from the margins. The more deeply technology embeds itself into the fabric of our lives, the less such a position is likely to be tenable.

    How could the role of education be limited to providing better tools, in the midst of a Fourth Industrial Revolution or Second Machine Age, in which a range of new technologies are fusing the physical, digital and biological worlds?

    As a geeky teenager  learning to program in BASIC in the 1980s, I was an avid reader of BYTE Magazine, an amazingly thick (with ads), monthly compendium of the best technology journalism of the pre-Internet nascent personal computer industry. Technology was covered as an industry, mostly through the lens of markets, products, and specifications, by tech journalists whose names and personalities I began to recognize, from Mister Congeniality Leo Laporte to professional curmudgeon John C. Dvorak.  It wasn’t until 2011 that Nilay Patel and the rest of the crew at The Verge emerged as a new breed of fully-digital journalism at the intersection of technology and culture:

    “The Verge is an ambitious multimedia effort founded in 2011 to examine how technology will change life in the future for a massive mainstream audience. Our original editorial insight was that technology had migrated from the far fringes of the culture to the absolute center as mobile technology created a new generation of digital consumers. Now, we live in a dazzling world of screens that has ushered in revolutions in media, transportation, and science. The future is arriving faster than ever.”

    That kind of insight is what is missing from the “learning technologist” standpoint. It highlights both the centrality of technology in our culture and the increasing velocity of change.

    In the Digital Transformation, if culture does not swallow up technology at breakfast, it will do so by dinner time. To be a learning technologist today – what may have been forward-looking or even courageous in the past – is to be on the wrong end of history.

    Image: Cover of BYTE Magazine, January 1986 (Vol. 11, No. 1).

  • Mission accomplished

    Mission accomplished

    We won.

    • The former school teacher and humanitarian trainer who argued vociferously that nothing would ever supplant face-to-face training is now running a MOOC.
    • The training manager who refused to consider e-learning is now running a distance learning, scenario-based simulation. People he trains are now working remotely – and a simulation, dirt-cheap and run by e-mail, is closer to modelling the real world than is the artificially and unrealistically “safe space” of the high-cost, low-volume training room. Work went through digital transformation before “training” did.
    • The old-school learning and development manager is getting certified to run webinars. Through practice, she has surprised herself by how much she feels when running a session.
    • A digital course run ahead of a face-to-face workshop mobilized ten times as many (people), for ten times less (money). Course participants produced tangible artefacts, directly applicable to work, through collaboration and peer review. And they did not need to take time off in order to do so. The outcome of the physical-world, residential experience is less tangible. Or, with a double entendre, one could say: more virtual.

    These are not stories of the superiority of one medium over another. They are stories of the accelerating pace of change.

    These are not stories of victory. They are stories of experiencing our humanity in and through new, rapidly-changing spaces where we work, live, and grow.

    This is how we learn.

    Image: A metaphor for irony. Bush delivers a speech to crew onboard the USS Abraham Lincoln to declare combat operations over in Iraq, as the carrier steamed toward San Diego, California on May 1, 2003 (Larry Downing/file/Reuters).

  • Beyond MOOCs: the democratization of digital learning

    Beyond MOOCs: the democratization of digital learning

    It is with some trepidation that I announce the Geneva Learning Foundation’s first open access digital course in partnership with the University of Illinois College of Education and Learning Strategies International.

    The mission of the brand-new Geneva Learning Foundation is to connect learning leaders to research, invent, and trial breakthrough approaches for new learning, talent and leadership as a way of shaping humanity and society for the better.

    This open access, four-week (16 hours total) online course will start on 4 July 2016 and end on the 29th. It will be taught by Bill CopeCatherine Russ, and myself, three of the eleven charter members of the Foundation.

    We’ll be using Scholar to teach the latest digital learning pedagogies. Everyone will develop, peer review, and revise an outline for a course relevant to their own context of work. This outline is intended to be the practical basis for developing and offering an actual course – so this is no academic exercise.

    The course is tightly aligned by this mission, both theoretically and practically:

    • Theoretically, learning – like almost everything else – is being remade by digital. Learning in a knowledge society is a key process to change, hence the urgency and centrality of thinking through what digital transformation means with respect to knowledge and learning.
    • Practically, it will convene learning professionals who will collaborate to develop new ways of teaching and learning

    You will notice that there is no reference specifically to the humanitarian context in the course announcement. I hope that participants will come from many different industries, and that all stand to benefit by new learning approaches we have developed on the edge of chaos.

    Please do share the course announcement with trusted colleagues and networks. And, if you are free in July, don’t miss it. I am betting that this first run will gather an eclectic group of learning mavericks and at least a few of those whom Cath calls edge-walkers, not just fellow humanitarians but folks from other industries operating in the same, increasingly-complex world.

    So why claim that this is “beyond MOOCs”? I do not mean to imply that this course is somehow a successor to massive open online courses (MOOCs). Rather, I have written elsewhere about how MOOCs remain mostly about the transmission of knowledge. This course is about learners as active knowledge producers. I believe this is an important distinction. (Seb Schmoller argues that strong learning design can organize a beautiful, effective learning journey in just about any architecture. This, to me, is akin to saying that even a car can be made to fly – you just need to strap on some wings…)

    There is an equally important distinction when defining what we mean by the democratization of learning: is this about scale (more learners with access to education)? Or is it about a paradigm change in what learners get to do: learning anywhere and any time by actively designing meanings and making knowledge they can use, thinking about thinking (metacognition), giving each other recursive feedback as they collaborate to solve problems… in other words, being teachers in a Digital Age?

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  • Convergence and cross-fertilisation between publishing and learning: an interview with Toby Green and Reda Sadki

    Convergence and cross-fertilisation between publishing and learning: an interview with Toby Green and Reda Sadki

    By John Helmer

    We’re in a world where people don’t really understand what they want until you put it in front of them,’ says Toby Green Head of Publishing at OECD. He’s talking about the challenge of creating new digital products in a technology landscape that is changing very quickly (with no end to the ‘technology treadmill’ in sight) and where market research is of limited value; where what happened in the past in educational publishing is a poor guide to what will happen in the future.

    This reflection comes from looking at OECD’s markets, which span both higher education and the workplace, and a remit that embraces not only information dissemination but, to a degree, instruction. We’re talking convergence.

    Toby Green will chair the plenary session on ‘Cross-fertilisation’ at the ALPSP International Conference. The convergence of the education and workplace learning markets is likely to be a theme for this session, so we took the opportunity to convene a three-way discussion involving Reda Sadki, a learning innovation strategist who is working with OECD on precisely this area.

    We discussed drivers for convergence, some of its effects, and also opportunities and threats for publishers.

    Moving beyond a dissemination mindset

    Reda’s vantage point on this phenomenon of convergence is informed by his time at the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (the IFRC), where he pivoted from managing publishing to ‘learning systems’. The IFRC, he says, was an organization that published massive amounts of information (750 information products, 12 million printed pages in 2009), with “little measurable impact”. ‘Ultimately I came to the realisation that the value in what was being published by the world’s largest humanitarian network could be found in the instructional and training materials, with a global audience of 17 million Red Cross and Red Crescent volunteers. Where you could find impact was in the publications that teach people in a humanitarian emergency how to do very basic things such as putting up a tent and providing first aid care.’

    He characterises the transition this realisation prompted as being from a concern over maximising dissemination – counting eyeballs and downloads – to looking at a deeper kind of impact in terms of what was happening behind the eyeballs. It is a shift that he implies publishers need to make themselves if they are to capitalise on the opportunities offered by this convergence.

    Drivers of convergence

    Reda sees two fundamental shifts driving convergence.

    One is about changes in the economy of effort to do certain things. Publishing starts with dissemination and under the traditional model would tend to stop at that. It doesn’t necessary look at look at what people are doing with what it disseminates – largely because, pre-internet, it would have been uneconomic to do so. Technology has lowered the cost of, for instance, collecting rich data about what people are doing with a particular piece of knowledge.

    The other is about the changing nature of knowledge itself. The book gave us a ‘container’ view of knowledge, where now – with knowledge flows getting faster all the time – it looks more like a process than a product. Attempts to capture and compartmentalise knowledge are doomed to fail, in his view, as they do not provide the answers that we need to be able to provide it in any useful way. Being an expert today is much more about knowing where and knowing how than it is about the individual accumulating large amounts of knowledge.

    Echoing Reda’s first point, but framing it in a perhaps broader context, Toby sees the appearance of new possibilities for action with the advent of digital as the decisive factor. ‘If you think of the offline world, on both the publishing side and the education/training side, there were some natural constraints to what you could do …’

    The book (or textbook, or journal) was bound. It had a finite number of pages and could be shipped to only so many people. The classroom could only have a finite number of people in it, and was very difficult to scale without massive expense in both infrastructure and people (i.e. teachers). Online removes a lot of those scaling constraints; so a class that could previously only reach 30 people can now reach hundreds of thousands.

    Online has also massively lowered the cost of updating published information. A new print edition of a textbook, for example, is a major undertaking. In the offline world updates to knowledge would happen in batches, because it wasn’t feasible to do it in any other way. Online allows you to have a rolling update – giving us the concept of a living book – or, equally, a course that is constantly being tweaked and kept up to date.

    These changes allow new ways of thinking. There are significant changes to the old paradigms – but they are changes that a lot of people are still trying to get used to, both on the education side and on the publishing side.

    One area that publishing has been very successful in, Toby feels is integrating technology with content, and he gave several examples of workflow tools such as Mendeley that bear this out, and the work of other players in the wider information industry such as Bloomberg and Reuters.

    However going beyond these essentially resource-based models and becoming more instrumental in the process of learning is another matter, and considering this led us to look at the different cultures these converging (or colliding) industries have.

    Culture and authority

    One of the most beautiful things about publishing, in Reda’s view, is the way in which culture, in both the specific and the wider senses of that word, is embedded in its fabric. This gives a different feel for the value of the content, and its importance in terms of the emotional relationship we have with works of the mind and aspects such as cultural diversity in what is published. While e-learning taps into a rich history of learning theories and education, it still has something to learn, he feels, from the culture of publishing in this respect.

    Knowledge management, by contrast – which he feels to have failed – seems obsessed with putting pieces of data into pigeonholes, without proper regards to the more important activity of building a culture to make sense of the vast amounts of information and data that organisations receive and generate.

    From the publishing side, Toby observed that the linkage of education and training has always been weak. Textbook sales were seen as by-product of publishing activity, where existing titles were picked up on by educators – or else the preserve of a highly specialised branch of publishing that knew how to do them.

    Now, with the collapse of barriers that limited thinking in the offline world, and with digital reducing costs and lowering barriers to entry, the idea of publishers working with partners to adapt their content to create courses is far more achievable. And here is a further cultural change: the idea of working with partners. ‘Before, companies did everything themselves; they didn’t really use networks of freelancers and partners in the way we do now’.

    My own reflection on the different cultures, having worked in e-learning and digital publishing, is that there is less concern about provenance of knowledge on the training side of the fence. Academic publishing has a culture of sources, citation and reference that is currently in the process of automating in a characteristically rigorous way (CrossRef, ORCID, etc.). In e-learning, on the other hand, where content is often produced using an organisation’s internal SME knowledge, individual authorship tends to be more submerged, and it is often possible to wonder: where is this point of view coming from; who is telling me this?

    As somebody who works for a ‘who’ (the OECD) Toby can’t help but believe that at the point of convergence, this difference offers an opportunity for organisations like his own whose content carries the stamp of accepted and established authority in their particular field. This could also apply to the learned societies, but doesn’t necessarily hold true for larger, more generalist commercial publishers.

    Effects of convergence, chilling and otherwise

    Given the way that internet power laws operate in any online space – tending to favour one or a very few brands and condemn everyone else to place on the ‘long tail’, these questions of identity and authority are critical online. Certainly their effects have been seen in the case of MOOCs.

    Arguably, it is the presence of educational ‘super-brands’ such as Harvard and Stanford that has allowed online education to break through to public consciousness in the way it now has, under the banner of MOOCs. Interestingly however, other HE institutions in this rarified upper strata that have chosen not to participate in this gold-rush so far – notably Oxford and Cambridge in the UK – don’t seem to be especially troubled by the phenomenon.

    It is the ‘squeezed middle’ of second tier universities who see MOOCs as a threat to their livelihood, and the opinion of many is that solution in future will be for institutions to find or build specialisms in particular unique areas. Get ‘niche’.

    Reda locates a particular opportunity here in the troubled issue of ‘the fit in today’s world of the capacity of universities to prepare people for the workforce or for the demands of society’. Sub-degree, competency-based qualifications represent, in his view, ‘a huge gaping hole’ that knowledge-producing institutions are in a privileged position to address.

    He cites a client he worked with who had seen an Oxford University course on the area they worked in, but believed they could themselves build one ‘a hundred times better’. This sparked for him the idea that an organisation that has the practice – that actually does the job – could now, through the affordances of technology, build an educational offering of high quality.

    An organisation that in addition starts with a strong publishing function is particularly well placed since they will already have the quality development processes that will make it much easier to build educational experiences around that content.

    Playing the long game

    Of course, underlying all this talk of opportunities is the necessity for publishers to make their digital investments pay, and while moving into creating educational experiences around content might represent an opportunity for some organisations, there usually has to be some threat element in play to compel action.

    Reda pointed to the scrabble for data around MOOCs, which as early as 2013 prompted publishers to offer access to their textbooks within MOOCs in return for the user data. In a data-driven world, he would consider not having some such access to this type of data as a risk.

    This has to be see in the context of attempts by publishers to use digital to bring textbooks to life, not all of which have proved wildly successful with users, and the idea, argued by some, that MOOCs themselves are textbooks: that, ‘MOOCs perhaps represent the first form of digital textbook to reach a mass audience’.

    Given factors like these, organisations can’t afford to not experiment and try new things if their businesses are to grow and survive.

    In Toby’s view, publishers still largely think they’re in the business of selling content. He sees very few examples of textbook publishers migrating online in a way that works. ‘Part of the challenge is that since individuals are so reluctant to spend any money for content online – and bearing in mind that the offline textbook market was largely an individual-purchase model – it is very hard to see how a textbook publisher is going to get a return if they simply put their textbook online’.

    Data driven-models mean that money is made elsewhere than in the same transaction, so the challenge is to look at your publishing business in the round. A publisher such as Wiley, whose acquisitions in the learning space follow a strategy around the lifetime value of a customer – from education through to their professional life – might (notionally) balance losses in one part of the business by larger gains in another. This would involve looking at the value of the individual rather than the value of the training.

    ‘That’s what makes the web so hard, but at the same time so interesting: you have to consider where the value is, and the lifetime value could be very long … it’s very difficult to look individually at each particular piece: you have to look at it holistically.’