A few years ago I made an observation. Feel free to disagree with me. My observations are often not very scientific and sometimes dead wrong but I suspect this one might ring a bell with you.
The catalyst for this observation was a series of classes in which students were reluctant to share their answers to homework questions. I started paying attention. The more concrete the question, the greater the reluctance. These were the types of questions which you could look up or calculate. You would think that these would be the easiest – or at least that is what I thought. After all, you are either right, or you’re wrong. How bad can that be?
But I’d forgotten that today’s students have little tolerance for being wrong.
Normal caveats exist – this is a broad brush stroke and not an absolute. I already owned up to the lack of scientific rigor in this exercise.
Over time in the teaching profession you start to feel compelled to avoid saying “that’s wrong”. It is too harsh. Even “that’s incorrect” might damage fragile egos and turn the student off from learning. Somehow “that is not correct” is more palatable. Maybe because the word “correct” Is prominent. It feels that all student attempts should be met with: “good answer but not what I am looking for.” Well sometimes that might be true. But often it is just pap so that we don’t have to say, “wrong.”
I deliberately (and accidentally) make mistakes so the students can point them out. I want them to see that it is okay. I tell them that when something is wrong – it is wrong. I tell them to get used to hearing: “that is absolutely correct and completely irrelevant.” I tried saying “Hmm, interesting answer” but sometimes it came out too sarcastic. Nope – now I go for the quick, easy (although not painless) “wrong” and move on. Some students will defend their wrong answer and feel a compulsion to: explain how they arrived at the answer (by a flawed route); explain to me that the question was vague (it wasn’t); or point out that they had misunderstood the wording (that’s not helping). I seemed to constantly say, “Yes, but your answer is wrong. It’s not a big deal. Don’t fret. But it is wrong.”
When I give the correct answer someone will surely say, “Oh – That’s what I meant.” Remember, we are talking about black and white questions. Two plus two equals four. Five is not close – it is not “what you meant” – it is wrong.
The exception proves the rule and I noticed a fairly definitive difference by student age. My older students, adult learners, are more hesitant and unsure of their place in academia and yet are much more likely to offer an answer to these types of questions. They may say they aren’t sure but they’ll take a chance and offer an answer. And when they are wrong they are much less concerned than their younger counterparts.
Conversely, my younger students are quite willing to answer questions where the answer is subjective.
And it is not because they are deep thinkers or good at analytical problem solving. They are still learning those higher level skills.
The clue to this mystery was provided by a student at the university some years ago. Almost all of his answers on the test were prefaced with, “In my opinion”.
When he didn’t like the mark I assigned he challenged me by saying that an opinion cannot be wrong since everyone is entitled to an opinion. I thought it was an interesting take on a common cliché. I told him that it was true that he could have an opinion. But some opinions could be categorically wrong and some might be demonstrably flawed. In any event, any opinion, to be considered valid, must take the facts into consideration and be supported by some – well, something.
I think that some students (and others) are very comfortable with their opinion. They feel a sense of ownership and certitude. Having made up their minds about something they can rest and ignore conflicting information finding safe harbour in opinion.
One of the biggest barriers to benefiting from education is a certainty that you already know everything that is important to know. Opinion is too often mistaken for knowledge.
So that is my observation. You may not agree – but after all, it is only my opinion.