Deciphering the Jargon

 Charles Ungerleider, Professor emeritus, The University of British Columbia

[permission granted to reproduce if authorship is acknowledged]  

I have been reading school board strategic plans lately and realize that we use a variety of terms in education to express our intentions. Too often the words 'goals', 'objectives', 'strategies', 'measures', and 'metrics' lack meaning because they are used imprecisely, though each has a purpose in describing our intentions.  

The term 'goal' refers to the broad, overarching vision that a school board, school, or teacher wants to achieve. Goals are usually long-term and encompass wide-ranging areas of development. For instance, a goal could be to enhance students' literacy skills or to foster a community of critical thinkers.  

Objectives are specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-bound (SMART) targets set to accomplish goals. They are more precise than goals and have a shorter timeframe. An objective that aligns with the goal of enhancing students' literacy skills might be expressed as: to increase the average reading level of students in grade three by one level by the end of the academic year. Although laudable, the objective to make learning fun lacks the specificity and measurability required to make it an effective objective.  

Strategies are the methods or approaches that will be used to achieve the objectives that have been established. They are action-oriented and detail the specific activities that will be undertaken. A strategy to increase the reading level, for example, might be implement a peer reading program where students read together twice a week, and conduct monthly assessments to track progress. The statement to use more technology in class is vague; it does not provide a clear roadmap for achieving any objective.  

Measures refer to the specific tools or means of gathering data to evaluate the success of strategies in achieving objectives. In the literacy example above, a measure could be administer monthly reading assessments and compare scores to baseline levels at the start of the year.  While observation is a method of gathering data, the statement observe students during class isn't a measure because it fails to specify what is being observed and how the data will be used.  

Metrics are specific indicators or units of measurement used to quantify the data collected using measures. Using the literacy example above, a metric could be the number of reading levels a student improves over the academic year. While the amount of time students spend reading could provide valuable information, it is not a direct indicator of the objective (increasing reading levels), making it a less effective and less relevant metric.  

Goals, objectives, strategies, measures, and metrics are interrelated terms that one might employ as a framework for improving educational outcomes in elementary and secondary schools. Goals offer the vision, objectives provide specific targets, strategies outline the pathway, measures offer the tools for assessment, and metrics provide units for quantifying progress. Each plays a part when they are used with precision.

 

Public Confidence in Education

 Charles Ungerleider, Professor Emeritus, The University of British Columbia

[permission to reproduce granted if authorship is acknowledged]  

As of 2018, public confidence in education in Canada had been stable for a decade. Slightly greater than three-quarters of the population (77%) expressed satisfaction with their schools and in the education system generally. The approval rate for all OECD countries was 65%. Canada trailed Ireland and most Nordic countries (84%), Slovenia and the Netherlands (81%) and exceeded the United States at 67%.  Anecdotal evidence suggests that confidence in public education may have been affected by the way education systems addressed the challenges of the COVID pandemic, but I have yet to see any systematically collected data.  

If the 77% satisfaction score was a letter grade, Canada’s education system would be a solid B to B+. That’s not bad. But there are some things that might be done to increase public confidence in the system and improve its impact upon students.  

Teaching is too complicated to leave to generalists. Generalist teachers are pretty good. They are in many respects like my family physician. She is adept at handling many everyday maladies, but when she encounters something beyond her realm of expertise, she refers her patients to specialists.  

Individuals preparing to teach develop specializations: language arts, social studies, science, mathematics, technology studies, etc. I am a certificated teacher whose specialization is social studies (civics and history). I am an adept reader and can apply statistical techniques with reasonable success. I could not however teach beginning readers or grade 8 mathematics. Nevertheless, if I agreed, I could be employed to teach either in British Columbia.  

Teacher certification in British Columbia does not designate the areas in which teachers have prepared. It should. Elementary teachers should be required to demonstrate proficiency in literacy and numeracy since they establish the foundation in those two crucial areas. The certificates earned by secondary teachers should designate the teacher’s area of instructional expertise. All teachers should be encouraged to expand their areas of expertise beyond the fields in which they were initially prepared.  

To the best of my knowledge, teaching is the only regulated profession in British Columbia that does not require practitioners to maintain the currency of their knowledge of teaching. Of course, many teachers do. But there is no requirement that they do. There should be.  

Teachers prepared in British Columbia have typically completed a practicum (student teaching) of approximately four months, during which their fitness to practice is assessed. If they have migrated from other jurisdictions, the period during which their entry-to-practice competency was assessed may have been shorter.  

Lengthening the practicum is something I favor, but I think the first two years of teaching should be probationary and one during which beginning teachers are mentored by their peers and have their performance evaluated regularly. A longer period of probationary practice would likely improve the quality of instruction provided by beginning teachers and enhance the public’s confidence in education.  

As good as a B or B+ may be, it may not be sufficient to retain the support of some parents. Private school enrollments in British Columbia have been growing incrementally. The implementation of the changes suggested above may help to counter the perception among some that “good is not good enough.”

 

It’s Crazy Making

 

Charles Ungerleider, Professor Emeritus, The University of British Columbia

[permission to reproduce granted if authorship is acknowledged]  

When confronted by uncertainty, my mother used to say, “it’s crazy making.” She was not unusually anxious. In fact, she was among the most placid people I have known. Nonetheless, she knew that uncertainty caused stress.  

Most of us manage the stress that uncertainty engenders by seeking information. I consult the weather forecast to reduce uncertainty about whether it will rain tomorrow or the next day. I reduce my uncertainty about my retirement income by use information about company performance, economic indicators, and market trends to make investment decisions.  

When my physician diagnosed a medical condition a couple of years ago, I asked her how she arrived at her diagnosis. She said that she had considered my medical history, symptoms, and the results of the diagnostic tests she had ordered to reduce her uncertainty and that, in turn, reduced my anxiety.   

Education is a complex process influenced by many factors that create uncertainty. The diversity of learner characteristics, complexity of subject matter, classroom dynamics, and socio-cultural and other influences (COVID-19, for example) make the outcomes of decision-making uncertain. I often wonder why people do not make use of the information at our disposal to reduce uncertainty.  

The idea that information reduces uncertainty can be traced to the foundations of information theory and the work of Claude Shannon, a mathematician and electrical engineer. Shannon introduced the concept of "entropy" as a measure of uncertainty, surprise, or information content. He used this concept to quantify the amount of uncertainty that could be reduced by a piece of information. In other words, the more information you have, the less uncertain you are.  

While originally intended for communication and signal processing, Shannon’s foundational concepts can be applied to decision-making in education. As stated above, the more information you have about something, the less uncertainty there is about it. In education, this implies using information about students such as their learning progress, classroom dynamics, etc., to reduce the uncertainty about making decisions about teaching strategies, individual student interventions, curriculum adjustments, or school-wide policies.  

We could apply Shannon's concept of entropy that he used to measure uncertainty of information content metaphorically to education. We might think about educational 'entropy' as the degree of uncertainty or lack of knowledge we have about a student's learning. To reduce this entropy, we need to gather more relevant 'information' through assessments, observations, and feedback—which can guide our decision-making.  

We could think about Shannon's idea of channel capacity—the maximum rate of information that can be sent over a communication channel without error— in terms of cognitive load in learning. The human brain can only process a certain amount of information at once. Knowing that, we can organize instruction in manageable chunks to avoid overwhelming students.  

Shannon also talked about noise as the errors or interferences that can affect the accuracy of a signal during transmission. In education, 'noise' can be any factor that impedes teaching or learning—like classroom disruptions, misconceptions, or even emotional distress. By identifying and minimizing these 'noises', we can enhance the 'signal' (i.e., the teaching-learning process).  

Shannon also discussed redundancy in information, noting that redundancy can help in error detection and correction during communication. In education, we can think about redundancy as reviewing and reinforcing concepts to help students better understand and retain information.  

Although Shannon's ideas were not developed for education, their metaphorical application to education provides a way of thinking about and understanding the complexities of educational decision-making, information management, and effective teaching-learning processes. 

Meritocracy and Equity

Charles Ungerleider, Professor Emeritus, The University of British Columbia

[Permission to reproduce granted if authorship is acknowledged]  

In a National Post opinion piece, author Jamie Sarkonak critiques the Toronto District School Board's (TDSB) decision to replace merit-based admissions to specialty education programs with what he describes as a racial lottery system. According to Sarkonak, this system is counterproductive to promoting fairness in education.  

Under the new system, 20% of seats in special programs have been reserved for Black, Middle Eastern, Latin American, and Indigenous students. Sarkonak argues this approach neglects the real issue at hand: socio-economic disadvantage. Instead, it places the problem squarely on race, a move which Sarkonak believes undermines the principles of meritocracy. Some parents and community members have expressed concern about the shift in admissions policy, arguing that it ignores the hard work and achievements of students, replacing merit with sheer luck. Others have applauded the change because it levels the playing field for racialized students who are often under-represented in such programs.  

The principle of meritocracy – that each person's status should be a direct reflection of their individual talent and effort – holds a significant place in The North American mythology: the image of the resilient and plucky young man (yes, man because that is the dominant imagery in the myth) overcoming hardship and becoming rich.  

Equity, on the other hand, calls attention to the broader societal structures that shape individual opportunities. This principle prompts reflection on the systemic injustices that have often been entangled in Canada's progress, asking us to question how to promote fairness in the distribution of resources and opportunities.  

Canadians have contended with these two principles at other points throughout Canadian history. For instance, the late 19th and early 20th century was a time of rapid industrial growth and burgeoning faith in meritocracy. The Canadian Pacific Railway's completion symbolized the triumph of industrial ambition and individual fortitude. However, the harsh realities faced by many workers, including the often-overlooked contributions of Chinese immigrants, underlined the vast inequities that existed.  

Reforms in the 20th century, particularly with the advent of the welfare state after the Great Depression and World War II, demonstrated a growing concern for equity. Policies such as universal health care, introduced in the 1960s, spoke to a collective commitment to diminish systemic barriers and improve access to essential services for all Canadians.  

As evidenced by the debate at the Toronto District School Board, the debate about meritocracy and equity continues to shape Canadian public discourse. Debates about issues such as Indigenous rights, immigration, and social safety nets reflect this ongoing conversation. At the heart of these discussions is a fundamental question about society's values: should individual effort be the sole determinant of success, or must we also address systemic barriers that restrict access to opportunities for certain groups?  

While the concept of meritocracy, the idea that those who work hard and possess talent should rise to the top, has an intuitive appeal, it can be argued that this perspective often overlooks the role of privilege and luck in shaping people's lives. The argument for meritocracy assumes a level playing field, where everyone starts from the same place and has the same opportunities to succeed. However, this is not the reality for most people. In an ideal meritocracy, every individual, regardless of their background, would have equal access to quality education, healthcare, and opportunities to develop their skills. Yet, many are born into circumstances with limited resources, and fewer opportunities to cultivate their abilities. These individuals face greater barriers to success, no matter how talented or hard-working they might be.  

Luck plays a significant part in life's outcomes. Even when someone has worked hard and earned their achievements, it doesn't negate the role that luck may have played. This can take the form of being born into a supportive family, meeting a mentor at a crucial point in life, or simply being in the right place at the right time. To believe one's success is purely a result of their efforts is to overlook the serendipitous nature of many – perhaps most - opportunities.  

It is crucial to remember the systemic nature of many privileges. For example, a person born into a wealthy family has access to better educational opportunities, a broader social network, and a safety net if things go wrong. Societal biases often benefit certain groups, giving them an edge in educational and career opportunities.  

While individual effort and merit are important, they are part of a larger equation. The interplay of privilege and luck can significantly impact a person's opportunities and their capacity to capitalize on them. Recognizing these factors allows us to create a more equitable society where everyone genuinely has the chance to succeed based on their merit.