Michael Wesch
Michael Wesch
Michael Wesch
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MICHAEL WESCH<br />
Associate Professor of Cultural Anthropology and Coffman<br />
Chair for Distinguished Teaching Scholars at Kansas State<br />
University, KS, USA<br />
BUILDING CULTURES OF CREATIVITY IN THE<br />
AGE OF THE KNOWLEDGE MACHINE
Building cultures of creativity in the age<br />
of the Knowledge Machine<br />
<strong>Michael</strong> <strong>Wesch</strong><br />
Twenty years ago, Seymour Papert visited a preschool where he<br />
was drawn into a discussion led by inquisitive four-year-olds on<br />
the matter of how giraffes sleep. He was impressed by what he<br />
called “a bumper crop of good theories” but no theory could<br />
come to grips with the matter of where the giraffe would put<br />
its head (Papert, 1993). Though Papert himself had grown up<br />
in Africa, he had to admit that he did not know how a giraffe<br />
slept, and so it remained a mystery.<br />
sleep” of giraffa camelopardalis which explain that a giraffe<br />
often sleeps by resting its head on its “croup” - and if you<br />
don’t know what a croup is you can perform an image search<br />
which will reveal a picture of the position: the giraffe’s long<br />
neck twisting around to its hind-quarters including the clever<br />
caption, “Oh Butt, I love you.”<br />
That evening, Papert did what people often did twenty years<br />
ago when confronted by such a mystery. He consulted his personal<br />
library of books. He never did find out how giraffes sleep.<br />
Even his great library was not up to the task. However, Papert<br />
also knew that such barriers were about to fall. He imagined a<br />
machine that would allow even small children to use “speech,<br />
touch, or gestures” to quickly navigate “through a knowledge<br />
space much broader than the contents of any printed encyclopedia.”<br />
He called it “the Knowledge Machine” (Papert, 1993).<br />
And here we are. Billions of people are connecting and collaborating<br />
on a global network and the artifacts of this collaboration<br />
- which include enough knowledge and know-how to<br />
dwarf even the greatest libraries throughout all of history - is<br />
now accessible with any one of the various devices that we<br />
carry around with us. This “Knowledge Machine” will give you<br />
56,000 videos of giraffes ranging from jerky cell phone footage<br />
to costly Animal Planet productions, and over 15,000 websites<br />
that directly answer the question of how giraffes sleep. Google<br />
Scholar offers several scientific articles on the “paradoxical<br />
Cultures of Creativities<br />
73
However, Papert was not interested in simple information<br />
retrieval, nor would he have been especially impressed by<br />
online educational efforts like Massive Open Online Courses<br />
(MOOCs) and the Khan Academy which promise to radically<br />
change education. Such efforts may be more efficient and<br />
sometimes better forms of “instruction”, but Papert was not as<br />
interested in “instruction” as he was in helping students learn.<br />
In contrast to “instructionism” Papert proposed “constructionism”<br />
as an alternative mode of educational innovation,<br />
noting that knowledge is constructed by the learner, rather<br />
than transmitted by the teacher, and that one of the best ways<br />
to inspire and facilitate knowledge construction is to engage<br />
learners in constructing a meaningful product (Papert & Harel,<br />
1991).<br />
By harnessing and leveraging the “Knowledge Machine” to<br />
engage students in real problems and projects, Papert hoped<br />
to fulfill the vision of John Dewey 100 years before him<br />
(Papert, 1998). That way the otherwise authoritarian school<br />
environments that dictated to students what they should learn,<br />
and how they should learn it, while often doing great harm to<br />
their sense of autonomy and self-efficacy might be usurped.<br />
A strong sense of autonomy and self-efficacy is essential to creativity<br />
across all cultures, and finding creative domains within<br />
any given culture is often an exercise in finding spaces where<br />
authority is not pervasive, prescriptive, or unwelcoming of<br />
alternative perspectives. Indeed, some cultures have been<br />
misunderstood as placing less value on creativity simply because<br />
the domain where we might expect creativity (namely “art”<br />
which in the Western conception includes paintings, sculpture,<br />
and music) is heavily regulated and ritualized due to the power<br />
inherent in the created objects.<br />
For example, when I was doing my anthropological fieldwork<br />
among the Nekalimin in New Guinea I became interested in<br />
decorating my house with a traditional-style Nekaliin houseboard.<br />
Among the Nekalimin, houseboards are large planks of<br />
wood standing about 6 to 8 feet high decorated with geometric<br />
patterns of diamonds and triangles in red, black, and white. To<br />
my surprise, nobody could make one for me. They do not look<br />
especially difficult to make. There is little precision to their<br />
construction, the geometric designs are imprecise and fairly<br />
haphazard, lines are not straight, and paints are often mixed<br />
and smudged with little care. I was certain that it would be an<br />
easy thing to make, so I asked my friend Peni why nobody could<br />
make one for me. Peni explained that while the skill to make a<br />
houseboard was not especially great, the knowledge required<br />
to design one was reserved only for those who had been properly<br />
initiated. Houseboards are not just symbols of power,<br />
they are power, and painting one required that a particular set<br />
of ritual procedures and taboos be followed.<br />
Such rituals and taboos have led many people to report that<br />
cultures such as the Nekalimin lack a culture of innovation and<br />
creativity, but this is not true. On another occasion I climbed<br />
the mountain to Peni’s house to find him skillfully cutting<br />
a trough through the middle of a branch of wood about two<br />
Cultures of Creativities<br />
74
meters long. He then took two nails and hammered them in<br />
to the ends of the trough and went into his house to retrieve<br />
something. He came out with some old and beaten batteries<br />
that he had warmed in the fire and carefully lined them up in<br />
the trough between the two nails. He tied two wires to the nails<br />
and connected them to an old radio. He playfully laughed at his<br />
accomplishment as the radio came to life and started to sing.<br />
Over the next several years I would watch Peni fix many radios.<br />
He had no formal training. He simply studied the objects and<br />
through trial and error built up a repertoire of techniques.<br />
Throughout our schooling, which is largely based on “instruction<br />
ism,” we have been taught that knowledge comes from the<br />
expert. Peni’s knowledge of the radio developed because there<br />
was no expert. Unschooled, he was not limited to the solutions<br />
that might be taught by the expert, and so his axe was as likely<br />
to be used for a tool as a soldering iron. He mixed and melded<br />
the knowledge from many domains of his life to become a<br />
master radio technician unlike any in the Western world.<br />
This is not to say that he would not benefit from learning from<br />
otherswith expert knowledge of this domain. The example<br />
portraysa peculiar and very subtle double-aspect of expertise.<br />
On the one hand, we have all experienced the power of learning<br />
from a skilled master who can guide us beyond our current<br />
capacities. But if, on the other hand, this guidance becomes<br />
authoritarian prescription, such expertise will come at the cost<br />
of autonomy and self-efficacy.<br />
become reliant on procedures, and when they do not know a<br />
procedure for solving the problem at hand they tend to shut<br />
down and wait for the authority to guide them.<br />
When Papert and Sherry Turkle examined computer classes in<br />
the late 1980s and early 1990s they found several examples of<br />
otherwise bright and creative students shutting down as their<br />
teachers forced them away from their own styles of programming<br />
towards prescriptive procedures. The students became<br />
alienated from their work. One student noted that she had to<br />
become “another kind of person,” and called this her “not-me<br />
strategy” (Papert & Turkle, 1992).<br />
Cultures of creativity thrive wherever there is respect and<br />
space for multiple styles to flourish and play together, where<br />
novices can construct their own expertise by building from their<br />
own experiences and knowledge-base, and where “experts”<br />
remain open to learning.<br />
When we fully accept that knowledge is constructed by the<br />
learner and not simply passed from one person to another,<br />
we must also fully accept that the integrity, motivation, and<br />
self-efficacy of the learner are of utmost concern. The stakes<br />
are high. The “Knowledge Machine” does not run on its own.<br />
Without self-motivation, curiosity, and a strong sense of<br />
autonomy and self-efficacy the “Knowledge Machine” becomes<br />
nothing but a grand and powerful distraction device.<br />
The subtlety of this distinction can be illustrated with the<br />
following example. Children learning double-column addition<br />
(such as 57+25) will be told to add the “ones” column first<br />
(7+5=12), carry the 1 to the tens column, and then add the<br />
tens. Constance Kamii has shown that children universally<br />
prefer to add the tens first, and can very easily accomplish<br />
these calculations in their head in this manner (50 + 20 = 70<br />
+ 12 = 82) (Kamii & Joseph, 1988). Forcing children to add<br />
the ones column first teaches them a “procedure” that they<br />
can then apply to very large addition problems later on, but it<br />
does so at the expense of them losing their direct sense of the<br />
numbers. They start to approach math as a set of procedures<br />
that must be applied, so that when they later encounter a larger<br />
problem such as 57,123 + 25,019, they are unlikely or even<br />
unable to quickly assess that the solution will be about 82,000,<br />
or to realize that in fact the entire problem is relatively simple<br />
when broken down sensibly rather than procedurally (adding<br />
19 to 123 + 82,000 = 82,142). The larger effect is that they<br />
REFERENCES<br />
Kamii, C. & Joseph, L. (1988), ‘Teaching Place Value and Double-Column Addition’,<br />
Arithmetic Teacher, vol. 35, no. 6, pp. 48-52.<br />
Papert, S. (1993), The Children’s Machine: Rethinking School in the Age of the<br />
Computer, New York, NY: Basic Books.<br />
Papert, S. (1998), Child Power: Keys to the New Learning of the Digital Century,<br />
Colin Cherry Memorial Lecture at the Imperial College, London. June 2, 1998,<br />
accessed: May 2013, available from: http://www.papert.org/articles/Childpower.<br />
html.<br />
Papert, S. & Harel, I. (1991), Constructionism, New York, NY: Ablex Publishing<br />
Corporation.<br />
Papert, S. & Turkle, S. (1992), ‘Epistemological Pluralism and the Revaluation of the<br />
Concrete’, Journal of Mathematical Behavior, vol. 11, no. 1, pp. 3-33.<br />
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