Surface and deep thinking

I have a black Labrador and his name is George. George is, I have learnt over the last three years, a quintessential black lab: high energy, naughty (a more positive reframing would be playful) and desperately needy. George needs to be wherever we are all the time and with eyes like this, how can we possibly say no…

There are times when I convince myself, like all dog owners do, that George is really quite intelligent. He knows exactly what he is doing with those plaintive expressions and the whining that would break your heart.

But of course, the rationale part of me kicks in, and I remember that George is engaging in those behaviours because we have trained him to, and equally, we could have trained him out of those annoying behaviours. George knows just the right look or the right sound to make to get our attention and to get that belly rub! 

Anybody who has studied psychology knows about Ivan Pavlov and his dog. Pavlov was instrumental in developing the concept of conditioning as key to creating behaviour change. Developing a conditioned response is essential in training a dog, which is why we use treats to help dogs learn what to do and what not to do. You can get a black Labrador to do almost anything with food! 

Pavlov’s work has been foundational for understanding how to train animals and how to navigate addiction. Reward and punishment systems in schools also have origins in the Pavlovian tradition. Rewarding positive behaviours and punishing negative ones is a form of conditioning; do a behaviour, experience a negative consequence and, so it goes, you learn that it is better to engage in positive behaviours when the teacher is in the room than negative ones.

Rewarding young children with stickers or extra screen time for cleaning up their rooms, doing homework or not fighting with their siblings conditions them to engage in certain behaviours. In these instances, if we are consistent as parents, our children become more automatic in engaging in the behaviours we want because of repeated positive reinforcement. Praise also can have a similar outcome.  

Likewise, as an early career teacher, I remember experienced colleagues sharing pearls of wisdom such as “don’t smile until Term 2” or “show those students who is boss”. Fear was a teaching strategy with the belief that it conditioned students to show respect and do their work. 

However, like with George, fear or rewards get to surface changes in behaviour and might condition a long-term response, but they don’t get to what sits below the surface. With these strategies, the impetus for change is extrinsic: “I should be quiet in class because if I don’t, the teacher will get mad and I will get a detention”.  “I should do my homework because otherwise I’ll lose a lunchtime with my friends.” “I should not use unkind or discriminatory language because if I do, and someone hears me, I’ll get called into the Head of Year’s office.” 

One of the reference points I return to time and again to make a distinction between surface and deep learning and understanding, is the iceberg model used to represent culture (see below).  

Surface learning is what we see – it is often the visible elements of learning. Recently at the Personal Project Exhibition, we saw the products of eight months of learning. The visible learning were the artefacts that the students created. The products were awesome; there was no doubt.

However, as parents and older students spoke to me about the exhibition, they reflected on the conversations with students as much as the products themselves. They described the way students talked with passion about their learning, the creative process or the challenges they faced. They described the way students spoke about how they had grown through a process, had to work with experts and mentors in their field of interest, and maybe, just maybe, had discovered a future career or a passion that would sustain them throughout their lives.  

Deep learning occurs when students are caught in the space of flow – when the intrinsic drive to learn and change is strong. We learn best when we understand the purpose of what is being learnt; having a clear why is a starting point. When a student asks why I should learn maths, we should grab this moment to help them see that maths is everywhere in the world. It is in the symmetry of the leaf pattern and the snail’s shell; it is fundamental to designing a bridge that can carry the load of large trucks, and it will help us be independent and autonomous adults who can budget our finances and time.

Deep learning also happens when a student moves through a challenge and sees that they can do this and overcome obstacles and feel success. What success looks like for each child will be different but that “Aha” moment can lead to deep, enduring learning.  

Deep learning also happens when we facilitate thinking. It does not happen when we give students information as though they are empty vessels waiting to be filled. We talk about open-ended questions a lot in education. The power of the “tell me why you might think that” question or “what might be another way of approaching this mathematical problem” or “what might happen if we add this variable” is deeper than we imagine.  

Deep learning also happens when we don’t give students the answers, but we empower them to try and fail and try again. Putting ideas into practice, conducting experiments and trying out new ideas are crucial to student learning. I have shared the learning pit before (see below). There is nothing more profound for any of us than when we realise “I can figure this out!”. This doesn’t happen when someone gives us the answers or when we simply use a behaviourist model to get children to do what we want them to do. It happens when we give them autonomy and agency in their learning, and the opportunity to struggle. 

George is not a deep thinking labrador who is going to change the world. He is a gorgeous dog who has his family wrapped around his paw, and who he can train using any type of food. His learning is all surface. 

Our students and children are capable of deep and profound thinking from a young age. This is a fundamental concept underpinning all the IB programmes. It is why we have Year 6 students undertaking a culminating exhibition connected to a wicked, global problem. It is why we create time and space for Year 10 students to undertake a personal project where they learn more about themselves and cultivate skills for life. It is why in the IB Diploma, there is an extended essay that matches university-level work. It is why in the IB Career Related Programme, there is a reflective project where students connect their career related study to an ethical dilemma within the field.  

Sometimes, as we look at education debates in the media, we focus on the surface elements of learning; the visible markers of success such as HSC results, ATARs and the inquiry versus explicit instruction debate. All of this is important; however, even more important is whether we are creating the time and space in schools for deep and enduring learning to happen. We want our young people to be intrinsically motivated to keep learning and to keep changing.

Our world does not need a generation of “yes” people or workers who do what they are told when they are told to do so, or because the extrinsic consequence of not doing so is bad. Instead, we want to ensure our students know (in the fibre of their being) the value of life-long learning and of creating a better and more peaceful world for all.