Part 4 of a series on motivation

Motivation to learn is sometime hidden through creative avoidance strategies. But the absence of motivation often bubbles to the surface when we ask people to tackle their learning in a different way. In previous postings I proposed three separate factors that affect motivation:

1. The learner – with all the attributes, quirks and oddities, both physical and mental, that make him or her individual and special
2. The learning – by which I refer to the subject matter and the methods, strategies and style by which content is presented to the learner
3. The environment around the learner – that is to say the people, places and cultural influences that build or depress an individual’s motivation to succeed.

My 3 L’s

I devised a simple way of internalising this by thinking of them as the Three Ls – Learner, Learning and Logistics.

I am going to take these in reverse order, because we all need a reminder from time to time of the potential for thoughtless, insensitive or manipulative messages to inhibit learning.

Careless talk

During World War Two, memorable slogans warned of the consequences that “Careless talk costs lives”, and “Loose lips sink ships”. In the context of learning, “loose lips” might be risking not life, but livelihood. Here is a prime example of what I mean. A 16 year old girl leaves the pastoral climate of school in pursuit of greater autonomy as a young adult and an independent learner. She enrols for A Level GCSE at a college of Further Education. One of her chosen subjects is Psychology. Her lecturer addresses the class on day one. He advises them to give up part-time jobs or other distractions because, “This course is tough and I can predict now that most of you will fail”. By the end of the first term, 30% of the class have abandoned the course. (Be assured this really did happen, and very close to home.) Let’s contrast this clumsy blunder with a more enlightened approach, far more likely to result in positive reinforcement.

The greatest teachers I’ve ever seen

Probably my two greatest inspirations are Ben Zander and the wonderful Dorothy Heathcote. What they have in common is an approach that starts form the premise “you can do this” rather than “let me stand by until you fail”. Heathcote was a teacher who raised the aspirations and therefore the accomplishments of generations of Northumbrian children above and beyond the shadow of the coal mine that was their legacy and their destiny. Zander is a brilliant orchestral conductor and teacher. On the first day of a new class, he announces, “Everybody gets an A. There’s one condition; students must submit a letter, written that day but dated the end of term. And it must begin: ‘Dear Mr Zander, I got my A because …” We award ‘grades’ almost every time we interact with people. It happens through the amount of respect we pay, how actively we listen, how we deliver feedback and how much attention we pay to what that person brings to the encounter. In a concert, the conductor makes no sound, but depends on the ability to make other people powerful. Learning can feel like a hazardous pursuit, especially to the newcomer or to the participant who has previously met only failure and feelings of inadequacy. Says Ben Zander, “In any performance, there are always two people on stage: the one trying to play, and another one who whispers, ‘Do you know how many people play this piece better than you do? Here comes that difficult passage that you missed last time, and you’re going to miss it again this time!’ Sometimes that other voice is so loud that it drowns out the music. I’m always looking for ways to silence that voice.” The same voice whispers to learners whenever they attempt a new skill. As we shall discuss, that voice may be spoken or, as in the case of packaged learning for page or screen, it may be embedded on the words and imagery that the user sees.

Contrast this with the disturbing and deeply demotivating effects of “Well done” and “Oops” feedback that is so typical of some forms of packaged learning.

Here we’ve looked at intrinsic motivation – a desire which comes from within the person. In part 5, we’ll look at extrinsic motivation, an imperative that comes from the people and world outside .

Part 3 of a short series on motivation.

Basic needs

People respond to learning and courses because they or someone else are driven by a script that is guiding their behaviour and shaping their accomplishments. This fits with what we know of basic human needs.

1. Physical needs keep us alive and well.
2. Social needs enable us to live in a group with our fellow men and women.
3. Self-fulfilment needs feed our self-esteem.

Most readers will be familiar with the work of Abraham Maslow, who showed these as a pyramid. Survival comes before everything: we must eat, drink, sleep and reproduce. Only then do we attempt to secure our existence. Where our ancestors made homes in caves and treetops, we now seek refuge in money, taking out a mortgage, saving for a rainy day, buying life assurance, pensions and investments. Then we fulfil our social needs, making friends, joining clubs or political parties. We reaffirm our belonging to society and we form or join groups. Most people, when they reach this point on the pyramid, are content to earn enough to afford the standard of living they feel they deserve. People who were deprived of love as children may compensate by dwelling on step four, the needs of the outer self. Perceived status and recognition takes on huge importance. Drive a flashy car, buy a bigger house, send your children to private school, occupy a large office with a personal secretary. Very few of us rise to the higher regions of Maslow’s pyramid to reach self-actualisation, the fulfilment of our inner self. It may appear hackneyed in the modern age, but Maslow’s conclusions are of particular importance to training professionals. If we are hungry, we may wander from the text of the novel we are reading and first deal with what’s in the fridge! Of course we can read, eat and socialise all at once, but the point is that a basic need cannot be denied, and will become more and more insistent until it blocks out all higher considerations. If we are declared bankrupt or imprisoned for theft, we fall back a step or two. We abandon self-fulfilment or even social need, and we must ascend steps 1 and 2 again before we can approach the ‘higher’ needs. There are exceptions, of course. The poet in a garret may go hungry and dirty as long as he has the strength to go on creating. He does not care what people may say, but resides exclusively on Maslow’s fifth level. If you see your role as a motivator and you hope to influence others to change their current behaviour, you cannot succeed without some knowledge of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Personality, learning preferences and motivation “I want to work with animals so I’ll need a good grade in biology.” “I want to learn as much as I can about the stresses in metals so I can service my own motorbike”.

A great number of words have been written about Learning Styles and preferences (Kolb; Honey and Mumford), personality profiles (MBTI and Keirsey) and perceptual modality. We could debate loud and long the vailidity and authority of these theories, but for the purpose of this blog, they may provide so common language through which to describe various motivational “drivers”.

O’Houle gives us three characteristics:

1. Goal-oriented learners who use education to meet clear objectives
2. Activity-oriented learners who take part mainly because they can use a learning context to make social contact with others.
3. Learning-oriented learners who seek knowledge for its own sake.  They are often habitual readers and they typically select professions on the basis of how much potential for growth they offer.

Allen Tough takes up the themes and concludes that adults learn because:

• learning makes them you good about yourself
• learning satisfies some other person whose opinions you respect (or dread!)
• learning provides some other form of gratification

Tough’s research found by far the biggest proportion of learning undertaken by adults to be informal and not necessarily planned.

Distilling the affective entry characteristics classified by Tough and O’Houle, I visualise three broad stereotypes:

Type 1

I want to do some learning so I can be more successful in my business

Type 2

I want to do some learning so I can make contact with other human beings

Type 3

I want to do some learning so I can stop my brain from rusting up

This then suggests three distinct preoccupations for the learners, each in turn:

Type 1

I want to do some learning so I can be more successful in my business Preoccupied with Learning how to…

Type 2

I want to do some learning so I can make contact with other human beings Preoccupied with Learning by…

Type 3

I want to do some learning so I can stop my brain from rusting up Preoccupied with Learning about…

Understanding what turns learners on can only help us to match (learning) product to need.  If by nature you are an activist, you might not jump for joy at the prospect of self-study unless the material required high levels of interaction.  You might crave contact with other learners or tutors. So design is hugely influential, from the level of planning learning strategies to the level of interface, choice of fonts and colour schemes.

Since learning is also affected by prior knowledge and attitudes toward ourselves and to learning, it is crucial to gather some basic information during initial analysis:

1. What does the learner bring to learning – what educational history; what “cognitive entry behaviours” have already been developed?
2. What makes them desire to learn – “affective entry characteristics”?
3. How good a match for is our proposed method and medium for the perceptual style and preferences of the target audience?

And that is where we’ll resume next time.

Part 2 of a short series on motivation.

In part 1, I described my pressure cooker problem. Although it led to my behaving as a just-in-case learner, I was, at the same time fascinated and motivated to browse into the cultural connections of chicken soup, and after a whole host of interesting associative links, I ended up at the Ellis Island passenger arrivals website in the remote hope that I might locate some long lost relatives who emigrated to the USA many years ago.

So what is the point?

Learning comes in many shapes and sizes and is provoked by a vast diversity of internal and external stimuli. Desire, nostalgia, danger, pragmatism, hunger, frustration, romance, criticism – you can find all of these motives and more behind my project to make chicken soup. You can also detect strong links between the match and fitness of the content and how it is presented i.e. the materials, and the motivation of the user to engage with the learning.

Intrinsic Motivation

Recently the UK Government enquired into the happiness of the nation. The last time it did so, a public opinion poll asserted, “Learning brings more happiness than having sex, playing or watching sport or doing the National Lottery.” (Finding Happiness, Gallup/North Yorkshire TEC, 1997.)  I still find this surprising. I redid a simple test  - entering each of the 6 words into a “Google” search: Shopping, Music, Holiday, Sex, Learning and Education. Music comes top, with 9 billion pages in which it is referenced. Shopping yields 4.6 billion pages, sex 3.5 billion and holiday 1.6 billion, . By contrast Learning appears on 1.3 bn”. By the way you may be interested to know that an impressive 15 million pages mention chicken soup. So on the basis of supply and demand, learning seems to be a topic that interests people. And yet there is the paradox that managers tell us they furnish their organisations with masses of excellent learning material that is barely or poorly used. In fact the problem is so acute that a sarcastic joke abounds. It goes like this. Suppose you have a very precious gemstone and you need to keep it secure. Where might you put it? Under the mattress at the foot of your bed? Too obvious – the very first place a burglar would look. What about in the vault of a bank? Well even banks can be robbed. So here is the solution – take it to the Open Access Learning Centre at work and place it carefully inside the slip case of any self-study manual. You can be quite confident it will stay there unmolested until the next time you decide to visit. Flippant, I know, but the underlying issue is serious. Organisations spend vast amounts on flexible learning packages that sit largely unused on library shelves or servers. Why should this be? It is tempting to take an over-simplistic view and blame the design of the package – “This eLearning is just not funny/interactive/serious/short/detailed/didactic/experiential enough. At the heart of the matter is the truth that motivation to learn lies not only within the material, but also within a whole range of factors that will build or depress an individual’s drive. Some of those factors arise within the learner (intrinsic) and some around them (extrinsic). In this and subsequent postings I’ll ask you to consider these factors and I’ll propose strategies for dealing with them.

You cannot motivate other people.

The principle to keep in mind is that you cannot motivate other people. The most you can do is create conditions and consequences that cause others to motivate themselves. Any parent, who has ever attempted to persuade a teenager to tidy a room, knows that this is true. Any parent who has ever attempted to limit a teenager’s time playing with a computer game knows this too. In some cases, the compulsion is with what you might term a “replacement” or “avoidance” activity. It is an excuse for not doing something that is more meaningful but less attractive. In other cases it is the pull of conformity and affiliation to the group that keeps the individual engaged in the task. Sometimes perversity works in your favour. A well used ruse is to give conspicuous approval to the behaviour or object of your distaste. “That tattoo looks so colourful on Sam. Have you thought of having your navel pierced, Amanda, Darling?” It is conventional for children to pull a face at the mere mention of the word school. And yet they attend, they pass examinations, they join extra-curricular clubs and societies, they wear the uniform. Some of the motivation to do so is extrinsic. When you are small you are physically delivered to the building and handed over to be registered and supervised throughout the day. However we know that the proverbial horse, taken to water, will not be forced to drink. At school there are sanctions for non-conformance. There is (or so one would hope) a strong culture of positive reinforcement – rewards and recognition for achievement and effort.

People respond to learning and courses because they or someone else are driven by a script that is guiding their behaviour and shaping their accomplishments. This fits with what we know of basic human needs, and that’s where we’ll pick up in part 3.

Part 1 of a short series on motivation.

I have been prompted by a discussion on Clive’s Blog to revisit some articles I wrote on motivation a little over 5 years ago. I was not surprised to find that much of the content is still valid, and so I’m refreshing it and will publish it in parts here.

Here’s part 1.

Not long ago, I bought a chicken. Now before your imagination runs away with you, let me explain that this was not a quest for companionship. The chicken was trussed and dressed (why do they refer to it as dressed when patently it is as naked as ever a chicken could be, minus feathers and all?). Anyhow this chicken was on sale in my local supermarket and, irresistibly, it had been reduced to half price for a quick sale. “Soup”, I thought. Now you may be wondering where this tale is leading. After all, the title is about motivation and learning. What’s that got to do with these musings about chicken and soup? Have faith, there is a point; all will be revealed. Both chicken soup and motivation are inextricably bound in the legacy of my upbringing. By way of explanation let me tell you I was born to a Jewish mother. I might mention, at the risk of self-stereotyping, that a propensity for bargain-buying is in my roots, too. Someone once said, “nostalgia ain’t what it used to be”. It was more than nostalgia that created in me a sense of comfort and nurturing; I can taste it and smell it even as I write – the recollection of Mother’s chicken soup invokes sensations as tangible as if the soup were before me steaming in the old chipped earthenware bowl. But – how to make it? My mother’s recipe was based upon her own mother’s recipe, and that was expressed in terms of a little bit of this and a little bit of that and bung it all in the pot. (This has lost a little in the translation from its original Yiddish, but you probably get the idea.) I assembled my ingredients – onions, carrots, celery, chicken, stock and seasoning. A little scalding, rinsing, wiping and slicing and in to the big pressure pan. I did everything in the normal way, but the pressure cooker did not do its usual job.  Steam was escaping from the top of the lid and I could not fathom the reason why. I went to the bookshelf where we keep the cookery books – no help there.  Then I ransacked the drawer where we store user manuals – for blender, food processor, pasta, yoghurt, ice cream and bread making machines – but, alas, nothing for the Pressure Cooker.  Meanwhile, various members of the family were popping in and out of the kitchen – my daughters with, “Oh good, soup, when can we eat?”, and my wife with, “Oh God, steam; why don’t you DO SOMETHING?” Frustrated in the extreme, I logged on to my computer and browsed to the manufacturer’s website.  At first I was hindered by my own lack of knowledge – Prestige is now part of the Meyer Group and at the time I was searching for Ps instead of Ms.

What was especially confusing was the presence of other sites with the Prestige name who had information on pressure cookers, but they were not the brand I owned.  Eventually I found the correct site and some information about pressure cookers – what are they made of; are they safe; what is the basic principle of pressure cooking.  But I did not discover the basic instructions for use I needed.  A diagnostic tool would have been very helpful; one which asked, “Can you see steam escaping from the valve?”  “If so check this.” So I felt disappointed and I began to examine the reasons for my disappointment.  There was a mismatch between what I had expected, no demanded, to find and what was actually there. The P site gave me the option to send an email to obtain an answer to my question, but my kitchen was like a Turkish Bath NOW.  And that is how things are.  We have come to require instant and accessible information at the time and place we need it.  It is inconceivable to imagine me, or anyone for that matter, going on a Basics of Pressure Cooking course before we use our pans.

It does not fit my personal style to study the manual cover to cover before I begin to make soup. In this instance I am a just-in-time, not a just in case learner. In the event, I was fortunate to find the leaflet for my pressure cooker. A diagram on page two clearly showed that some kitchen gremlin had inserted the valve upside down, and once corrected, the cooker behaved impeccably and my soup and sanity were secured.

In part 2, I’ll discuss learning on demand.