Reality bites

Evidence-based practice is the darling of Learning & Development geeks.

And with good reason. Amongst all the myths and barrow pushing, not to mention the myriad ways to approach any given problem, empiricism injects a sorely needed dose of confidence into what we do.

Friends of my blog will already know that my undergraduate degree was in science, and although I graduated a thousand years ago, it forever equipped me with a lens through which I see the world. Suffice to say my search for statistical significance is serious.

But it is through this same lens that I also see the limitations of research. Hence I urge caution when using it to inform our decisions.

For instance, I recently called out the “captive audience” that characterises many of the experiments undertaken in the educational domain. Subjects who are compelled to participate in these activities may not behave in the same manner as when they are not; which could, for example, complicate your informal learning strategy.

Hence studies undertaken in the K12 or higher education sectors may not translate so well in the corporate sector, where the dynamics of the environment are different. But even when a study is set among more authentic or relevant conditions, the results are unlikely to be universally representative. By design it locks down the variables, making it challenging to compare apples to apples.

In short, all organisations are different. They have different budgets, systems, policies, processes, and most consequentially, cultures. So if a study or even a meta-analysis demonstrates the efficacy of the flipped classroom approach to workplace training, it mightn’t replicate at your company because no one does the pre-work.

Essentially it’s a question of probability. Subscribing to the research theoretically shifts the odds of success in your favour, but it’s not a sure thing. You never know where along the normal distribution you’re gonna be.

My argument thus far has assumed that quality research exists. Yet despite the plethora of journals and books and reports and articles, we’ve all struggled to find coverage of that one specific topic. Perhaps it’s behind a paywall, or the experimental design is flawed, or the study simply hasn’t been done.

So while we may agree in principle that evidence-based practice is imperative, the reality of business dictates that in fact much of that evidence is lacking. In its absence, we have no choice but to rely on logic, experience, and sometimes gut instinct; informed by observation, conversation, and innovation.

In your capacity as an L&D professional, you need to run your own experiments within the construct of your own organisation. By all means take your cues from the available research, but do so with a critical mindset, and fill in the gaps with action.

Find out what works in your world.

Pokémon whoa!

When I was a teenager I was addicted to video games. Not stay-awake-for-three-days-and-die-of-starvation kind of addicted, but I would spend every conceivable moment playing.

While I enjoyed car games and classic shoot’em ups, my favourites were the more strategic kinds of games in which you could explore, think, and discover. There was always somewhere else to reach, something fascinating to find, another stratagem to try.

I ended up imposing a ban on myself in order to focus on my studies, and I did not lift a video gaming finger for years afterwards.

Then along came Ingress.

Ingress is a mobile game developed by Niantic (an offshoot of Google). You choose to join one of two factions that are fighting for world supremacy by capturing virtual portals – which are represented by public landmarks in the real world such as statues and fountains.

Ingress is oft described as an augmented reality game, but I disagree. It’s an alternate reality game. And it’s addictive. There’s something about covering a swathe of land in deep green (or blue, if you’re one of them) which elicits that sweet dopamine of achievement.

The plot isn’t real, of course, but that doesn’t matter. The emotion is.

Eventually I had to give up Ingress because I could feel my dubious history with video games flooding back, and I was chewing through my data like a hot knife through butter.

It is in this light that I look on with amusement at Niantic’s latest offering: Pokémon Go.

I was vaguely aware of this game since I maintain a general interest in augmented reality. Then one day it exploded. Suddenly everyone was playing it!

I hadn’t planned to play Pokémon Go myself, but given its sheer popularity I felt it would be remiss of me as an e-learning professional to forgo an informed opinion. So I gave it a go.

Frankly, it isn’t my cup of tea. Indeed I find the game a bit childish and pointless. When you catch one Pokémon, you catch another, and then another… ad infinitum. So what?

Still, I can see why others enjoy it. All the key game mechanics are there: it’s intuitive to play; your first Pokémon is easy to catch; you level up quickly; and the Pokédex is an interesting element that taps into the collector’s mentality.

You can also earn ownership of a gym (reminiscent of becoming a mayor in Foursquare) and you can incubate and hatch eggs (reminiscent of the parenting responsibilities for Tamagotchi).

Predictably, Pokémon Go has provoked a torrent of criticism from non-players, and I say some of it is warranted. From public nuisances to privacy concerns, the game has also fuelled discourtesy, disrespect, and self harm.

Personally I don’t think that you are stupid just because you play Pokémon Go. However, I do think the game is a vehicle for stupid people to express their stupidity.

I also think the decision to assign churches as gyms was ill advised, though I realise there is a technical reason for this and thankfully some churches are using their lemons to make lemonade.

On the plus side, Pokémon Go gets people walking – that’s unusual for a video game, even a mobile one – and it has single-handedly introduced millions of people around the world to the concept of AR.

And if we needed it, it’s yet another reminder to L&D folks that people love games.