Technological change and higher education

In the educational field, new technologies are often presented as a magic solution: a panacea that supposedly would be able to solve all problems with hardly any cost or pain. From a more realistic position, we must not only ask ourselves what role these new technologies can play in the learning process, but, above all, we must assess whether the central problematic characteristics of our university education, far from being automatically resolved by applying new technologies, constitute the main obstacle to our being able to take advantage of the possibilities they offer. If we consider that the primary function of education, in general, and of the university, in particular, is to teach how to think, we run the risk of exaggerating the effect of new technologies as a potential cause of an absolutely radical change or as an important factor for the solution of problems. I suspect that, rather, they will have a considerable impact only in certain areas, focused on the mere acquisition of knowledge and technical skills. In this sense, it is no coincidence that online training is developing more in subjects related to computer programming or accounting. However, new technologies will have much less impact on the intellectual development of the student, understood in a broader sense, that includes learning to think and to select and acquire knowledge.

Furthermore, they will not have an appreciable impact on two other central functions of the university, such as producing informative "signals" for the labor market and fostering the development of students' social skills. On the one hand, the effectiveness of these signals requires rigorous evaluation, which distance and online education often struggle to develop. On the other hand, sociability requires the type of interaction that only in-person education can effectively provide. Personal presence and interaction may become even more necessary as, in the future, individuals tend to educate themselves more in solitude or through interactions that are increasingly mediated by technology. It is true, however, that new technologies favor a more "Socratic" education, where class time is dedicated to discussing cases and problems, rather than explaining a conceptual or theoretical framework. It is therefore to be expected that in the coming years we will see a radical evolution, "flipping the classroom," so that most of the time is dedicated to interaction and discussion, while lectures and even exams are largely relegated to the use of videos and online tests.

However, when estimating to what extent, with what probability, or in which universities this change will occur, we must consider the limited impact that video technology has had worldwide, as well as the fact that much of this "turnaround" was already possible, at least, since the invention of the printing press. Among us, the failure of the Bologna Plan in its timid attempt to turn classes around has also been notable. In the absence of a rigorous evaluation, it can be conjectured that in many areas its only consequence has been, in addition to making teaching more expensive, to fragment courses and reduce both class hours and, probably, the standards of demand. After several years of application, in countries like Spain or France, most university classes are still similar not only to those that existed before Bologna, but before Gutenberg. These facts should alert us to the existence of much more important barriers than merely technological ones. Above all, the different mentality of Latin teachers and students—or perhaps one could say of the "culturally Catholic"?—more eager to transmit and learn "the truth" than to discuss possible truths and learn to think, choose, and construct a truth for themselves. Surveys indicate that for a good number of Spanish university students, of all types of ideologies, the ideal professor resembles a catechist who transmits an unquestionable truth that the student merely learns. This student, who exhibits a notable aversion to risk, wishes that class time be dedicated to introducing the discipline, instead of discussing it; furthermore, they barely participate in class discussions, a participation that, by the way, they detest the professor valuing when grading the course; and who, finally, usually prepares for exams using class notes as the primary source.

Therefore, it should not surprise us that even those students with acceptable academic performance have serious difficulties processing written texts of a certain length. They also find it hard to form their own opinions, develop and defend arguments, or criticize those of others. Logically, they find it very difficult to participate in class and, in general, express their opinion. The reason is not a difficulty in expressing themselves but rather that on these topics they lack an opinion. This is clearly highlighted by the fact that these same students who are unable to express an opinion in class are very expressive and argue with great effectiveness when, for the most diverse reasons, they request special treatment compared to the rest of the class or, even more so, when they come to "review" their exam —that is, to renegotiate their grade with the professor—. They are, therefore, very good negotiators and exhibit great capacity to rationalize their behavior. They do not suffer, in my opinion, from an expressive deficit but from a formative one. Years of education in renegotiating rules with their parents have trained them to renegotiate everything in their favor. Years of cramming notes have not trained them to select and acquire information with a view to forming their own opinion about reality. They are good manipulators but bad analysts. In this sense, when assessing how the university performs its function, perhaps the most serious deficit arises when applying to real cases the theory that these students have passed in exams. When confronted with a real problem, they usually study and analyze it with the same instruments they would have used before entering university. So, to study it, they uncritically accumulate data from the press and, increasingly, from the internet; while, to analyze it, they usually do not use any more resource than their common sense.

This model is perhaps all the more harmful the less scientific the corresponding discipline is, and, as a consequence, the more necessary it would be to have an open and less dogmatic vision. I suspect this is the case for both economics and business administration and management. It is painful to observe good final-year students who, when confronting economic problems —for example, the scarcity or cost of a certain good or service— lack the necessary attitude and aptitude to begin to think about them from an economic perspective, asking themselves —for example— what the prices or opportunity costs are. And something similar happens when Business Administration students confront business and management cases. There is nothing more frustrating than seeing how, when addressing these real situations, many graduates with good grades are unable to use the analytical instruments they have demonstrated mastering in several dozens of exams, especially those with "boxable" answers.

All of this happens despite the fact that it seems clear that Socratic teaching methods are increasingly necessary, those in which the student studies the materials before classes and these are used above all to explore, apply, and discuss. This is because it makes the student not only work but work differently. If the method works, it should help them fill common deficits in their maturity, both technically and intellectually. Technically, it should make them more capable of processing large volumes of information to "acquire" with discernment that information which is most valuable, as well as of presenting their ideas in writing and in public. Intellectually, the method should encourage the student to be more capable of forming their own opinion, instead of learning probably outdated recipes, and, what is essential, to be in a better position to apply theoretical knowledge when facing real problems.

There is a much more general lesson here: technological change opens opportunities, but only those who have the conditions and make the adequate effort benefit from them. For example, online courses make it possible to radically change university teaching. Years ago, Harvard Business School outsourced the teaching of its —relatively mechanical— accounting courses online, while both Harvard University itself and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology invested a huge amount of resources to develop other online courses. Other universities, such as Spanish ones, are barely beginning to do so, and in little more than a testimonial way. Similarly, many of these courses are free and accessible. This availability allows students from all over the world who are willing to study to have direct access to the best professors for the first time and to prepare thoroughly.

For all these reasons, it is foreseeable that the comparative advantage that our young people still enjoy over those in the Third World will very soon disappear. The Spanish graduate who has studied the statistical methods used to manage, say, Big Data, will have to compete with students from all over the world who have studied it in the online jungle. In fact, it is already happening. It is worth noting an additional caveat about the common excuse that young people are prepared because they know how to use their mobile phones and computers. A few weeks ago, a prominent Spanish politician confessed that his children, still young, were "miles ahead of him in the use of new technologies." Grave error. It is a widespread confusion in our country to consider that young people are already adapted to information technologies because they are capable of masterfully using phones, tablets, and computers, as if they knew how to program or, at least, selectively search for information. In reality, many of them—perhaps the majority?—use them, in essence, to practice the old vice of gossip through social networks. When, in addition, they dedicate a substantial part of their time to this activity, it is, on the contrary, a case of "maladaptation" in the sense of evolutionary biology. Maladaptation because technology captures the will of these young people against their long-term interest and turns them into addicts. This addiction to constant stimulation and the permanent communication of useless information, whose consumption is pleasurable in the short term due to the presence of atavistic instincts poorly adapted to the current world, is starting to be a serious problem. The growing complaints from middle managers about the inability of young graduates to concentrate their efforts continuously confirm the importance of the matter. Therefore, the excuse is as common as it is unfounded.