U. of California Readies Its For-Credit Online-Course Venture

Earlier this year, I took an online, for-credit math class through the University of California at Berkeley Extension School. I would like to share my experience here, as I think it offers some lessons for UC administrators considering an expansion of online education across the system.

The math class has been in existence since at least early 2006, and during that time has apparently been taught by the same instructor. Even though it was for undergraduate credit, a large number of students were incoming graduate students to other schools who had been asked to take it to beef up their math skills and concepts before starting. On the class bulletin board, I noticed that there were other students from UPenn/Wharton, the University of Chicago, and NYU.

So, how was the class?

The curriculum was standard. It started with a basic algebra review, went on to quadratic equations and graphing, spent a few chapters on functions, and ended with three or four chapters on trigonometry. There was one chapter on logarithms, too.

The convenience was great. We could go at our own pace, and start at any time during the year. Beginning in April, after putting my kids to bed, I would go downstairs to the living room to spend about 2-3 hours on readings and homework, and about every week, the chapter tests. I never had to deal with driving. Homework and tests were completed online. I was able to make very steady progress, with the aim of completing the course by the time my full-time MBA program started in early June. Working nearly every evening and on the weekends, I was able to finish the required chapters in about two months and take the proctored final exam in downtown Boston the day after Memorial Day, just a few days before heading off to my MBA program.

I took the class seriously, and did very well in the homework, tests, and final. Most importantly, I feel that I learned a great deal and came to business school well-prepared. For instance, the value of taking college-level math in the spring was very apparent in the summer in my on-campus microeconomics class, which had a substantial math component. The online math preparation allowed me to focus my attention on economics theory, instead of getting hung up on the calculations in the problem sets.

But there were drawbacks, too. For years, I’ve heard criticisms from other students, faculty, and even supporters of Web-based distance education, relating to a lack of interaction between students and faculty. I can verify that this was indeed the case in the online class that I took. Here’s what observed:

* There was no shared sense of community, or any efforts by UC Berkeley Extension to create one, beyond setting up an online message board. Many of the students used the board to introduce themselves at the start of class, but by chapter 1 or 2 in the book practically all shared dialogues had stopped using the official message board.

* What few questions that were placed on the message board — either relating to the course content, tests or the online software — were never answered by the instructor. One sad example: “Can you please provide more information on the final? Will it be similar to the Practice Final? How many questions will there be? Please let me know when you have a chance.” I am sure others had the same question, too, but it was never answered on the board — although the teacher did answer this particular question in a private email, when I asked her.

* Because old comments from previous students were never removed from the board, it gave the appearance of an abandoned ghost town — the MySpace of math.

* The only comments that I saw from the teacher were the first comment at the top of each thread (“please feel free to email me, etc.”) which dated from March 2006. Three times, she responded to students who introduced themselves, but by mid-2007 even these responses had stopped. There was no shared response by the instructor to any question about tests, math problems, or software issues. It is uncertain if the students who asked them gave up, or attempted to contact her by email afterward.

* The lack of an easy mechanism to ask complex questions was very frustrating. For instance, the trigonometry chapter covered difficult concepts and methods relating to trigonometric functions and equations. In a classroom setting, the instructor would be using the board to work out equations and would be referring to the unit circle while students asked questions. In an online setting, I could use the textbook, online exercises, and pen and paper, but I still had a ton of “why” questions that could not be easily described or diagrammed via email.

* On the other hand, the teacher was very responsive to those questions that were asked by email. I sent more than 10 specific queries over the course of the semester, most relating to grading errors with the MyMathLab software we used to complete assignments and take tests, or questions relating to the final. She responded to every one within 12 hours. This was impressive, considering many university professors I’ve had contact with in classroom settings sometimes takes days or even more than a week to respond to email from students.

* Even though she was responsive with email, I did not observe any spontaneous communication from the instructor in the way of asking about problems, or even “keep up the good work” encouragement.

* The $170 precalc textbook contained two extra books which were never needed for the class, as well as a login key for the MyMathLab section. Interestingly, the book was reproduced entirely online, reducing the need for even buying a physical text.

* The instructor prepared “lectures”, which were actually explanatory essays with diagrams. The quality of these documents was generally quite good — I’d say they were much clearer than the Sullivan precalc textbook I used.

* However, the text “lectures” did not encourage a shared dialogue, and seldom/never change from year to year. I found this out when a link in one of them directed me to an external website, which generated the following error: “Web Hosting from beeb.net closed on 30th June 2008.” In other words, the link had been added at least two years before and was never revised.

* MyMathLab contained video clips of various concepts and exercises produced by Pearson employees, but there was no classroom video of the instructor. I watched one of the MyMathLab videos, but found they were much less engaging than the free videos produced by Khan Academy.

* Grading was easy. As long as you studied, understood the concepts and questions likely to appear on the homework and exams (which were driven entirely by textbook content), it was nearly impossible to do poorly. For the online homework on MyMathLab, the system allowed unlimited attempts on each question and even gave step-by-step instructions on how to solve tricky problems. This does not mirror the homework or testing scenarios typically found in physical classrooms, in which you get one chance to get it right, and in the case of tests, cannot have open browser windows or the ability to communicate with other people at the same time.

* The tests followed the textbook lessons very closely, and you were allowed to take practice tests as many times as you liked. The questions that appeared on the practice and real tests were practically identical. Rarely was there a “trick” question.

* Only the final was proctored (I did it at the New England College of Finance in downtown Boston). There was no monitoring on any other graded content. This, combined with an almost complete lack of student/teacher interaction, makes it very easy to cheat on homework and chapter tests.

* Because the homework and tests corresponded to the textbook lessons, it was more efficient for me time-wise to take notes and practice problems from the textbook and do the homework and tests without even reviewing the redundant (but better-written) “lectures”.

* The textbook had a fair number of word problems, but these almost never appeared on the homework or tests. I wish they had — the practical applications of mathematics is where a lot of people struggle, but is the best way of illustrating abstract concepts.

In summary, taking this online math class basically boiled down to being taught by a textbook, and getting university credit for it, from one of the top-ranked public universities in the United States. I use textbooks in my real-world classes too, but the big difference is the classroom sessions include a huge amount of discussion and focused questions on difficult topics, examples, and other areas worth exploring as part of a shared dialogue. In the online math class, there was almost no meaningful student/teacher or student/student interaction. To equate this type of online learning with a real-world classroom experience is a major stretch.

Further, struggling students tend to suffer in an environment when teachers aren’t there to help, or even notice there’s a problem. I wonder how many dropped out of my class, after attempting to make contact on the online message board, or getting hung up on the software? In the absence of any monitoring system for the exams and homework, how many have turned to cheating?

On the other hand, the convenience of taking a class at home was addictive. It was very easy to incorporate these classes into my home life, without dealing with wasting time or money on commuting to class. And, most importantly, I learned what I set out to learn.

Would I take an online class again? Maybe, if the topic lends itself to rote memorization and hands-on problem solving that does not require interaction with other students or faculty.

But for most college- or university-level subjects, online education is a poor substitute. In my opinion, the most effective learning takes place in the classroom, where you can easily raise your hand, engage in spontaneous discussions with classmates and faculty, turn to the person next to you to ask for clarification, or approach the professor after class or during office hours to ask questions or exchange viewpoints in a way that practically guarantees an instant response and is not constrained by typing, software interfaces, or waiting for a response.

To give you an example, in my on-campus microeconomics class, I suspect that about 3/4 of us were partially or fully baffled during our professor’s first explanation of concepts like two-part tariffs and double-marginalization in certain transfer pricing scenarios. The only way we were able to “get it” were by some students raising their hands and asking the professor to explain a particular element, other students sharing their own experiences from their careers (with responses from other students or the professor), and the problem sets being explained in person by the TA, with more questions from us. Not everyone raised their hands or participated in the debates, but everyone in that classroom heard them, and learned something from them. I doubt 10% of this interaction would have been possible online, even using technologies that allow instant feedback from remote students — it’s too easy for people to multitask, read email, or browse the Web while attending class, and unless sophisticated two-way video systems are involved (such as telepresence), it will be difficult for faculty to get important visual feedback cues from the students they are teaching.

A decade from now, there may be better technologies that truly bring the shared classroom experience to people’s homes, but the asynchronous, Web-based technologies that seem to dominate the online education sector don’t come close to the real thing.

Ian Lamont (ilamont.blogspot.com)

Congratulations to the UC system – it has just moved into the mid-90′s with this action. Once they figure out how to actually teach well online (let’s say in 5 years, about 2015), they’ll have moved their technology timeline to about 2005.

In a mere 10 to 15 years, they should have reached 2010 in their online teaching practices! Of course, those of us that already have 15-25 online degree programs will have moved the puck farther down the ice by then.

I would like the UC to use this opportunity to make some real creative advances in on-line courses. Webinars are doing a good job of creating virtual classroom environments using hand raising, etc. On-line games use avatars to create communities – why not use them in on-line classrooms? The Carnegie Melon Open Courses Initiative offers curricular solutions that should also be included in the UC’s develop research. Don’t waste time recreating a bumpy wheel.

Just went to Harvard Extension and looked through a bunch of courses they offer online (you get to watch the first video and check out the syllabus/website of each).
I’ve changed two views: 1) I now think online courses, if based on campus lectures, can provide a decent education and 2) I was wrong to think online courses will make a dent in the professorial labor market. I thought online courses were somehow going to get rid of professors. That doesn’t seem possible with what I saw.
Basically, they tape campus lectures, throw them online, then add some links and textual materials. If you don’t need discussion, or if they incorporate video skype capabilities, you’ll be fine. But, for each of these elements, you need a live professor to produce content. As with campus instruction, if you have an uncharismatic professor, you’ll learn less or have to work harder for the same goal.
The other online course I had taken had no videos. It was just assignments, links, and books. I learned much less than usual. With videos and some way of talking – with your voice – to a professor, I think it could become comparable for those who can’t come to a campus most of the time.
So, my new war is to get professors/universities to stop offering content for free. Luckily, I don’t think this will happen with much frequency. My fear with the UC is that professors are giving away content to the system, which can then recycle their lectures ad infinitum, hiring on a cadre of cheap lecturers or grad students to act as graders/FAQ answerers.
Maybe you’ll start seeing universities like Harvard sell off their old content (like an English course from three years ago) to other campuses, who then just hire someone to complement the content. Like an academic junkyard car. Not as a fancy, but it gets the job done. Fascinating.