If you drive through a college campus during a change of classes, watch out, because many of the students won't be watching out for you. They'll be staring into their hands, cradling a device that informs much of their lives: the smartphone.
Instead of paying attention to the people with whom they are walking, or the drivers traveling on the same roads, these students are immersed -- in a text, a tweet, or even a good old-fashioned website.
Colleges know this and are concerned for their students' safety. Some, however, are even more afraid of what this behavior means for their own future. MOOCs -- "Massive Open Online Courses" -- are signing up users by the millions. Postsecondary institutions are right to be concerned. But if colleges focus on their unique capabilities, they probably need not panic.
Probably.
Before becoming an educational administrator, I was a director -- the kind that directs plays. In the theater, flesh-and-blood actors must not only memorize lines but move their bodies. They must touch not only each other but, done right, the hearts of their audiences.
It's hard to imagine how this happens with a MOOC.
That said, I can easily imagine a remarkable but remote dramatist providing a more meaningful analysis of Shakespeare or Saroyan than an in-class professor who simply repeats what students can find in their textbooks.
San Jose State University, where I once served as president, is piloting a "MOOC 2.0" model with Udacity, Inc. that seeks to blend the strengths of online and in-person instruction. If students want academic credit, access to professors, additional support services, proctored and authenticated online exams, and course mentors, the cost is $150 -- a substantial discount from regular tuition rates. If they prefer to work on their own and receive no credit -- i.e., the "MOOC 1.0" model -- the course is free.
Still, whether we're considering MOOCs 1.0, 2.0, or "pick-your-number-point-zero," I don't believe MOOCs will take over the world. Do I have my head buried in the sand, like the students with their phones cradled in their hands? I don't think so.
Where educators add value -- where they truly earn their money -- is in helping students make sense of information by providing insight, interpretation, and wisdom.
As a former university president and professor, I am also convinced some of the most valuable learning occurs outside of class -- in courtyards where both free verse and Frisbees fly, and in residence halls where small-town students from North Dakota (like me) learn to live with people from around the world.
As long as educators remember that students are flesh-and-blood individuals with unique needs and aspirations, they can animate the best elements of modern technology with the human-to-human connections that have sustained education for thousands of years.
But if schools simply trudge ahead, unaware and unconcerned (like students between classes) and get sideswiped by a passing vehicle, at least some of the fault will be their own.
Jon Whitmore is CEO of ACT, a global not-for-profit organization whose mission is "Helping people achieve education and workplace success."