Inquiry-Based Education

The New Culture of Learning, a book written by Professor John Seely Brown, in distinguishing between two types of knowledge, explicit and tacit knowledge, claims that we have strayed away from tacit knowledge, and now, more than ever, we need to return to it. First off, let’s define the two types of knowledge: Think of explicit knowledge as “know-what” and tacit knowledge as “know-how”. Knowing the rules of chess, for instance, is explicit knowledge, whereas knowing how to play the game at high level involves tacit knowledge. Notice that tacit and explicit knowledge are interdependent: you can’t play the game well without knowing the rules, and, by the same token, it doesn’t do much good if you know the rules but cannot play well.

Tacit knowledge is becoming increasingly important, Seely notes, due to the increasing amount of data that we’re forced to make sense of. We need to be able to synthesize it quicker, evaluate what’s important and what isn’t, and have the ability to develop relationships as our minds become more and more preoccupied. Schools, though, have missed the memo: They almost exclusively focus on transmitting explicit knowledge — facts, definitions, the stuff of memorization. Seely continues: “In a stable world, focusing on explicit knowledge perhaps made more sense, but in a more rapidly changing world, tacit knowledge becomes increasingly central to our ability to thrive.“

Schools need a return to tacit knowledge – the proverbial street smarts, the intangibles, the stuff of building relationships and cultivating wisdom. But, as Seely notes, “tacit knowledge cannot be taught – it can only be learned,…only if the environment is designed to do that.” This, perhaps, explains the reluctance to embrace tacit learning. How can you teach something that can only be learned?

Let’s ask a better question: How can we design an environment that fosters tacit learning?

For one, Seely mentions, you can shift the emphasis from finding the right answers, indeed, to asking the right questions. This paradigm places student at the center of learning. Inquiry-based education inherently relates the subject material to one’s interests; it accustoms the student to ambiguity; It makes him more creative, interesting, and, above all, it encourages and develops his curiosity. This is key: Writer Jim Collins credits his core competence as curiosity. Charlie Rose frequently interviews people who say that curiosity is the skill that separated them from the pack. David Brooks wrote a column titled the “Question-Driven Life”, which says that curiosity is not the means of a good life but is the good life itself -- that is,while some chase $ or fame, others – like him, for example – chase profound and burning questions.

What does this look like in schools? Well, from how I see things, there are three approaches: There’s the community model, where you relate whatever it is you’re doing to community develop projects. My friend runs the Brightmoor program, which connects students’ class work with community projects in Brightmoor, Detroit. A group of writing students, for instance, wrote a storyboard cookbook for the elderly. A group of aspiring music teachers, to provide another example, will instruct inner-city youth in basic music theory. One could imagine all sorts of creative and fun ways that students studying business, engineering, and the humanities, to name a few, could incorporate their skills into community-service projects.

There’s the entrepreneurship model, where you take whatever it is your learning and try to turn a profit from it. This could be producing a painting, novel, CD, film, service, product, depending on your interests and skill sets, and the trying to sell it. This builds, even if you never make a dime, practical and tangible skills and, in a very real sense, shows you what it’s like to make a buck.

And then there’s the self-designed model where, based on what you’re learning, you design a project of choice. What might this look like? In economics, for instance, you may perform research on the financial crisis and then design a media campaign to popularize Keynesian economics. Or for history, you may want to make a skit, a musical – I’d make a rap musical – simulating the Tudors, or Watergate, or the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. Or for sociology, you may want to make a video on why men and women can’t be friends, or why friends with benefits never works.

These examples are very consistent with what’s known as Problem-based learning, in which students learn material in the context of solving a larger question or dilemma. In history, for example, you pose the question: is war justified? And then analyze those wars with that question in mind. In Public Policy you ask: When is Government at its best, and in what fields does it fail? And analyze policy decisions from there.

Here’s why these methods work: First, students are actively engaged and actually care about what their work. Both student and teacher know there’s a purpose behind it and are thereby invested in it. Second, students learn readily applicable and transferable skills. Serving your community, earning a dollar, and choosing and following through on self-designed projects are not only valuable experiences in and of themselves, they also demonstrate and develop your creativity, your curiosity, and your initiative. Third, and perhaps most importantly, it’s fun. These are largely social activities, which enable relationships to flourish.