Curiosity and Online Education

Reading: How Humans Learn by Joshua R. Eyler (WVU Press, 2018)

Curiosity is an essential feature of how we learn.  Not only does it take us to new places (what Eyler refers to as 'novelty'), but it also is inherent in how things stay fresh for us - allowing us to concentrate for years and years on the same questions in our various disciplines.  While this first chapter in the book concentrates on engendering curiosity in our students, it is worth pushing farther: how do we sustain curiosity in our students and in ourselves?

If we only concentrate on curiosity as 'novelty,' we may end up chasing whatever cognitive breeze blows to the detriment of long-term learning.  There is, maybe, such a thing as 'shallow curiosity'.  Earlier today my son wanted to start learning about how batteries work and how they might be utilized for city-wide energy solutions (not bad for a 9 year old) - this piqued my curiosity, so I led him to the Answers with Joe and ElectroBOOM YouTube channels.  Partly this was because I've not ever really understood electricity (the section in high school physics that I received the lowest grade in) and partly because this was his question and not mine.  I can't sustain my own curiosity in this, as it doesn't 'belong' to me.  I'm happy to encourage him and lead him to some resources on the topic, but it isn't my topic.  I'll learn a few things along the way as I watch and ask questions with him, but as soon as he is able to take ownership over his learning (or he loses interest) I'll bow out.

Note that 'shallow curiosity' isn't a negative thing.  In some ways, it reminds me of theories about 'working memory' in contrast with 'long-term memory': both are essential parts of how we work with and manipulate stimulation and information.  In some ways, 'working memory' functions as a filter: the things that we determine are truly important* get slotted into long-term or permanent categories for later retrieval; the things deemed inessential* go by the wayside to allow for more stimulus intake.  With that in mind, let's get rid of the possibly pejorative 'shallow' and call it 'working curiosity.'

'Working curiosity,' in this reading, could be understood in the same filtering way: it allows us to concentrate for a short amount of time on something of immediate importance, but then we come up to the crux - will this become a sustained, 'long-term curiosity' or will it fall by the wayside?  In other words, how do we choose (whether consciously, subconsciously, or unconsciously) what becomes lasting?  While I'm definitely not a cognitive scientist, I imagine that the concept of relevance might become...relevant...here.  If something is relevant to other, preexisting parts of my cognitive (or social or religious or whatever) experience, then I'm more likely to stay engaged with it over a longer span of time.  The key, if my admittedly naive reading of things is accurate, is not that the Thing is curiosity generating in itself, but rather that I've become aware of the intersection possibilities with my existence.

This would also mean that, as my existence changes (developments in what I know about a subject, in my own health, or in my community, etc.) my curiosity may shift.  Unlike 'working' and 'long-term' memories, however, what was once a sustained curiosity doesn't necessarily always persist.  I was once very interested in a certain way of reading the Bible's eschatological (end-times*) material: that curiosity lasted closed to a decade and a half.  Now, however, I have almost no curiosity about the subject; not because my questions were answered, or the topic is any less important or something like that, but rather because I've changed.  Where I'm at with my faith doesn't have a whole lot to do with the Book of Revelation, so since it is no longer relevant, it no longer is a 'long-term curiosity.'  Maybe that will change in the future (I mean, back then I couldn't imagine not being near obsessed with it).

All this to say, curiosity seems not only to be a very human thing (as Eyler notes a few times), but it may be governed by other parts of our humanity as well.

What is probably worth noting, then, is that curiosity and relevance don't necessarily map on to grand-scale importance.  At one point, I was deeply curious about calculus, but haven't used (or really thought about) it in years.  I don't think it would be a good idea, though, for me to pontificate about how "useless" math is after schooling is finished: just because it is not currently relevant to me, and I don't currently have any curiosity for it, doesn't mean it isn't vitally important to how the world works or that it isn't important for whatever the future holds for me.  Too often we tend to make global statements about education when, in reality, self-awareness would be much more helpful.

*Whoo boy, that's some spicy oversimplification.