During the first two of weeks of my political theory class, professor Clifford Orwin instituted a ban on laptops in the lecture hall and disabled Wi-Fi access on our laptops.
The professor argued that laptops put students in a “stenographic mode,” meaning they provide distractions such as email or Facebook that will discourage us from thinking critically. I don’t understand how scribbling notes down on paper gets us to focus on the material either.
Keep in mind that these laptops connect wirelessly to a network that U of T has spent millions of students’ tuition dollars to install. Thus, students have paid for a system that they now have limited access to. An increase in tuition fees is hard for students to swallow when they’re only taking notes with a pencil. But in this class we’re now being kept from resources that could improve our learning.
Any reasoned discussion of this issue has to begin with the understanding that students at U of T are adults and are responsible for their own academic performance, including whether they spend their class time in an appropriate manner.
Professor Orwin believes that students with access to the Internet during class pay less attention because they are surfing the net and talking on MSN. The problem is that even if this is true (and, let’s face it, it probably is true in many cases), enforcing a ban on laptops is still a detrimental policy for a variety of reasons. Firstly, it is a domineering rule. As a political science professor, Orwin should know that with freedom comes the opportunity to make the wrong choice, and draconian rules only serve to undermine a student’s freedom. We must be free to make our own choices, it’s the only way we’ll learn. Secondly, computers are a beneficial tool that allow students to record notes quickly, conduct prompt background research, and allow foreign and ESL students to access translation tools. Taking these benefits away because of a few bad apples unjustly punishes those students that use the technology appropriately.
If the issue is student engagement, then there’s a more complex problem at hand. U of T must decrease the size of its classes and eradicate the classroom environment that makes students little more than numbers. The notion that an introductory class such as PSY100 can have enrollment numbers in the thousands and still be of value is absurd. I suggest a revival and expansion of the college system — one of the unique features of U of T — whereby courses can be kept small and personal relationships between a student and instructor can develop.
Although I agree that students ignoring a lecture by chatting or updating their Facebook account is a concern, I’d argue that it also provides some healthy competition for professors. Too many of them read off their lecture notes and are barely capable of speech.
A week after the laptop ban was introduced, professor Orwin revised his decision. Now, instead of eliminating laptops, he just disabled the wireless access in the lecture hall.
I don’t understand my professor’s logic. Doesn’t he know that technologies such as iPods and BlackBerries allow individuals to access the Internet more discreetly? Unless he also banned cell phones, a policy that would be difficult to enforce in the Isabel Bader Theatre, then he’s simply singling out laptop users and leaving other equally distracted students free to do as they will.
Banning laptops or disabling wireless access will not solve professor Orwin’s concerns. The problems of student engagement at this university go much deeper.
