Another week, another book read. This time it was The Seventh Sense by Joshua Cooper Ramo.
The premise of the book is that we are at the edge of a new revolution,
governed by understanding networks and navigating complex systems, and that we
need to develop a seventh sense to survive or thrive. I found the first half of
the book gimmicky-sounding, like one of those self-help books that promises you
the secret in life to get ahead. This led to skimming over certain paths.
Things get more interesting in the second half when the author gets into
detailed examples of technology. I learned a lot about internet protocols,
computer viruses, and the “disappearing problem” in artificial intelligence
(AI) research.
There are many vignettes in the book, but the one I want to
discuss today is by Jon Postel with regard to transmission control protocol
(TCP): “Be conservative in what you do (or send), be liberal in what you
accept.” Since I’ve been reading and thinking about robustness and its connection
with higher education, I’m going to try and push this Postel’s rule a little
further and see how it might work.
If you read higher education news regularly, there has been
a fair bit of chatter about how to break the “iron triangle” of higher education:
Access, Cost, Quality. The dilemma is that you can choose to do two well at the
cost of the third. (Cooper Ramo has a similar triangle for networks – you can
read his book if you’re interested to find out more.) Do you want wide access
at low cost? Quality will suffer. How about high quality and wide access? That
will cost more than a fortune. Could you retain high quality at lower cost?
Possibly, but this will only be available to a small segment – and who will
choose the beneficiaries?
The U.S. system of education is modular in three ways: (1)
there are a large range of institutional types that cater to different segments
of the population, (2) courses are arranged in modular units allowing for some
mix-and-match catering to different goals/students within an institution, (3)
the modularity allows for mid-stream changes both intra- and inter-institution.
(There are some very specialized institutions attached to specific career goals
but we won’t consider these for now.) At many colleges and universities, you do
not have to declare a major for admission. This creates some messiness for
administrative planning; you might say it is less efficient. However, the
advantage is flexibility – robustness perhaps.
Since chemistry is what I am most familiar with, I will use
that as an example. Note that the chemistry curriculum tends to be more
hierarchical compared to many other areas so there will be significant
differences, but the general principles may still apply. General Chemistry, the
first-year college sequence (in two semesters or three quarters) has the same
core content. Textbooks have likely played an important role in the
“standardization” of this curriculum. Different departments and instructors
will have different emphases. They may have different lab experiments, but the
core goals are similar across programs. This means that it is relatively easy
to transfer credit across institutions. Our department is liberal in what it
accepts coming in, while the program we deliver in General Chemistry is conservative
and does not change much from year-to-year. Something similar takes place in
Organic Chemistry in the second year, and Physical Chemistry in the third or
fourth year.
There are elective classes that may vary a fair bit from one
institution to another depending on whether they are offered as a one-semester
or two-semester sequence (ditto for quarters): analytical chemistry, inorganic
chemistry, biochemistry, advanced organic chemistry, interdisciplinary courses
(bioorganic, organometallic, biophysical, physical-organic) and more
specialized topics (instrumental analysis, computational chemistry,
electrochemistry, materials, polymers, etc.) Different institutions may have
different program requirements, but we will accept transfer credit that count
towards the major, i.e., there will be X number of elective units in chemistry
that constitute the requirements. Our program, like many others in the U.S., is
accredited by the American Chemical Society (ACS). The ACS has certain core
requirements that must be fulfilled but there is also some flexibility in how
you fulfill them. The system, I would say, is overall robust in chemistry.
Being in a liberal arts college at a private institution, we
are costly. I’d like to think we are high-quality – at least our students who
go on to graduate school tell us that we prepared them very well. As to access,
I don’t know of any online programs in the undergraduate college that may
provide wider opportunities. Our department has a number of students who
transfer in. While we accept their credits, many of them struggle through the
program suggesting that there is some mismatch. Some have no problem adapting,
and others take a semester or two before they find their footing. This is one
way to reduce the overall cost to the student (in terms of tuition). There are
financial aid packages, but those are limited and therefore access is
constrained.
Is there a robust solution to the iron triangle? I’m not
sure, and I don’t think the solution lies in selective liberal arts college as
an archetype. In combination with other institutions and initiatives, perhaps.
The larger, state public institutions may be the place to break the iron
triangle – but they are beset by their own problems, not least of which is
diminishing state funding. Can the programs be transformed to run “lean”
without sacrificing quality? Difficult to say. I’ve been mulling over whether
an online-hybrid of sorts can handle some of the basics encountered in General
and Organic chemistry. Certainly adaptive learning platforms claim some success
in this area. But a high quality platform is not cheap, even if it may provide
widespread access. Would a college institution host and maintain such a
platform at very low cost to students (as opposed to a for-profit ed-tech
provider)? I don’t know.
The problem with complex technological systems as they grow
(inevitable according to Cooper Ramo and Ellul) is that we humans understand
less and less, and that blurs the meaning of robustness. When AIs are tasked
with making determinations, what do robustness rules look like? It would be
scary to aim purely for efficiency. Biologically, at least, that leads to a
loss of robustness such that could result in extinction from significant
environment change. Then again, we human-cyborgs and our machine counterparts
seem to be the most successful so far in altering the environment to suit our
needs, at least in the short-term. Will our robustness be measured in the hundreds
of years since the industrial revolution? It is a mere blip in the eons of
time.
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