Beware the Claims of “Brain-Based” Learning Programs
Exciting new findings can be hard to interpret or apply.
Neuroscience is quite a juicy field, and now the public is eager to get a taste. News pieces about the brain are on the rise — now, not just about clinical issues of the brain, but with broader applications to everyday issues, with a particular focus on “optimizing” its abilities.
When reporters are desperate to portray research as groundbreaking, and when teachers are desperate to find ways to improve student learning, these forces combine to form an appealing niche. Edupreneurs can now be taken more seriously if they cite saucy-sounding science to prop up their methods as brain-based.
Surely a better understanding of the brain can inform education, hence why institutions such as Cambridge and Stanford have legitimate initiatives dedicated to it. But the key is that these efforts are shaped by deep, accurate knowledge of both science and classroom practice. “Science” cannot guide teaching recommendations when either piece is missing.
Lost in Translation
They say the best way to predict the future is by studying the past. What has happened when people took an idea from neuroscience and ran with it before it was understood well enough?
When researchers found that some functions of the brain were mostly localized to one hemisphere, such as reading in the left hemisphere, this got twisted into the idea of “left-brained” versus “right-brained” people — the idea that those with a more developed left hemisphere are more logically inclined, more verbal and mathematical, while a stronger right hemisphere makes one more intuitive, active, and creative. If it were true that these traits are a dichotomy, and a bias toward one side is as inherent and natural as left- or right-handedness, then business-as-usual teaching poses a problem; the right brain isn’t getting enough attention.
Although this has been debunked as early as 1985, a 2012 study of teachers in five countries found that high proportions of them (71% to 91%) believed “differences in hemispheric dominance (left brain or right brain) can help explain individual differences amongst learners.” Educational materials continue to promote alternative methods, such as hands-on activities and design projects, to reach the right brainers’ supposed needs.
This widespread belief may not seem too harmful, but it may lead to inappropriate choices. According to cognitive scientist Dan Willingham, it makes much more sense to base instruction on “what the educational content calls for and on students’ individual needs — not on faulty schemes for characterizing two kinds of thinkers.” If a certain method truly teaches a topic best, teachers shouldn’t worry that half the brains in the class are being ignored!
Pop neuroscience is also hot with narratives about neurotransmitters, especially dopamine. Laypeople who hear about dopamine’s role in learning are quick to link it to whatever else they’ve been told of dopamine, while neuroscientists see a role that’s more diverse and complex. For example, Paul Howard-Jones and colleagues used a changing reward system in their educational games, knowing that such uncertain rewards can speed up learning by boosting mid-brain uptake of dopamine. Upon hearing “dopamine,” though, people reduced it to a “feel good” process, claiming good learning is pleasurable or addictive. Unaware of how dopamine serves different functions in different pathways, they could not appreciate the value of targeting this specific pathway.
Even more common terms have key differences in neuroscience versus everyday speak, explains Howard-Jones. While “motivation” in research refers to the short-term push for a specific action, teachers may think of “motivation” as the long-term quality of goal-driven desire. Similarly, “attention” in teacher-talk may mean a set of focused listening behaviors, but in science, it just refers to what’s being consciously noticed. If people reading neuroscience papers aren’t familiar with these definitions, the papers’ true messages may be distorted or hastily generalized.
Clearly, just because a claim references the brain doesn’t mean it’s truly based in brain science. Too often, it could just be based on a simplified or misinterpreted view of the science.
What’s the Use?
But let’s suppose research does solidly support a certain claim about the brain. Does that mean it can readily be applied to the classroom?
Suppose we can see what’s happening in the brains of children with dyslexia when they struggle to read. How does this give us any new information to help them read? The more useful information, says Willingham, shows which reading interventions are effective in practice. Research on dyslexic brains versus typical-reading brains is relevant for researchers seeking to understand this condition, but is still far removed from those who need to work with it. Reliable reading interventions are supported by studies on the interventions, not brain imaging, and if the research showed no differences in their brains, the recommendations would not change.
In fact, a direct jump from brain findings to teaching recommendations may ignore the research on classroom practice. In one such paper, the authors explain how dopamine and acetylcholine are involved in learning, which is not false, and use this to explain the importance of motivation and attention in the learning process, which is also not false. But then they claim that students learn better with instruction that’s “project-based” — which a strong, consistent body of research shows is not very true. By focusing on the motivation and attention processes, the authors may not realize how cognitive load is another process that interacts, and what seems favorable for one process may not be favorable for another. Real learning outcomes don’t pan out so simply; to make predictions for the real world, see what tends to happen in the real world.
Neuroscience just sounds as if it’s more “real.” If a political candidate needs to be assessed for Alzheimer’s, what kind of diagnosis would you trust more: one based on a detailed series of cognitive tests, or one based on an MRI scan? In this 2014 study, psychology students who were told of the MRI scenario were more convinced of the evidence for his Alzheimer’s, while those who were told he got cognitive tests were more likely to be skeptical of the diagnosis. In reality, though, Alzheimer’s diagnoses are based on cognitive tests, with detailed manuals to interpret them, while there are no solid criteria to detect Alzheimer’s by MRI.
It makes sense, then, that “brain-based” programs would hold more appeal than programs simply described as “evidence-based”; they sound as if they’re based in more rigorous science. But even the most legitimate science may not be so useful in context. Even if particle physics is considered more rigorous than chemistry, we “would almost never think of acidity in terms of particle physics” rather than in chemical terms, says this theoretical physicist, “because it is too far removed.” Similarly, distilled neuroscience results that are far removed from the messy, complicated reality of the classroom may not offer the solutions they seem to promise.
In the Meantime
There is no doubt that the growing field of neuroscience holds great potential. If there is still much to discover about the organ containing everything we learn, we may find new ways for learning to improve. But please, let such discoveries be found in controlled experiments by those trained to interpret them, and let new approaches be recommended only after being tested in real classroom settings. For now, please don’t hastily experiment with learners’ real educations.
