Nietzsche once exclaimed in "Beyond Good and Evil" how what seemed to be vibrant and lively ideas wither away like the yellow leaves of autumn falling off the trees when written down. I’ll include the full quote later because it’s a bit long.
Every time I get excited over an idea, it suddenly becomes insipid and pale shortly before I even start exploring it in writing. So I decide not to pursue it any further.
This time, things are different. I decided to examine the topic more thoroughly. Especially so because it’s a notion that I have experienced firsthand.
The other day I went out for a long walk down the pulsating streets for pedestrians in the historic downtown of Salamanca.
Passing through the Rua Mayor I entertained the idea of starting a club just like comedy ones, but this one would be for people to practice their public speaking, talks, lectures, pitches, interviews, or any other speaking-related engagement.
Yes, this is something similar to Ted talks and other standup philosophy activities organized here and there, but this one is meant as a training ground. Exactly like standup comedy clubs, where comedians get to come up with and test new materials, refine their jokes, and consolidate their acts in preparation for their comedy special.
In other words, the purpose would not be to showcase the finished, polished product, but rather to observe the raw, initial version as it undergoes an iterative process of evolution and refinement.
This was the tip of the rabbit hole before I dove deep into an exploration that prompted me to contemplate the idea of the iterative process for a particular product, as it could be applied to the field of education.
As I stood at the intersection of the faculty of philology and the new cathedral, I found myself pondering the following question: do teachers embark on a journey of continual refinement of their skills throughout their careers?
The answer to the question is multi-layered because, just like standup comedy and other fields, teaching also requires two sets of skills: the pedagogy, which encompasses the form, method, and techniques used in education, and the content form, which includes the level of mastery in the subject matter being taught.
If you earn a diploma or degree in education, chances are you have a strong theoretical foundation in pedagogy. Additionally, you may have the opportunity to gain practical experience through an internship, which could involve observing a teacher's class and eventually giving your own lectures.
When it comes to content, things can be even trickier. For university professors, it's common to teach a variety of courses, each with its own distinct subject matter. Things get slightly more difficult when you have to teach a course for the first time.
Even if you’ve seen the material before, and studied it at length, digesting the information in a way so as to devise coherent lectures, let alone explaining them and conveying the underlying concepts to students in an intelligible manner can be quite a daunting feat.
At that moment, the flood of ideas flowing through my mind led me to believe that in the educational landscape, the process - whether consciously or unconsciously, intentionally or unintentionally - is not accorded the importance it deserves.
In other words, unlike standup comedy, where seasoned and new comedians get the chance to test their material and hone their skills in a training ground of some sort, professors and school teachers either don’t have that luxury, time, or interest in undergoing a similar process.
This is due to several factors, of course, which I will try to enumerate below. But my main focus isn’t so much on the differences between standup comedy and education, as much as on the importance of the process, which I’m mainly interested in.
First, the main difference between standup comedy, giving a Ted talk, writing a paper, or any other activity that requires a process of refinement of a certain product, is that there is no end product in an educational setting. A professor will not be filming a course special. The process is ongoing.
Secondly, the goals and expectations for various forms of communication differ significantly. A comedy show, TED talk, academic paper, and so on, each serve distinct goals and cater to different audience expectations. In education, the primary objective of a professor is to teach students about a specific subject matter, with the expectation that they will acquire the essential learning objectives by the end of the course.
Thirdly, on the one hand, there is no time for teachers to work on their lecture materials, and on the other hand, the course materials often don’t fall within their line of research. In which case they’re generally not exactly developing new material of their own. The need to refine their course material is not that pressing, and they would rather spend their time and effort working on their own research. And this is understandable.
The equivalent of the polishing process for university professors is more commonly academic in nature. That is, they work on their research, go to conferences to present their findings, write papers to showcase them, and revise and edit the papers before they get published.
The teaching process takes a backseat. In many instances, professors show up, explain a subject in whichever way is more comfortable to them, and leave, leaving the students to fend off for themselves.
As previously mentioned, it’s very difficult to ‘work on new material’ because of the expectations of the various stakeholders: students, - in case of schools, parents, - peers, and academic institutions. As a result, professors are expected to show up to class to present the ‘end product’ lecture in lecture out.
The evaluation process at the end of each course (semester) takes into consideration how well the professor did in explaining the material, among other things.
My conjecture is that the implicit assumption is that educators have to continuously be on top of their game. Some of the ramifications of this assumption can see educators develop a lack of interest in producing new materials, polishing their old ones, and honing their skills.
This has been a point of tension for me since I became a university professor in 2013. I had given a few lectures here and there, but leading a course all by myself was something I hadn’t done before.
The expectations were high, and my contract continuity depended by and large on student evaluations. Being prepared for class meant that I had to write down lecture notes, and find a way to practice giving these lectures before I got to class. Every session felt like a standup comedy special.
Over the past ten years, my teaching style has undergone significant changes. But I still struggle to find space to practice my new material. This has become ever more difficult since I quit my academic job and started giving online synchronous courses on my own.
When teaching in a university setting, there is some level of familiarity, and you can experiment with new teaching methods during classes without risking your career as much.
However, with strangers signing up for my courses online, it has become even more challenging to find opportunities to practice my new techniques without alienating the students.
Some of the questions I’m entertaining throughout this article are as follows: are classes supposed to be a space to ‘test out new material’? How would that affect the audience’s perceptions of the lectures or classes?
The polishing process takes months, and it’s a learning curve: to find one’s voice, and style, and to learn how to adapt to the audience’s needs. Somehow all this is undercut in the educational process, or at least this is my impression.
It takes endless trials and errors to refine the method and the content. Teaching is an art. And it’s a learning process for both, the students and the teachers. But for some reason, it doesn’t feel like professors are trying to refine their ‘act’ vis-a-vis teaching.
The majority regurgitate their lecture notes or read through their slides without giving much thought to their delivery, the questions they ask, or the engagement they create with their students.
Again, it’s understandable given the expectations the involved parties have about the end goal.
I feel, however, that this is why being a teacher is tricky. Especially so when you’re expected to showcase your knowledge.
Generally speaking, a lecture turns into a space where the professor has to put on a know-it-all act, with an underlying assumption that students are like sponges.
There isn’t any space there for being vulnerable, testing out new ideas, or even learning the material better by way of teaching it. Education and teaching are ongoing processes. Iteration is essential, just like with other products and activities.
Because the process is often bypassed, educators become ossified with time.
Many things could be done to perhaps improve this condition. I don’t know what these things are. But the main reason why I decided to write this article is that I think we need to celebrate the process instead of cutting it out.
And who knows, maybe I will end up starting a standup club for professors, speakers, etc. where they could refine their bit, improve their skills, and work on new material. And just like standup comedians, a community of teachers, speakers, and the like would be created where they can also support and learn from each other. What would the club be called? Perhaps The Process Club, or something.
After all, who cares how well you know Hume if you can’t explain his ideas in an easy-to-understand and relatable way? Similarly, who cares how well you’ve learned your jokes if you can’t put on a good performance to convey the joke and make people laugh?
At the end of the day, I can only continue to think about Nietzsche’s quote, the one I mentioned at the beginning of the article, which I may or may not have fully understood. But as promised, here is the full-text quote:
Alas! what are you, my written and my painted thoughts! Not long ago you were young and malicious and full of thorns and secret spices - you made me sneeze and laugh - and now? You have doffed your novelty, and some of you, I fear, are ready to become truths, so immortal do they look, so tediously honest! And was it ever otherwise? What then do we write and paint, we mandarins with Chinese brush? Alas, only that which is about to fade and lose its scent! Alas, only birds exhausted by flight, which let themselves be caught with our hand! We immortalize things exhausted and mellow! And it is only for your afternoon, my written and painted thoughts, for which alone I have many colors; but nobody will divine how you looked in your morning, you sudden sparks and marvels of my solitude, you, my old, beloved - wicked thoughts! – Nietzsche
You can find me on Twitter @decafquest.