Tag Archives: instructional design

Book Review: Design for How People Learn

Julie Dirksen’s book, Design for How People Learn (San Francisco: New Riders/Pearson, 2016), came recommended by Connie Malamed on her list 12 Instructional Design Books You Should Know About. Since Ms. Malamed has also written a review of the book, I won’t go into details about the content. You can read Ms. Malamed’s review here.

Modeling Good Instruction

In many ways, the strengths of Ms. Dirksen’s book lie in how she models the very design strategies she recommends. Her presentation style is conversational and engaging and easily serves as a Dirksen_book_imagemodel for how to communicate information well. The relaxed tone, combined with sometimes irreverent humor, lighten and enliven the theoretical points she has to make. Likewise, her frequent use of scenarios helps illustrate the more abstract design concepts. She is adept at combining text, graphics and a range of explanatory techniques to present complex information. For example, to give the reader a clearer picture of cognitive functioning she builds on a curious, but effective analogy. First proposed by Jonathan Haidt in The Happiness Hypothesis (2006), this analogy suggests that an elephant rider can stand in for the conscious, verbal thinking part of the brain and the elephant itself acts like the emotional, visceral brain.
Through a serious of humorous photos, image captions and explanations, Ms. Dirksen both discusses the analogy in more detail and considers the implications this understanding of the brain has for learning [124-27].

Ms. Dirksen regularly integrates graphics of various kinds (e.g. photos, line drawings) into the text. They are often deployed in ways that reinforce the contrasts or progressions she is describing. Additionally, she uses headings and subheadings liberally. These, combined with the graphics, help chunk the content so that the reader isn’t overwhelmed with large amounts of text. A book intent on introducing brain science and instructional design methods could easily get caught up in abstraction and technical descriptions of research. A strong point of the book is that Ms. Dirksen avoids the technical jargon while still firmly basing her points on the relevant psychological and brain science research. I also appreciated the amount of time Ms. Dirksen spent discussing design techniques for enhancing motivation and emotional engagement. As a new teacher, I remember being primarily focused on the ability of my students to acquire knowledge and build skills. I soon learned, however, that very few students were going to acquire any knowledge I had if they weren’t first motivated to learn it. By devoting several chapters to these learning challenges and the design solutions for them, Ms. Dirksen clearly demonstrates her understanding of key conditions for learning.


The title, Design for How People Learn, suggests that the book could potentially address learning in a very broad sense. Indeed, the focus in a couple of the early chapters on memory and brain functioning could be useful for anyone with a beginning interest in cognition and memory. Nevertheless, it becomes clear that Ms. Dirksen is addressing a particular audience and has developed her book with new trainers and instructional designers in mind. Given Ms. Dirksen’s own experience with corporate training environments, it’s not surprising that she frequently includes stock photos featuring office work and creates scenarios that involve trainers and sales staff. Her choice to appeal to this audience and to focus primarily on the corporate context, however, leads her to make several key assumptions about the goals of learning that are problematic. Consequently, her design solutions don’t really speak to the true range of adult learning situations.

One working assumption in the book is that learning is primarily individual and cognitive. That is to say, learning is about a person getting knowledge into long-term memory. As has become clear to me through my own humanities research and through engagement in the Coursera eLearning Ecologies class, memory and learning are highly social and environmental. I’m reminded, for an immediate example, of the studies that show how a person’s ideas of acceptable body type (and ability to gain or lose weight) can depend on whom they socialize with. While it is certainly important for workers to commit information to memory so that it can be immediately accessible, most work (and living) is not done in isolation. The collective wisdom of teams is often of greater accuracy than individual memory anyway, so it makes sense to leverage it in learning too. For example, one would expect an EMT to be able to recall certain information from his long-term memory. In a life-threatening situation it doesn’t make sense for an emergency worker to be looking to a job aid or reference card. But really, how often do EMTs work alone? In most cases, I would imagine, emergency workers have to work with a partner or as part of a team. In training EMTs, then, wouldn’t it make more sense to focus on ensuring that the EMT can work with his partner so that their collective knowledge can be used most effectively? To concentrate primarily on developing individual cognition is to ignore the real contexts in which people work and live and remember.

The belief that learning is about individual memory, however, rests on another set of assumptions: that improved workplace performance is the goal of learning and that tracking individual performance is the best way to understand if it is happening. Assessing employees’ performance depends on having an accurate understanding of how learning interventions have worked. Companies usually rely on measuring of one kind or another, since social science and business researchers typically use quantitative methods in their analysis. If we accept that a person is a definable base “unit,” individuals become easy to track. One could measure the performance of larger groups (and I’m sure companies do), but the makeup of teams and groups can change and the quality and quantity of individual contributions to group work may be very diverse. This makes evaluating workplace performance difficult, particularly if the goal is to identify talent for promotion or to pinpoint areas of individual weaknesses. Unfortunately, this approach operates on an unsophisticated understanding of the nature of individuals. Biologically it may be fairly easy to identify an individual. But, as much humanistic, sociological and brain science research has shown, people are tied up with other people and the environment in ways that make it very difficult to see the lines of division between them. Developing learning interventions that are measurable may still be a worthy goal and yield important information about the quality and extent of learning. It is important to understand, however, that there are many other possible goals of learning beyond improved workplace performance and that there is likely quality learning happening that will never be revealed through quantitative measuring.

Consequently, the design solutions provided in the Design for How People Learn work best for shorter-term training programs whose effectiveness needs to be evaluated for external reasons. They do not really address the development arc of fundamental skills, such as critical thinking or the so-called “soft skills,” that require more instructional engagement over a longer span of time. To her credit, Ms. Dirksen recognizes that the atomized interventions she mainly describes are not intended for this kind of learning [73-74]. While she also does pay attention to social and informal learning and to designing learning for the environment, she views them primarily as supports to other kinds of formal instruction rather than being primary methods of learning. Given the corporate concern with team work and a growing breakdown of traditional reporting structures in modern business environments, however, it would seem that helping workers learn through collaboration would be part of a trainer’s basic job description.

In any case, Design for How People Learn is a worthwhile read. Many of the design suggestions are easily transferable to a range of instructional contexts. I would go so far as to recommend this book to anyone interested in communications and marketing as I think her recommendations for increasing motivation and supporting habit formation could be used to increase audience engagement generally. Nevertheless, it’s important to keep in mind that a different world of learning exists outside the corporate environment, that learning isn’t always easily evaluated, and that learning has value regardless of its ability to contribute to an organization’s profitability. If a reader looking for an introduction to instructional design can keep these caveats in mind, she will find much of use in this book.

Book Review: The Psychology of Everyday Things

Even though I’ve dabbled in educational technology and pedagogy in the past, I decided that if I’m going to focus on this seriously I’d better up my game. I’m currently looking into formal instructional design certificates, but in the meantime I thought I’d read independently, take a free online course or two, and do some informational interviews.

I’m starting out with independent reading. I recently googled books about instructional design, elearning and project management that instructional designers and technologists have recommended.  From these, I then compiled my own list in Goodreads. I plan to add to it as I go along and to report on some of my thoughts and impressions in this blog.

Book Summary

design-of-everyday-thingsThe only book on my list currently available from my local public library is The Design of Everyday Things, by Don Norman (rev. ed. New York: Basic Books, 2013). While the book doesn’t speak to instructional design per se, its insights into how we use objects certainly has had carryover when designing computer-based objects. In creating its user interface, Apple seems to have applied many of the suggestions on usability and functionality discussed in the original 1988 edition (the version that I read). So I was not at all surprised to learn that the author, Don Norman, served as a Vice President of the Advanced Technology Group at Apple from 1995-1997.

Norman’s main thrust in the book is to apply what he has learned from cognitive science and psychology to come up with a better understanding of design and of what makes an object function well. He presents a list of several main principles of good design: visibility, having a good conceptual model, mapping and feedback. In Norman’s view, well-designed objects provide visible clues to how they should be used (he later includes aural clues in his definition of “visible”). A door with a visible indicator, such as a flat, rectangular plate, is an example of good design because you can intuit both that it should be pushed (not pulled) and where it should be pushed. Badly designed doors leave you wondering what it is you are supposed to do when you see a door (push? Pull? Left side? Right side?).

Providing an accurate conceptual model of the object is also a principle of good design. When the conceptual model is in alignment with the way in which the object actually works, the user can easily predict what effect his action on the object will have or identify where an interaction with the object went wrong. If something doesn’t work as expected and you have the wrong conceptual model, you might not correctly deduce where the problem lies and then become frustrated, thinking it’s you that’s the problem and not the design.

Correctly mapping an object’s controls to the object’s movements is also important. For instance, knobs on a stove should correspond accurately to the stove elements they control. If the knobs on a stove are not clearly mapped to the elements (as illustrated in the image below), then the user has no clear idea which knob corresponds to which element.


Example of bad design: User is unclear which knob goes with which stove element

Norman’s point is that in good design there is not confusion about how the controls and movements are related—users intuitively know because the spatial arrangement of the knobs reflects that of the stove elements (“natural mappings”).


Example of good design: Spatial arrangement of knobs corresponds to the arrangement of the elements

Feedback is also essential. The user should have immediate access to information that lets her know the results of her actions. Without accurate feedback the user is likely to attribute the results of the action to something other than the real cause.

Another major thesis of the book is that there is “knowledge in the head” (memory) and “knowledge in the world” (text, symbols and other mnemonic clues) and that understanding when and how we use each knowledge set can help us better design for functionality. Norman asserts that good design lessens the mental effort a person must expend to use an object correctly by simplifying what “knowledge in the head” a person should remember. By using constraints that reduce alternatives and by incorporating explanation into the design (thereby taking some “knowledge in the head” and making it part of the environment), the designer can help a person use an object quickly, effectively and with the least amount of mental taxation.

My take

I appreciated Norman’s understanding of how the use of memory is central to how we interact with the physical world. Even while we can use this knowledge to optimize design, it started me thinking about the role of the designer in constructing a user’s experience.   One thing that is out of the scope of Norman’s book that designers need to consider is how they use their design knowledge and to what end.   The assumption in Norman’s book is that designing for usability and functionality is the desired end for everyday objects. Even if we accept this premise for many objects (e.g. teapots, television sets, telephones), it quickly becomes problematic without a clearer understanding of what “everyday objects” means and what kinds of objects it includes. In the case of instructional design and computer-based learning objects, there may be different design goals in operation simultaneously. In an online course, education is the primary goal so we may want the LMS navigational tools to be as clear and straightforward as possible. This helps the student focus attention on achieving learning objectives. But there may be learning objects within the online course for which an “easy experience” is not the goal—quite the opposite. For example, maybe one learning objective asks students to design a computer game and the student is asked to use software like MIT’s Scratch. In these cases, we actually don’t want to fully limit the user’s options or provide full explanation, we want the user to assume the role of the designer in creating his own knowledge. Mental effort is desired.

I also see a problem here when these design principles are applied to objects that may be seen as “everyday,” but whose use has much broader social implications. In Norman’s analog world of 20th century telephones, we weren’t able to see the person with whom we were communicating and thus we couldn’t see behaviors that could facilitate communication, such as gestures. In this case, the constraint is absolute and it also only impacted individual, person-to-person communications.  With digital technologies, however, much more is possible in design in terms of what individual and social behaviors a technology can constrain or afford. For instance, the incorporation of emoticons to facilitate emotional expression in Facebook was a choice.  If the goal is to facilitate communication, this decision can be a good one in many instances. Emoticons can help the user represent his own emotional state or interpret that of a friend more accurately than relying on text alone.  However, decisions have consequences. You can “like” or use an emoticon to respond to a post in a second. In order to respond in a more thoughtful, deliberate manner, however, you must expend additional energy to actually compose a written response. In this case, the platform is made to favor automatic emotional reaction (easy) over reasoned thought (more difficult).  On top of that, your “like” of your friend’s post can be seen by all of his friends too, and someone who may not have sufficient context for understanding your reaction may choose to respond.  While such affordances can facilitate individual communication, they may actually create miscommunication at the social level.

It is important to note, however, that users do have agency in their use of the technology. It is possible that someone external to the technology could “hack” it and impose an additional constraint that would afford a different kind of behavior, such as a teacher who monitors a student’s posts and requires thoughtful, written reflections for a grade in a class.  Individuals also have certain controls within technologies like Facebook over how their posts appear and to whom. However, it is important to understand the default state of the technology because, for better or worse, that is what will be most usable to the greatest number of people.

There are certainly advantages to promoting ease of use for both the user and technology companies.  Greater usability ensures that the platform is widely accessible, which in turn can make it more financially successful. However, these choices can also have downsides. These downsides may often go unrecognized in an era where technology on its own is seen as playing a salvific role in society. The main concern, as I see it, is making sure technology and instructional designers are aware of the assumptions about optimal use on which a particular technology is based.  So, while I value the design principles Norman puts forth in this book, before technology creators take usability as their main design goal they need to reflect on the larger forces driving that goal, the many implications their design choices might have and start asking if there aren’t other possible design goals with greater social value.





This is my first post to this blog.  I titled it why because I figured anyone who reads this blog will want to know my reason for starting it.  There are a couple different reasons actually…

First, I want a space to experiment with new design methods and digital tools, to reflect on what I learn, and to get feedback from others. I am of a generation that has had one foot in and one foot out of the digital world. As a high school and college student I used long-hand to take course notes and I typed college and scholarship applications on a typewriter.  My use of computers was limited to word processing. The move to internet, iPads, and apps has taken place since I’ve been out of college.  In the intervening years I have played around with social media, started a travel blog, and tested a variety of online platforms and technologies.  Nevertheless, none of this inquiry has been very systematic. Starting with this blog, I aim to be a bit more thorough in my approach by documenting and reflecting on the design ideas and tools I encounter. I also hope to hear back from others on their own experimentation with digital technologies and thereby expand my view of what’s out there and what’s possible.

Second, I’m currently in the middle of a career transformation and want a way to share my experiences with others.  My career transition has been underway for a while, and while I’m homing in on a particular field (instructional design and e-learning), the transition process is not yet complete.  I’ve personally benefited from online forums for career changers, such as The Versatile PhD.  By sharing my story I hope I can provide some help and support to other career changers, especially ABDs and PhDs looking to move beyond academia, even if their paths are different from mine.

While I still feel like I’m in the midst of great change, I’m coming to realize that moving into this blog and into a career in e-learning and instructional design is less a break from the past than I initially thought. I’ve long had interests in design and in the way people combine different modes–text on tangible objects, video with text, audio with image and text–to communicate with others or to represent themselves to themselves.  There are actually many examples of representation and communication where modes are combined (think books-on-tape or illustrated manuscripts). In fact, much of the work in my “past life” concerned how oral, visual, and written modes were combined in ancient times, how cultural works were redesigned using material from the past, and how those redesigns impacted how early cultures understood who they were and where they came from.  I’m actually quite excited at the prospect of learning how design theories might help me articulate ideas about cultural formation that I’ve worked on previously. At the same time, I look forward to applying my knowledge of literacy and multimedia, gleaned from the study of the pre-modern period, to help solve more contemporary problems and issues.