On Canvas
Canvas has two main purposes. Its first purpose is to centralize things. Assignments are handed in there, course information is found there, and readings are posted there. In doing so, Canvas serves a useful purpose, although it is a purpose that is equally well-served by simple web pages from the 1990s. But its secondary purpose, the one that requires the use of a specialized system, is to take many of the normal elements of a classroom, such as class discussions and portfolios, and bring them online. That, I have a problem with.
I have complicated feelings about social technology generally. It is obviously greatly empowering, allowing art and information of all kinds to spread farther and more broadly than ever before. It facilitates projects and events which would previously have been infeasible; I have accomplished and created things that were only possible because of the internet, and collaborated with people whom I have never and would never have met. But it is also dangerous.
Social media can be psychologically ruinous to children and perhaps adults, and the long-term effects of it have not yet been observed. It is also intentionally addictive. And Canvas, like most sites, has embraced a model of notifications and interaction directly patterned off Facebook and its ilk. Recently, I got into a good-natured argument in one of our class discussions, and even when I was away from my computer I felt an impulse to check and see if anyone had responded yet. That is not a healthy instinct, and I am troubled by anything that would move people in that direction; it strikes me as akin to hosting class at a bar when you know many of your students are likely to be alcoholics.
Not only is technology hazardous to our collective mental health, but it is also hazardous to our ability to disagree with one another. An argument in class, in person, will almost always cease escalation at a certain point. You see, from your interlocutor’s expressions, that they share common interests with you, have common values with you, and themselves have a full range of human emotions. The same is easily ignored online, which leads to a level of hostility and distrust which is almost never scene in the outside world. It also leads to a style of conversation in which neither party has to compromise their position because neither party feels the need to take the other’s position seriously. I don’t need to point to a citation; every single person who reads this has seen, or participated in, an argument which was made ugly by the anonymity of the internet. And given that the entire point of an ESL class, or for that matter a writing class, is to enable people to communicate with one another, placing those interactions behind a veil of anonymity seems profoundly counterproductive.
I do believe that Canvas is about the best in its class. It is pretty cleanly organized, and works on a lot of devices. It is open source, which means that its code is not controlling users' computers without their permission. And for its first purpose, that of centralizing class functions, it can do a great deal of good, though (to my mind) that function is best served when a teacher simplifies her use of the system and keeps everything of note on only one or two pages; having to click on “pages”, “assignments”, “modules”, and “discussions” to figure out where an assignment link is helps no one. But when it comes platforms for to social communication, I think the world is better off with as few of them as possible.
I have complicated feelings about social technology generally. It is obviously greatly empowering, allowing art and information of all kinds to spread farther and more broadly than ever before. It facilitates projects and events which would previously have been infeasible; I have accomplished and created things that were only possible because of the internet, and collaborated with people whom I have never and would never have met. But it is also dangerous.
Social media can be psychologically ruinous to children and perhaps adults, and the long-term effects of it have not yet been observed. It is also intentionally addictive. And Canvas, like most sites, has embraced a model of notifications and interaction directly patterned off Facebook and its ilk. Recently, I got into a good-natured argument in one of our class discussions, and even when I was away from my computer I felt an impulse to check and see if anyone had responded yet. That is not a healthy instinct, and I am troubled by anything that would move people in that direction; it strikes me as akin to hosting class at a bar when you know many of your students are likely to be alcoholics.
Not only is technology hazardous to our collective mental health, but it is also hazardous to our ability to disagree with one another. An argument in class, in person, will almost always cease escalation at a certain point. You see, from your interlocutor’s expressions, that they share common interests with you, have common values with you, and themselves have a full range of human emotions. The same is easily ignored online, which leads to a level of hostility and distrust which is almost never scene in the outside world. It also leads to a style of conversation in which neither party has to compromise their position because neither party feels the need to take the other’s position seriously. I don’t need to point to a citation; every single person who reads this has seen, or participated in, an argument which was made ugly by the anonymity of the internet. And given that the entire point of an ESL class, or for that matter a writing class, is to enable people to communicate with one another, placing those interactions behind a veil of anonymity seems profoundly counterproductive.
I do believe that Canvas is about the best in its class. It is pretty cleanly organized, and works on a lot of devices. It is open source, which means that its code is not controlling users' computers without their permission. And for its first purpose, that of centralizing class functions, it can do a great deal of good, though (to my mind) that function is best served when a teacher simplifies her use of the system and keeps everything of note on only one or two pages; having to click on “pages”, “assignments”, “modules”, and “discussions” to figure out where an assignment link is helps no one. But when it comes platforms for to social communication, I think the world is better off with as few of them as possible.
I think you make such an interesting point when you mention the hazardous side of the use of technology becoming almost obsessive. I had not considered technology to be that way in the classroom but simply because my exposure to using things like Canvas in the classroom is so familiar. I take it for granted most of the time. Now, when I think about it, I realize how dangerous that is. There is no longer a disconnect from our classes. We are constantly connected to the assignments we just posted or the discussions we are engaged in. We have easy and quick access to our grades and the responses to the things we say. This is so unbelievably dangerous! Of course you can never fully forget your classes or put your coursework out of your head but you can certainly put it aside and relax for your own mental health. With programs like Canvas with their apps we have downloaded on our phones, can we really put those classes aside? I think not. We are almost forced to constantly face the impending assignment and all the notifications/announcements/alerts that come with that. It is ultimately unhealthy.
ReplyDeleteOnline anonymity is always a concern. One glance at a YouTube or Reddit comments section can attest to the sinister side of human nature creeping behind the veil and stretching its limbs. It allows for something to happen that society intends to keep in check; it allows people to be rude for the sake of being rude. Oddly enough, even sites like FaceBook where anonymity is not so comprehensive has seen a post devolve into name calling and insults between people who might have even called themselves friends before.
ReplyDeleteSo now we consider something like Canvas which is increasingly becoming a social platform with a different theme: education. Often times, the topics that we cover in a school setting are quite dividing and political. While I've seen students for the most part choosing to agree with peers and "just write enough to pass", what happens when passionate students butt heads and then have to interact in person the next day? Does it stay as a debate of ideas or does it escalate?
I know this idea of devolving conversations online was not exactly your point, but you mentioned addiction seeping into the academic setting in the form of notifications...what if aggressive pseudo-anonymous arguments seep into academia in the form of off-topic posturing?