Introit

The Brain and Leadership

Briefings on Talent & Leadership carried an article on the biology of leadership, with a specific focus on the brain, in the Q4 issue last year. Given the discussions on brain-based education and research in independent schools, this article is valuable for its insights into organizational leadership and how we might be better aware of the role the brain plays, in a leader as well as in employees, managers, etc.

Author David Berreby proposes some "guideposts for leadership" that are helpful:

(1) "It's top-down and bottom-up." Bottom-up processes (i.e., sights, sounds, strong feelings) are important in how people within an organization behave, but so too are top-down processes (rational decision-making and conscious thoughts). "To reach people and motivate them, engage both their top-down thinking and their bottom-up intuitions.

(2) "Big challenges don't always need big solutions." One of the brain's biases is that big problems need big reponses. Not true, as Berreby says, "remember that everything you experience has multiple meanings, because the same object is treated differently in different parts of the brain." Instead of making that big change, you might consider "slight adjustments to detail that matter at other levels of meaning. These are easier and quicker. Often, they're all it takes." Berrby cites the example of "opt-in" versus "opt-out" programs. If you institute an opt-out regime, where people have to consciously choose to refuse something, they will do the action in question (most of the time). Why? Simple: people are averse to change, and paperwork (opting out) is yet another task that seems burdensome.

(3) "Awareness of the biology helps control the biology." The weather is cited as an example of an influence over an interview, etc; folks who interview on cloudy and rainy days tend to have poor interview experiences, as opposed to those who interview on sunny days. We need to plan for the possibility that our judgment may be clouded (no pun intended) on such days; we need to identify a way to correct the rain effect (or similar).

(4) "Make the story coherent on many levels." We know that all brain functions are inter-connected; they depend on one another; they do not work in isolation. Knowing that, "the best way to engage the multi-leveled brain is to tell a story [to others: employees, mid-level managers, etc.] that works at many levels. The more parts [...] you can speak to, the more effective the message."

Check out David Berreby's blog, Mind Matters.

Review of The Shallows

"Our focus on a medium's content can blind us [...]. We're too busy being dazzled or disturbed by the programming to notice what's going on inside our heads" (3)

Nicholas Carr has written a thoughtful and sometimes provocative book about our use of the Internet, suggesting that not only is it our servant, "it is also our master" (4). His point is well-taken, yet it is difficult to believe that such statements could come from Carr, who is just as "connected" as so many of us (perhaps not so ironically, I'm writing about this book on a blog...). He has written for Wired, The Atlantic, and other magazines, and writes elsewhere about technology.

His thesis is that the Internet, where we consume so much information, serves not just as our information center, but is, in a sense, beginning to redefine how our brains process information and think about things, generally. In other words, it affects our higher-order thinking skills: how we analyze and synthesize, contemplate and reflect. It's as if the Internet is rewiring our brains, meaning that our ability to imagine is being altered.

Carr delves into the history of some well-known thinkers as well as the history of technological innovations (such as the movable print press or the typewriter) and how they altered history. He strives to show the human elements that remained resilient during those periods. What is important in these vignettes, though, is how he ends up relating historical research on brain development to larger, technological developments. He makes the reader consider what might be at stake for the human brain when a new technology becomes quite ubiquitous. His major assertion relates to the malleable brain; that the brain has a tremendous plasticity that allows it to be re-organized (re-wired, if you will). That, he points out, has consequences. Happily, though, he also underscores that, "That doesn't mean that we can't, with concerted effort, once again redirect our neural signals and rebuild the skills we've lost" (35).

Carr is concerned about the distraction of our minds. "The constant distractedness that the Net encourages [...] is very different from the kind of temporary, purposeful diversion of our mind that refreshes our thinking when we're weighing a decision. The Net's cacophony of stimuli short-circuits both conscious and unconscious thought, preventing our minds from thinking either deeply or creatively" (119). What is more, the Net disrupts our brain's long-term memory because we don't deal with information in our working memory; the Net encourages the use of short-term memory, meaning that most information doesn't arrive at the working memory center, let alone in our long-term memory.

Although I agree with him on the notion of the Net disrupting long-term memory and working memory, I don't think that we've got a lost cause on our hands. Instead, from an educator's point of view, I think we have an opportunity to harness the power of the Internet and bend it to our human will, if that makes sense. As adults, we may be a "crunch generation" in regards to technology (the Internet in particular): we're crunched because the Internet took us by storm, we are continuing to deal with it -- and be overwhelmed by it, and we're trying to figure out how to master it. Therein lies the opportunity. Can we take control of the medium, and re-orient it to allow us to continue to benefit from those higher-order thinking skills that characterize us as human beings? It is imperative that we do so. Otherwise, we may devolve into having "the mental life of a sea slug" (187).

Carr seems to recognize the same thing in his epilogue, where he points out the outstanding problem with computers (in general): they don't make judgments; they follow unyielding rules. They will miss a moment of brilliance because they lack human adaptability and reaction; instead, they would identify a moment of (potential) brilliance as a deviation from the formulas that make their programs run.

In other words, we need to be purposeful about our humanity, even though we co-exist with rapidly-changing technology that is altering our human experience.

To thine own self be true!

Brains and Technology

Has it occurred to us that independent school students use so much technology--and use it well--because the technologies that now surround us are more in tune with how we are wired as humans? I would posit that there is a synergy to be marked between the human brain and the latest technologies, specifically social networking technologies (and similar) in the Web 2.0 world.

Consider, for example, how often we hear or use the word "intuitive" when we are talking about technology. Smart phones are increasingly "intuitive"; such-and-such a website is "intuitive"; program X is "intuitive." Something that is intuitive is something that is directly apprehended, or something that is readily learned or understood.

We shouldn't use the term "intuitive" lightly. If these technologies are truly intuitive, then, in a sense, we are utilizing technologies that are somewhat (perhaps only superficially, at this point) analagous to our own brains. What are the implications of that connection? That is the question, I believe, that lies at the heart of the discussions schools are having around technology and what to do with it. That very connection is why we sometimes feel so burned out by technology; we're increasing our own brain interface, in a way. It's exhausting because it's so hard to keep up with! Our brains, after all, continue to function quite industriously while we sleep; they're always creating and connecting. Now that technology appears to be doing the same (even if it's being manipulated to do, rather than doing it by itself), nothing appears to ever sleep, to ever take a rest.

How do we harness that connection in order to make the most of it, yet give it shape and definition?

Visual Thinking

Clive Thompson writes a worthwhile article in the October 2010 issue of Wired magazine, "Think Visual." His thesis, based at least in part on Dan Roam's book, The Back of the Napkin, is that the best way to solve complicated problems might be to draw them. Roam argues, as Thompson says, "that our culture relies too heavily on words. Our school systems--and political systems--are designed to promote people who are verbal and eloquent. And text tends to encourage us to describe our problems as narratives or linear lists of facts. But dynamic, complicated problems--like global warming and economic reform--often can't be boiled down to simple narratives. They're systems; they have many little parts affecting one another. In those situations, drawing a picture can clarify what's going on" (66).

As Thompson writes, however, "Unfortunately, picture-drawing is considered childish, which is partly why visual thinking has taken a backseat to verbal agility. But that may be changing, because the Internet has boosted the utility of imagery." He cites the example of Roam, who "drew a series of witty napkin pictures" to describe the recent health care debate. "Within a few weeks, nearly 300,000 people had viewed the images; many emailed Roam thanking him for finally explaining the reform" (66). You can view a video with Dan Roam here, where talks about rethinking PowerPoint.

How might schools incorporate this level of visualization in extant curricula? At what point might we stop considering picture-drawing childish and consider it as a go-to resource? Such an approach would underscore the importance of learning styles, something which continues to make many folks uncomfortable and even suspicious.

Right Brain Development

For all the talk about right-brain versus left-brain and how so many schools need to move away from left-brain tasks and to introduce more right-brain tasks, few people are proposing just how we begin to do that.

The left-brain versus right-brain dilemma (these are generic, over-arching terms, mind you) is not solely about student learning; it's about adult learning as well--faculty, staff, administration. For example, change leadership requires substantive involvement of the right brain.

A cursory look at brain waves might be helpful. We need to shift from using beta waves to employing more alpha waves. The issue is that low amplitude beta waves are associated with being awake and having our eyes open, quite literally. Alpha waves are associated with a relaxed state--with the eyes closed. These brain waves are incredibly strong; in fact, they are the strongest brain signals produced that are detected by electroencephalography (EEG).

The point is that open eyes produce an abundance of beta waves, while closed eyes produce an abundance of alpha waves.

How might we use this knowledge to our advantage in schools, insofar as learning is concerned, but also insofar as leadership is concerned? Do we schedule time to meditate throughout the day? In some schools, that may be the answer. In other schools, perhaps it is to schedule "down time" during the school day, when students are permitted to engage in something relaxing, whether that is reading, sitting quietly, or what not. In terms of our school leaders, we can understand that some quiet time (meditation, relaxation) will afford them the opportunity to be increasingly thoughtful and reflective.

If we were able to cultivate the whole brain during the school day/school year, one wonders what new heights we might reach.

Scarred for Life

In his excellent essay, "Remembrance of Emotions Past", Joseph LeDoux refers to a Swiss physician named Edouard Claparede, who performed an experiment related to memory in the early twentieth century. After many days of introducing and re-introducing himself to a particular patient who could never remember him (due to brain damage), one day he concealed a tack in his palm, and, when the patient shook Claparede's hand, she (the patient) was pricked. In subsequent visits to her, although she could not recollect having met him, she refused to shake his hand. As LeDoux states, "It now seems that Claparede was seeing the operation of two different memory systems in his patient--one involved in forming memories of experiences and making those memories available for conscious recollection at some later time, and another operating outside of consciousness and controlling behavior without explicit awareness of the past learning" (153).

The latter memory system that LeDoux references is one that "forms implicit or nondeclarative memories about dangerous or otherwise threatening situations. Memories of this type are created through the mechanisms of fear conditioning [...]" 154. The mere sight of the physician became what is called a "learned trigger" to the aforementioned patient.

Conditioned fear is a fascinating topic. Consider, for example, that, "once the learning has taken place, the stimulus does not have to be consciously perceived in order to elicit the conditioned emotional responses" (154). LeDoux goes on to call this type of fear-conditioned memory the "emotional memory" (154), and he further posits that the emotional memory is reactivated through the amygdala system, coordinated with the hippocampal system, in a sort of "unified memory function" (171).

Let us now integrate this research with education. As advisors, we are all familiar with students who did not like such-and-such a teacher. Granted, the vast majority of these "dislikes" are usually due to personality differences and the like, but, when a faculty member truly performs some act that writes itself into the emotional memory of a student, how can we reasonably expect that student to finish a class with that faculty member, with any degree of success? It is reasonable, for example, to tell the student to "just deal with it"? Knowing what LeDoux has written about how the actual stimulus no longer needs to be present (consciously perceived) in order to elicit the emotional response, why would we push a student to continue with faculty member x, y, or z?

This approach, i.e., usage of the term "emotional memory" and potentially acknowledging its role, creates some interesting potentialities. For example, once aware of it, would students use it as a tool to affect those teachers whom they dislike? Would parents leverage it against the administration? Would administrators be willing to use it when providing a performance appraisal? What would the litigious potentialities be? Would it be better to leave "emotional memory" out of the equation entirely?

We know that emotion is intimately intertwined with learning, so how do we proceed?

Neuroscience and the Nature of Learning

Sarah-Jayne Blakemore and Uta Frith's work on learning and remembering is tremendously useful for independent school educators, mostly because it provides us with a lexicon for discussions of how our students are learning. Consider the following list.

• episodic memory
• semantic memory
• procedural memory
• working memory
• prospective memory
• implicit learning
• conditioned response
• conditional learning
• explicit learning

How might we incorporate such terminology when writing progress reports or quarterly reports, for example? Should we? Would it involve too much explanation to parents (what each term means, etc.)? Would it be better to keep such a lexicon in-house for awhile?

We may not be neuroscientists, but using the aforementioned terms is probably more useful than conjecturing what interconnections (etc.) the following areas are exhibiting in Suzie or Johnny:

• cerebellum
• basal ganglia
• premotor
• anterior cingulate
• prefrontal cortex
• hippocampus
• frontopolar cortex
• frontal cortex
• entorhinal cortex
• temporal lobes

Even if you're a biology teacher, using such terms would overwhelm parents, to be sure (unless they're neuroscientists!). What is more, even the neuroscientists are trying to figure out just how these areas interrelate, or sometimes don't, and how learning is affected.

What we do know is that the brain is wonderfully complex, and that the ability to learn certain things is predicated on how well-wired these areas of the brain are, how much teachers use activities that encourage use of these areas, and so on. Learning and neuroscience needs to be a partnership of exploration.

Neuromyths for Digestion

In a 2002 report, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), proposed the term "neuromyths". The term is meant to suggest that findings in neuroscience can be easily misunderstood, which, in turn, leads to inaccurate information, which is then propagated. Following are three neuromyths that we hear frequently in independent schools, some of which we ourselves propagate.

(1)There are hemispheric differences between the "left brain" and the "right brain."

(2) The brain has critical periods when certain skill sets should be learned, and that this education must occur at precise moments of development, or all is lost.

(3) The most effective educational interventions have to occur simultaneously alongside periods of synaptogenesis (formation of synapses, or interconnections, in brain cells).

Here are some things to consider when dealing with the aforementioned neuromyths. The numbers below correspond to the numbers above.

(1) The brain has complex, cross-hemisphere connections, and both hemispheres work in concert on the cognitive tasks that neuroimaging has explored to-date. There is, to be sure, some "hemispheric specialization" regarding where certain skills are housed, but even these hemispheric specializations are challenged by subsets of people (those who are blind, as well as non-native English learners, for example).

(2) The term "critical period" is a misnomer, as it suggests that, if this time period is missed, the brain can never acquire that skill to the same extent. A replacement term of "sensitive period" has been proposed, and makes more sense. Foreign language acquisition (my own field) is where one most often hears this argument, and, while there is probably a higher degree of acquisition ability at a younger age, it does not mean that older students cannot learn a language competently without having begun at an earlier age.

(3) Any new, specific, environmental stimulation will cause the brain to form new connections, new synapses. It is not tied to age, nor is "synaptic density" any predictor of a greater capacity to learn. The evidence is simply not there.

Division-level meetings and/or full-faculty meetings would provide useful fora in which to discuss these neuromyths. I suspect that such discussions would lead to re-evaluations of some assumptions that have informed the development of our curricula these past ten years or so.

For further reading, I recommend the excellent article, "Neuroscience and Education" by Usha Goswami, professor of education at Cambridge University, whose work is readily available in multiple scholarly journals.

Ethics and the Post-Industrial Creative Brain

"At its best, ethical decision making weaves together emotion, high reasoning, creativity, and social functioning, all in a cultural context"

(Mary Helen Immordino-Yang and Antonio Damasio, "We Feel, Therefore We Learn" in The Brain and Learning, 183-98; citing research by Gardner, Csikszentmihaly, and Damon, Good Work: When Excellence and Ethics Meet)

Given the vibrant and regular research on the intersection of neuroscience and education that is now happening, and given that independent school graduates need to have "creativity" as a 21st-century skill, why do we not do more in our schools insofar as ethics education is concerned? It seems a natural crossroads for research and practice. What is more, why shouldn't schools begin to do more with social technologies as a means of complementing how the brain learns, particularly how it blends cognition and emotion, a feat which allows us to make ethical and moral decisions?

As Immordino-Yang and Damasio go on to state, "the processes of recognizing and responding to complex situations, which  [...] hold the origins of creativity, are fundamentally emotional and social" (192). Creativity, then, becomes a way in which we all survive; it makes us adaptable. It is nurtured most successfully in a socially stimulative environment.

Why then would we have students sit in "industrial" rows, always facing a specific direction and a specific visual (either the teacher or the board, for example)? If creativity is adaptable, and if adaptability heightens creativity, why would we continue to adhere to an industrial formula of education?

Are we as educators looking for output (industrial) or outcomes (21st century)?

Disrupting Instruction

Writing in the Spring 2010 issue of Independent School, James E. Buckheit, Head of School at Vistamar School (CA), highlights the "rapid progress" made in cognitive science, asserting that this field of study "offers us another chance to get education right" (90). His independent school perspective on this matter is a refreshing counterpoint to standards-based education.

For many educators and educational leaders, brain-based education--a combination of neurodevelopment, cognitive science, and educational practice--has become a prism through which to review and re-evaluate traditional educational theory and practice, a model that remains prevalent in most of our schools. We have made some strides, however, over the past twenty years, beginning to explore such concepts as mastery learning, experiential learning, learning styles, multiple intelligences, cooperative learning, practical simulations, inquiry-based learning, and movement education.

Though now becoming a bit dated (who'd have thought that a ten-year-old publication would be considered "dated"?!), a great primer for those heads of school interested in learning more about brain-based education and its possibilities for the classroom is MindShifts: A Brain-Compatible Process for Professional Development and the Renewal of Education, 2nd ed. (Tucson: Zephyr Press, 1999). Authors Caine, Nummela Caine, and Cromwell present what they call "brain/mind principles" that emphasize the importance of the social brain and developmental aspects of learning:

• The brain is a parallel processor that can perform several activities simultaneously
• The brain perceives wholes and parts simultaneously
• Information is stored in multiple parts of the brain and is retrieved through multiple pathways
• All learning is mind-body: movements, foods, attention cycles, chemicals
• The human search for meaning is innate, and this search comes through patterning
• Emotions are critical to patterning, and drive our attention, meaning, and memory
• Meaning is more important than information solely
• Learning involves focused attention and peripheral perception
• We have two types of memory: spatial and rote. Embedding facts in neural spatial memory helps us to understand best
• The brain is social and develops better in concert with other brains
• Complex learning is enhanced by challenge and inhibited by stress
• Learning is developmental

Other researchers submit that these brain/mind principles lead to design principles for educators, some of which we're doing already in our schools, and others that seem uncomfortable to us. For example, we're offering more and more resources in our classrooms, allowing students to learn the material in different ways (differentiated instruction is taking hold). However, if a first grader wanted to crawl under a desk and read her favorite book with a classmate, would most independent school teachers let her/them? Imagine having to explain that scene to an admission officer taking a parent on tour and peering into that teacher's classroom, only to see young learners in nooks and crannies rather than in the traditionally-perceived-as-correct rows (at desks) or in reading circles, with a teacher in the center. Schools that are in touch with how kids learn, however, are already doing this, and the admission officer in question should take pride in explaining to a prospective parent just why the kids are where they are. Yet, such practice is not commonplace. Brain-based research tells us that a variety of places that offer different lighting provides stimulating environments for brain development.

Given this diversity in design principles, it is no coincidence that so many self-directed learning opportunities are popping up daily, with the "convergence of broadband Internet resources and entrepreneurial ventures" that Buckheit cites. Brain-based education is as much about internal culture change (faculty and administration) as it is external (parents, grandparents, trustees, alumni). Technology, ever more social in its functionality, is a natural partner for brain-based education. Together, they function as a powerful disruption, one which heads and schools need to address and embrace.