As someone who has taught online for over five years, but who also has done this work on a fairly small-scale in custom-made sites crafted by my department for our students and discipline, I am concerned about many recent developments in online learning. Basically, what have been craft-oriented kinds of production built as special-purpose solutions for specific programs and faculties are being displaced and/or subsumed by more standardized packages for large-scale teaching, class administration, and content management. These standardized applications are, in turn, created for sale on the open market to any college or university intent upon taking their lessons online. Why this is happening, who is seeking gains and evading costs by doing it, and how it is affecting higher education are now critical questions that need to be addressed. Consequently, I will attempt to provide some answers to them as I discuss the implications of this broader shift in online learning. This shift is neither necessary nor natural, so the forces pushing higher education in this direction need to be reconsidered.
With the passage of time, most social institutions change, and
universities are no exception. Some schools may escape the rising tides
of neoliberal cost-cutting by finding friends and funds out in society
to continue their time-tested forms of excellence. Many others, however,
face the hard realities of less financial support, diminished public
backing, and fewer special prerogatives.
1
In this fiscal environment, a new "technofix," or the distance
and distributed learning technologies of the virtual university, is now
believed by many to provide the single best solution for the fiscal
problems of many institutions, even after the dot com bust of 2000-2001.
Universities must change, according to these advocates of the virtual
university, by becoming more efficient. By emulating for-profit
businesses with their thin managerial hierarchies, "hollowed out"
service centers, and flexible work forces, these voices claim colleges
and universities finally will leave the dark ages.
2
Computer-mediated communications coupled with new multimedia
content, and probably many more flex-time employees working without
benefits or tenure, in turn, will complete this neoliberal model of
restructuring, and make the university finally "deliver the goods."
Yet, these business-based solutions are certain to get almost everything wrong: both for today's universities and for tomorrow's virtual university. New digital technologies should not be used in Taylorized work restructuring programs to cheapen labor, cut costs, and dilute product quality. The real promise of computer-mediated communication lies instead in using new technologies very creatively by repersonalizing some human interactions rather than misusing them so efficiently that they deaden everyone's personal involvement in higher learning. Online education is not worth doing unless and until its technologies are used to enhance everyone's learning rather than reduce an institution's costs of service.
These neoliberal agendas for online learning must not be turned
into the only path for the salvation of higher education. In fact, much
of the promise here for restructuring many universities is illusory.
Digitalization by itself does not save money, reduce work force levels,
accelerate progress toward degrees, or lower overhead costs. Every
indication thus far suggests instead that if it is done right, or in
ways that enhance learning, costs will increase with digitalization.
Correspondingly, work forces will increase in size and responsibility.
In the long term, degrees actually may not be taken at all. Likewise,
digitalization can slow progress through academic programs, blur
disciplinary divisions, and rapidly increase overhead expenditures for
more bandwidth, server capacity, and software development. Nonetheless,
the personal interactivity and general quality of higher education can
be quite rewarding, so the nature of higher education could shift
profoundly.
3
Of course, digitalization can help schools save money, but only
by eliminating buildings and/or faculty.
No technology works as a one-dimensional force within any society. Computer-mediated communication is no exception. Many different agents are working for and against changing a vast array of structures, which are struggling, in turn, to bend these technologies to suit their diverse interests and agendas. On one side, there are those who see online learning as a mass production tool to construct thin, for-profit, and skill competency based systems of training for life-long learners, beginning at age five and continuing on through life's end. They are, in turn, pushing for the creation of large expensive systems on a mass media model, which essentially presumes production for global audiences. These groups are simply extending the long-run secular trends on campus toward de-emphasizing faculty control over the overall curriculum and instructional practices in general in the name of "assessment, "quality control," or "standards of learning." On the other side, there are those who believe digital technologies will make it possible to reorganize existing universities, colleges, and schools around qualitatively enriched forms of learned discourse and scholarly discipline without losing the thicker, not-for-profit, and degree-centered values of traditional academic life. These approaches typically are centered upon small-scale, craft-oriented, and student-centered systems built to serve smaller local ends. Both of these policy alliances are up and running on campus, and each of them currently is twisting and turning the tools and techniques of computer-mediated communication to advance their respective projects.
Post-Fordism Gets on Campus
The era of flexible specialization dawned off-campus in the late
1960s and early 1970s with the emergence of "a new social system beyond
classic capitalism," rising out of the digitalization of production, the
globalization of exchange, and the deconcentration of organization by
global business.
4
From the ruins of Fordist regimes of industrial production and
state administration, loosely coupled transnational alliances of
producers began to coordinate local markets, regional governments,
global capital, and sophisticated technologies.
5
And these new agencies of flexible accumulation, working below
and above the traditional power centers of national states and big
business, also started experimenting with the means for evading most
existing spatial barriers, time zones, and work rules.
As David Harvey has observed, the
accumulation/production/regulation regime of flexible specialization
"typically exploits a wide range of seemingly contingent geographical
circumstances and reconstitutes them as structured internal elements of
its own encompassing logic.... [T]he result has been the production of
fragmentation, insecurity and ephemeral uneven development within a
highly unified global space economy of capital flows."
6
The teachings of the classic liberal arts traditions have little
room to grow under the high-tech performativity norms embedded at the
core of this flexible accumulation regime. When articulating the norms
for this regulatory regimen, as Lyotard asserts, "the State and/or
company must abandon the idealist and humanist narratives of
legitimation in order to justify the new goals: in the discourse of
today's financial backers of research, the only credible goal is power.
Scientists, technicians, and instruments are purchased not to find
truth, but to augment power."
7
The creation, circulation, and consumption of knowledge, then,
as it has evolved at modern research institutions during the Second
Industrial Revolution, the rise of Fordist economies, or the growth of
national welfare/warfare states from the 1880s through the 1980s, is now
changing rapidly. Flexible specialization celebrates speed, variety, and
diversity on a postnational scale. And, its informationalized productive
forces require increasingly sophisticated inputs of
data/information/knowledge from everywhere all of the time in order to
function efficiently.
8
At this juncture, then, a new performativity ethic for
post-Fordist schooling has started to displace the norms of
bildungsphilosophie
once enshrined in older, pre-informational modes of education.
Many colleges and universities nominally are state-funded
operations, but the traditional commitment to higher education as a
vital public good fully deserving of state monies has been lost amidst a
new policy discourse that reimagines such cultural capital essentially
as a private good. Rising tuition and fees, declining public funding,
and increasing market awareness all are concrete proof, as James
Appleberry, the president of the American Association of State Colleges
and Universities says, "of a policy shift that reflects a sentiment that
higher education is solely an individual benefit and need not be funded
to further the country's best interests."
9
The emergent regime of flexible specialization, as Reich
observes, actually renders all of these national agendas quite
problematic as fast capitalist operations hollow out national economies,
pull individuals from one country to be trained in another to work in
yet another, and reduce the rational timelines for any serious
investment decision from decades to days.
10
Success, then, for colleges and universities working under the
norms of post-Fordist flexible specialization indicate that it will be
necessary to do
much less, not much more. Instead of expanding degree programs, hiring
more faculty, enrolling additional students, buying more books, erecting
new buildings, or elaborating disciplinary frameworks, the university of
the 21st century might be effective only if it can discontinue degree
programs, fire more faculty, enroll fewer students, buy fewer books,
shutter existing facilities, and consolidate disciplines into more
compact units. Knowledge is always shaped by power, and the productive
power of transnational enterprise is pushing toward a world that
configures knowledge in this fashion. Such moves, following those found
in the "hollowed out" corporations of pre-informationalized
manufacturing and services during the 1980s and 1990s, will succeed only
if the university begins outsourcing its services, downsizing its
offerings, flattening its hierarchies, and trimming its personnel.
11
The results of these "innovations" on campus, of course, range from the basically abortive to the completely disastrous, because universities still should be "schools," or rich cultural sites for leisurely learning, rather than "laboratories," or spartan settings of laborious travail. Trying to impose notions from the downsized, post-Fordist workplace only burdens already overtaxed faculty and administrators with even more requirements to turn out new data, plans or reports about the daily affairs of their institutions. Actually, it is an egregious category mistake to cast universities as factories. Unlike most manufacturing operations, higher education should deal with specific qualities of people - not general properties of materiale; discontinuous processes of intellectual growth - not continuous runs of uniform output; subjective communal decisions - not objective technical-choices; enriched free time avocations - not impoverished work time; vocations. Flexible specialization techniques on campus typically are a monstrous affair, culminating in assessments of students as if they were runs of widgets, absurd five-year cycles of post-tenure reviews in which one fifth of the faculty is surveyed every year by the other four-fifths to certify they are still "productive stock" like cotton fields or banana plantations, and curriculum reengineering schemes whose product is more paperwork to certify the processing of students in key "core education" classes, which now might constitute forty or fifty percent of all available classes.
From Craft to Factory Production
For academics, the key question being raised by online learning is "job control." The allure of possible efficiencies mystifies many important job control issues by bundling them up with technological innovations. These innovations only underscore the extent to which job control by professors on campus has already been severely eroded by previous efforts to emulate factory models of teaching. By choosing to take university instruction into online applications, one can decide tout court against many prerogatives now exercised by professors in face-to-face classroom teaching. The key rhetorical conceit of many multimedia-rich online learning alternatives is that professors simply are transmitting information in their traditional lectures and seminars. Therefore, their information-dispensing efforts, could, or even should, be enhanced, extended, or even extinguished by technological surrogates.
Yet, these technological interventions also mean to rob professors of their authority. In most large-scale instructional solutions, course syllabi are designed and constructed by technical designers, panels of experts, or outside consultants, and then sold as mass media products online or in boxes by publishers. Lectures, in turn, are automated with streaming video or graphics. Testing can be contracted out to assessment businesses, student advising, tutorial discussions, and independent studies, can be conducted by paraprofessional workers without Ph.D.s. At the end of the day, job control is lost. And, as the educational product is increasingly commodified, the current salary structures and status systems of academic labor will be replaced by a more stratified regime of a few professorial superstars whose "big names" will be sold in multimedia blockbusters that many lesser paraprofessionals help deliver to students in integrated markets of mass produced instruction, advising, discussion, and assessment. Neither education nor entertainment, these capital-intensive products could be only a dismal new sort of infotainment.
This image of the future rarely is painted by academics.
Instead, it is the fancy of large corporations like Microsoft or Intel,
lobbying groups like Educause, and the digerati like Nicholas Negroponte
or Bill Gates. Repeating the same old silly anti-scholastic stories
about professors making the transition from "the-sage-on-the-stage" to
"the guide-on-the-side," these simplistic narratives name technological
imperatives, economic necessity, or unserved markets as the reason to
recast the role of professors as researchers, teachers, and
service-providers.
12
These allegedly inexorable forces of change are, in fact,
lobbying campaigns by hardware manufacturers, software publishers,
telecommunications vendors, and educational consultants playing off of
familiar profscam mythologies of burnt-out profs rehashing canned
lectures in front of bored students, this anti-craft-oriented wave of
curricular reform is rethinking the role of the professor in order to
sell their high-tech tools to support "wide distribution of lectures by
a few famous scholars" in "customized multimedia tools" wielded by
nonacademic technicians that "have a command of the technology" so
"creating a course might be more like producing a Hollywood film or a
video game."
13
At that juncture, however, job control truly is gone, just as
few novelists in Hollywood control what makes it on to the final movie
print and even fewer computer artists ever dictate what gets set into
code on the computer game cartridge. Film and video games are collective
arts paid for with serious money, so it is unlikely that the individual
performance art of university teaching would cash out any differently
than the crafts behind major movies or giant games.
Up to this point, many online teaching projects work in the opposite register: small-scale, handicraft production for local use, not global exchange. Often one instructor maps his or her existing courses over to a website, generates computer-animated overheads, or organizes multimedia demonstrations to enliven traditional contact-style teaching and/or to experiment with asynchronous learning interactions. The material still mostly is a "home-made" production for "on-campus" circulation through "in-house" means of student consumption or "on-site" centers of knowledge accumulation. These applications are pitched to serve particular groups by professionals who know their needs and expectations in much more detail.
None of these expectations, however, are insurmountable obstacles in changing the nature of online learning. Working in new registers of medium-scale, team production or large-scale, corporate production undoubtedly can transform the current understandings of job control, working conditions, and career development shared by many academics toiling away in contemporary research universities. The development of disciplinary-software systems, such as Mathematica, Web CT, and Blackboard Course Info are leading to a curricular economy that is no longer one tied to handicraft work. Instead, these corporate innovations suggest that distance and distributed learning will become embedded in more factory-like, industrial organizations, involving integrated teams of labor, outside financial investors, and high-tech multi-media design in its creation and marketing.
Like radio in the 1920s or television in the 1950s,
computer-mediated communications in the 1990s have been touted, first,
as empowering, enlightening, and energizing technologies that will
remake humanity and society anew, while, second, they have also become
enmeshed in the existing circuits of corporate commodification. As
Schiller notes, "radio, for example, as did television, initially
offered enormous potential for the public's health and social benefit.
This has been squandered by the commercialism that has engulfed both
media. This is the pattern now being extended to the electronic age."
14
In keeping with the patterns Schiller documents, an Educom
report on the growing prospects for a National Learning Infrastructure
Initiative (NLII) argues the benefits of large-scale, industrial outputs
of distance learning products will be many. Most significantly, however,
is their potential "to be cost effective, dramatically reducing the two
biggest costs of the current system: faculty and physical plant."
15
This shift toward more capital-intensive, large-scale, and mass-produced forms of online learning is an expression of other equally distressing tendencies in higher education. Once the more labor-intensive, small-scale, and craft-produced model of online teaching is superceded, there are openings for more globalizing private providers of higher education to build new markets. The University of Phoenix is an excellent case in point to examine these developments.
Launched in 1976 by John Sperling, a one-time professor of
humanities at San Diego State University, the University of Phoenix and
its for-profit operations evolved out of a series of adult education
courses for police and teachers that the federal government funded to
launch an anti-juvenile delinquency campaign.
16
Now it has 42,500 students at 116 sites in 22 states including
PuertoRico and Canada as well as on-line course sites accessible
anywhere in the world that enroll over 1,500 students. Responding to the
life-long learning market of nontraditional students, University of
Phoenix is the epitome of cost control: it has a narrow practical
curriculum, a nondisciplinary structure, little library resources, no
research commitments, a flat, small central administration, and only
part-time semi-professional faculty. Moreover, it runs on a for-profit
basis; market performance, not peer review, valorizes its products.
17
The reserve armies of the downsized, underemployed, and the
nondegreed out in the post-Fordist white-collar proletariat are the
University of Phoenix's student body, while the overworked ranks of the
still employed, but underpaid or unchallenged, salatariat provide the
institution's faculty. With graduate degrees in their areas of teaching,
and with real-world jobs tied to these areas of academic expertise, the
faculty are trained to teach from a standardized set of lesson plans out
of a proprietary software package owned by the university. Some have
derided this "McEducation," but many others believe that this is what
education should be, including the AT&T School of Business, which
has used Phoenix accredited degree programs to let any AT&T employee
earn bachelor's and master's degrees in-house. In fact, June Maul, the
AT&T School of Business's development director, sums it up quite
succinctly: "our students don't want to hear about hypothetical stuff
out of a book. They want what's relevant to their real-world jobs."
18
Consequently, it is no surprise that 80 percent of students
enrolled with the University of Phoenix study business or management,
and most of the remaining fifth are in nursing, education or counseling
degree programs.
19
The enduring truth that "hypothetical stuff out of a book"
distinguishes institutions like the University of Chicago or New York
University from the University of Phoenix is lost upon audiences like
these.
Such mass production schemes for higher education reduce its
"service delivery" to "content provision" and require its learners and
teachers to turn their domestic spaces or workplaces into their campus.
The University of Phoenix, for example, expects that its online
instructors and enrollees "be computer literate and have access to their
own computer and modem equipment."
20
Thus, many instructional spaces that usually host teaching and
learning activities inside of material buildings can be dispensed with
almost entirely as both students and teachers acquire, maintain and
upgrade their own ports to the virtualized university's points of
presence on the Internet. The university provides an administrative
shell for accessing students, training teachers, credentialling
learners, and sharing knowledge through loosely coupled transitory
networks on-line. After going online in the late 1990s, the University
of Phoenix's Online Campus primarily uses the Net to "service" students,
but also makes use of itto find "professionals who are interested in
applying to teach for the University of Phoenix OnLine Program,"
especially from "business, legal, and computer professionals with
graduate degrees."
21
For the University of Phoenix, this cybernetic mediation is a
virtue, not a vice. It "offers working adults the unparalleled
convenience and flexibility of attending classes from your computer
keyboard," because with the University of Phoenix's "easy to use
software, you'll be able to join your classmates and faculty member 24
hours a day, seven days a week, from virtually anywhere you happen to be
-hotel room, airport, office, or the comfort of your own home."
22
With performative promises like these, the University of Phoenix
has grown into a fully accredited university with the largest student
body of all private universities in the United States.
The Digital Downside
Seeing the application of digital technics in university
teaching as a replay of industrial rationalization in factories, David
Noble baldly asserts that the conflict between craft-oriented and
factory-style production here is consistent and clear: "the high-tech
transformation of higher education is being initiated and implemented
from the top down, either without any student and faculty involvement in
the decision-making or despite it."
23
Yet this position is too simplistic. Not every web site is an
automated experience, not all courseware presumes the end of human
interaction in face-to-face terms, and not all administrators really
know what they want when they push for these innovations. In fact,
managerial authority on most campuses is highly diffuse, and it has been
for decades. Some administrators see digitalization as a strategy for
recentralizing authority and resources, but few of them yet have had the
vision or knowledge to be successful in this regard, especially if they
think they will save money by doing it. Therefore, Noble mostly decries
the game of greed being played out today on university campuses:
Some skeptical faculty insist what they do cannot possibly be
automated, and they are right. But it will be automated anyway, whatever
the loss in educational quality. Because education, again, is not what
all this is about; it is about making money. In short, the new
technology of education, like the automation of other industries, robs
faculty of their knowledge and skills, their control of their working
life, and, ultimately, their means of livelihood.
24
These trends might broaden, but they are not necessarily what seems to be unfolding with all online education. What is being automated often becomes so rapidly outdated, substantively and operationally, that it does not sell as well or as long as most critics believe. One class, one web page is not necessarily automation. It also can lead to a face-to-face form of "business as usual" plus a cobweb site.
The bigger issue is whether or not digitalization leads to a large-scale, automated product. Web sites can be alienating automated systems. They also might simply time shift the learning experience, create a telepresence for students and faculty to interact asynchronously, openly, and rapidly, and expand the range of documents used to support instruction with hypertext, multimedia or web content in addition to the print book or professorial lecture. Professors might design these learning relationships in ways that give them continued control over their livelihood, time, labor, and knowledge, but they are increasingly integrated as content-providers into larger production units with higher costs.
Nothing happens automatically in online education, and many more
people are needed daily to keep the technologies working, the content
accessible, and the instruction effective. It takes many more people
time and resources to teach the same number of students online, if they
do it right. If they only replay prerecorded content, then the Internet
is simply reduced to webcasting technics, which may or may not automate
instruction. This new technology of education can rob professors of
their knowledge, skills, livelihoods, while lessening their job control
and cheapening their work product. Yet, this will happen only if online
education is produced in certain ways by particular producers using
peculiar rhetorics of performance. Noble is wrong: not all online
education necessarily will always have these, and only these,
attributes, particularly if careful craft-labor practices are followed
by the faculty to keep it more quality-oriented and student-focused.
25
Most of the courses now available on the Internet are not
commodities. They are educational experiences that are purchased and
used, like Polanyi's vision of "fictitious commodities."
26
As places in time and space, work to be covered in study, or
credit acquired through effort, these distance learning classes are
divided into units of credit and provided in exchange for tuition
payments. At this time, not many of them are resold by the universities,
faculty or students, who produce and consume them, as fungible
commodities. Some are now designed, disintegrated or distilled down into
"discrete, reified, and ultimately saleable things or packages of
things,"
27
allowing many firms and some universities are developing such
courses as "factual commodities." Even these products, however, often
are quite different from most credit-bearing courses already being
taught at various times and another location than campus - or
asynchronously on the Net - inside the traditional fictitious economy of
the academy. Those new courses, like Michael Milken's UNext.com
experiments or University of Phoenix courses, are designed to be sold as
commodities, but often they are sold only to particular corporate or
institutional buyers with their own internal agendas for developing
human capital in-house.
On the one hand, this industrial reorganization of higher education as "the knowledge business" could simply become one more sphere of conquest for corporate market-building. There are 3,600 colleges and universities, for example, in the United States alone. Over 12 million FTE students are enrolled in their courses of instruction, nearly 80 percent of them claim to be doing distance education, and about 40 percent claim to be teaching fully online classes. If every department, all libraries, each dormitory, every student center, all classrooms, each faculty office, not to mention administrative and support personnel, had personal computers installed at concentrations approaching one per student or one per faculty member, then millions of new product units will be sold, installed, and serviced. Being rational entrepreneurs, all of the world's computer builders, software packagers, and network installers are pursuing this goal by exerting tremendous pressure on colleges and universities to crack open their campuses to more high-technology instruction so that these new markets can be made, serviced, or conquered.
On the other hand, however, online learning is meeting fierce
opposition on many campuses. Few faculty see much merit in computerized
teaching, not all students are computer literate, and many
administrators are unable to find funds to pay for all of the computers
and network connectivity that the private sector wants to sell them. The
sale of computer-mediated learning to teachers, however, is not really
where the virtual university starts and stops. Increasingly, these
technologies are being introduced by university administrations to force
open very closed, hierarchical, and bureaucratic faculty guilds to
become allegedly more open, egalitarian, and consensual venues for
collective decision-making. Online information sources, self-paced
on-line application forms, and user-oriented online records management
can take access to information out of the hands of faculty and their
departments and hand it over to managers who actually are using it to
sell educational services. Universities could retain their older, more
closed faculty-centered structures, but it is their executive leadership
that often is choosing to restructure them as looser, flatter and more
responsive entities against faculty wishes by deploying more
computer-mediated communication technology.
28
None of these changes are foreordained, and the ultimate outcome
for higher education will not match the most optimistic projections of
their backers off-campus nor attain the most pessimistic fears of their
opponents on-campus. As Gilbert claims, "existing universities must
assimilate the new communications technologies, and with the utmost
effectiveness seek to use the enormous benefits that 'the digital
revolution' promises for the advancement of teaching, learning, research
and communications generally."
29
Gilbert is right, but it is how they assimilate them, when they
do it, and who will be served when it is done that actually is what
matters most.
Nonetheless, the new division of labor in large-scale online
course design completely expresses Educause's essentially revolutionary
disregard for faculty members relying upon their small-scale,
craft-centered local styles of professing, in which they have been
authoritative "content experts" able to provide a more flexible and
productive "combination of content expert, learning-process design
expert, and process-implementation manager."
30
Something will be lost in this flexibilized quest for
performance: namely, quality, continuity, and autonomy for academic
pursuits. Universities should not forsake their historic functions,
namely, the cultivation of "a learning community in which students,
teachers, researchers and scholars share a common commitment to rational
inquiry, and through it to the creation, advancement, preservation and
application of knowledge"."
31
because no one familiar with the corporate culture of Disney,
Sony, or AT&T really can believe that they would promote free
rational inquiry in the same ways that most universities still do. The
virtual universities of this type can only produce a seemingly real
education without much enduring value.
Colleges and universities must remain more than shell buildings for the knowledge business where outsourced academic workers reskill and refresh global corporations' downsized/outsourced/overworked white-collar proletarians. If the traditional efforts of the university as a knowledge collector and preserver, interpreter of data, and protector of social values are to be preserved, one of the best ways to insure the continuation of those functions is to sustain the locally diverse, small-scale, craft-oriented context of labor that has served universities so well throughout their history. Digital technology can enhance these traditions of education if the right choices for quality are made and maintained, but those who choose this path must always guard against profit-motivated interests asserting that digital technologies can only work well on much larger scales of operation.