Our thoughts on virtual higher learning

Over the past month or so it’s begun to sink into my thick skull that life after Covid-19 (which may not after all arrive for many months yet) is not going to be like it was before, nor is it just going to be like-before-with-masks, or like-before-with-masks-and-without-hugs. I’m afraid it’s going to be fundamentally different, for a very long time and perhaps permanently.

I’m skeptical that brick-and-mortar businesses like bookstores and diners and shopping malls will ever be restored to anything like their pre-pandemic levels. Many of the few remaining Luddites who felt uncomfortable buying things that they couldn’t first see and touch will have gotten over that discomfort—and gotten used to the ease of ordered underwear and light bulbs from their living room couches. Many people will discover that what they cook in their kitchen is actually pretty damn good, and what they were eating in restaurants tastes even better in the safety of their homes.

A particular aspect of American life and culture that I’ve been wondering about is the university. What will become of the great state and private campuses, campuses that become small (or not so small) cities every year from September to May? What will become of the dining halls, the dormitories, the auditoriums? The gigantic high-rise libraries that students have already started to use mainly as wi-fi hotspots with comfy chairs? What will become of the university community—the clubs and cafes and apartment blocks peopled with students and staff and faculty? I grew up in university towns (Urbana, Illinois, and Denton, Texas), and what made those towns worth living in were all the smart, weird, provocative, eccentric, devoted people who arrived there from all over the country and all over the world.

Austin without UT-Austin would just be a big, congested Texas city with a lot of software engineers and mostly Republican state legislators. Now there’s a horrifying thought.

But more importantly, what will become of the classrooms, and of the activity that normally takes place within them?

There is noise around town is that the enormous University of Texas campus will open with live classes in the fall, and close before Thanksgiving, with any post-Thanksgiving classes and tests taking place virtually. I hope that can happen, and happen safely, but I think it’s an optimistic scenario, considering where the country and the state are at right now. Texas now stands at roughly 1,000 new cases and 25 deaths per day, according to the New York Times. The rate of new cases has started to fall in just the past few days, but then we don’t yet know the effects of the current “reopening.” And the idea of bringing massive numbers of young people from all over the world together here in September could be a recipe for disaster.

If the regents deem it safe enough and can solve (or explain away) difficult problems such as housing tens of thousands of students in a safe, healthy way, will the students come back? Will their parents who are footing the bill let them?

I think many students want to come back. I audited an undergraduate French language course that, like classes in general, was live up through Spring break, and then taught through Zoom for the remainder of the semester. UT, and my instructor, did an impressive job of switching to virtual teaching midway through the semester. The technology, and its application, worked pretty damn well. The material was the same, the homework was the same, the lectures and lesson plans were the same, even the “breakouts” where students are grouped in twos or threes within the class for a few minutes for discussion or exercises were the same. Or perhaps even better, since Zoom created the breakout groups automatically, obviating the somewhat awkward process of letting students form their own.  Yet when the teacher asked the students one day how they liked virtual learning as opposed to the old way, the response was mostly negative. The verb “suck” was used liberally. Also the attendance, which had been close to full before, dropped sharply after Zoom was instituted. Several factors contributed to the drop in attendance, but why wouldn’t class attendance be higher when all you have to do is roll out of (or just sit up in) bed to join in?  I think the reason is that live classes are for some reason just more fun.

But who knows what students will do, especially if UT offers virtual attendance as an alternative to anyone who wants it? Just think how much cheaper a degree from a first-class university would be if you didn’t have to leave home to acquire it.

My fear is that colleges and universities will die off and combine, and students will take advantage of virtual learning to create their own degree plans by picking and choosing the best (or cheapest or most convenient) classes and lecturers from a variety of schools. (Actually, as I write this, I have to admit that the idea makes a lot of sense.)

But does it really matter? Apart from laboratory or performing-arts classes, is there any essential value of physical proximity when people are just talking? Couldn’t Socrates have done his thing by himself under the olive tree, with a good wi-fi connection (note to self for future blog post)?

Of the three teachers I talked to about this half-live, half-virtual Spring 2020 semester, two felt that there was a connection made with and between the students in the first days of class. That connection carried over into the later, virtual class and helped to keep the students engaged. They didn’t think it was likely that a fresh new class starting out on Zoom would have that kind of connection.

As for me, there’s no question about it. (I’m not a teacher, by the way, and I’m technically not even a student. I’m just an auditor—the weird old guy who goes to class not because he needs the credits but because he actually enjoys it.) Zoom is just not the same, and it never will be. There is an excitement, a shared enjoyment of being in a room and having a discussion with smart people, and a teacher who knows her or his stuff and is passionate about it. If it’s Zoom or nothing then I will probably Zoom. But something important will be lost.

And if the UT campus is converted into the world’s biggest Amazon distribution center, or a parking lot, then Austin might not be worth living in any more. Do you have any idea how hot it gets down here?