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Should Teachers Be Excited about “Neural Synchrony”?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

This blog — and this company — exist to give good advice to everyone who cares about learning and teaching.

A futuristic drawing of two heads facing each other, with dramatic lines showing extensive and expansive thinking

To accomplish that mission, we rely — as much as possible — on solid research.

An important part of our mission: to warn against bad advice. And, of course, we’re especially worried about people who give that bad advice with the label “All The Research Shows…”

So:

No, learning styles are not a thing.

No, Brain Gym doesn’t do anything special for your brain.

And no, “brain food” shouldn’t really grab your attention.

Like Celine Dion’s heart, the list could go on and on.

The Potential Joys of “Synchrony”

In recent years, I’ve seen an increasing number of claims about the importance of “neural synchrony.”

The claim sounds something like this:

“When students are working effectively together in groups, we see an increased level of neural synchrony among them.”

The technical definition of neural synchrony is complicated enough to stun a badger, but sounds more-or-less like what you think it would be: “neural networks in different people firing in ways that kinda rhyme.”

The good news about “neural synchrony” is that … well … it’s good. Right? I mean, it SOUNDS really good.

If my neurons are firing in ways that align with my students’ neurons, we can reasonably assume that something special and good is happening. Can’t we?

Before I answer that question, I want to back up a step and talk about the difference between psychology and neuroscience. (I promise: I’ll get back to all those synchronous neurons in a few paragraphs.)

Grab a Scalpal, or Grab a Quiz

As teachers and school leaders, we’re really interested in “stuff going on inside students’ heads.”

We have — to oversimplify things a lot — two basic academic approaches to studying “stuff inside the head.”

We might think like a biologist, and study all the damp and sticky stuff: neurons, and the pre-frontal cortex, and neurotransmitters, and blood flow, and the amygdala, and so forth.

We call this field neuroscience.

Neuroscience often requires gloves and scalpels, and occasionally fMRI and EEG gizmos.

Or, we might focus on mental function, and study things like attention, or memory, or motivation, or learning, or critical thinking, or curiosity.

We call this field psychology.

All of those mental functions result from something biological (studied by “neuroscience”), but we can study them without putting on gloves and grabbing a scalpel.

So, I might give my students a retrieval practice quiz and then measure how much they remembered a week later. This research involves psychology (I measured “remembering”) but not neuroscience (I didn’t look at biological stuff).

Here’s why we care: “neural synchrony” lies squarely in the world of neuroscience. We’re talking biology here.

The Charms, and Perils, of Neuro-Advice

Why does the difference between psychology and neuroscience matter? Here goes:

We live in a cultural moment when people REALLY CARE about neuroscience. If you want to get people excited about whatever you’re saying, throw the word “brain” into your title.

I mean, if eating blueberries benefits the brain, then we should all eat blueberries! Because: brain!! (Caveat: I don’t know of any special brain benefits to eating blueberries.)

For this reason, I assume, people seem to have gotten very excited about the topic of “neural synchony.”

Alas, our cultural fascination with neuroscience leads us to a willingness…even an eagerness…to believe neuro-guidance MUST be true.

If a teaching strategy helps my brain synchronize with my students’ brains, it must be gold standard. No?

No.

The ever-wise Pedro de Bruyckere has recently written about a study looking at “neural synchrony” between parents and children.

This study gets a bit complicated because it combines neuroscience (“neural synchrony”) with psychology (“attachment theory”).

But the headlines should force us to reconsider our all-too-easy assumption that “neural synchrony” must be a good thing.

Why?

Because: mothers who have a good enough relationship with their child (“secure attachment”) show LESS neural synchrony than those who have a difficult relationship with their child (“insecure attachment”).

Yes: in this one study, increased neural synchrony correlates with decreased quality of parent-child relationship.

De Bruyckere quotes the press release describing the study:

“Increased brain-to-brain synchrony may reflect a neural compensation mechanism to overcome otherwise less attuned interaction elements.” (emphasis added)

In brief, in this research, “neural synchony” doesn’t show that upliftingly good brain things are happening; it shows a compensation strategy for difficulties.

To be clear, I think it’s entirely possible that brain synchrony might — under other circumstances — reveal basically good things.

But we shouldn’t assume that “more neural synchrony” = “more good stuff.”

The Bigger Picture

Longtime readers will recognize a theme here.

Over and over (and over) again, teachers get neuroscience-flavored advice — advice that sounds really persuasive because it’s got brainy words attached.

Teach this way because oxytocin!

Start your lessons this way because amygdala!!

Schools should do this because neuroplasticity!!!

In every case, neuroscience research might make a teaching strategy plausible. But — and this is a really important point — we have to test the advice with actual students in actual classrooms first.

That classroom research will almost always be psychology (memory, attention, motivation) not neuroscience (neuron, fMRI, prefrontal cortex, EEG, dopamine).

So: should we be excited when we read about neural synchrony?

Only if the teaching advice that follows has been tested in classrooms first.

For teachers, neuroscience research is fascinating; psychology research is useful.

Improving Multiple-Choice Questions: A Thought-Provoking Pause
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Many teachers carry strong ambivalence about multiple-choice questions (handy abbreviation: MCQs).

On the one hand, MCQs offer the benefits of simplicity — not a small feature in our complex lives.

On the other hand, they seem altogether too cheap and surface-y to promote our goal: long-term, flexible, and useful knowledge.

If only well-designed MCQs could offer us the good stuff (“simplicty”) without the bad stuff (“merely surface learning”)…

But wait just a moment…

The Story Before the Story

As I’ve written in the past, we do have some easy strategies to improve the quality of MCQs.

One easy approach: make the alternative answers plausible.

That is: When I ask my students “Who is Laertes?”, the potential MCQ answers could be:

a) Ophelia’s brother, a foil for Hamlet

b) Bugs Bunny’s alter ego

c) My cat

d) The star of an upcoming Marvel movie

Or the answers could be

a) Ophelia’s brother, a foil for Hamlet

b) Macbeth’s partner, whom he later murders

c) Othello’s advisor, who betrays him

d) Prince Hal’s companion, famous for appetite

Obviously, the first list doesn’t require the students to think hard. (My cat’s name is “Pippin,” thank you very much.) So, they won’t learn much from that MCQ.

An actor, presumably playing Hamlet, holding up a skull while standing on an all-black stageHowever, the second list provides several plausible answers. To get this question right, students have to think about various Shakespearean plays.

Because “memory is the residue of thought,” and this MCQ requires more thought, it will almost certainly result in more memory (a.k.a. “learning”).

With this example to guide us, are there other ways we might improve MCQs?

Take a Moment

A recent study explores another handy way to encourage our students to think more.

Step 1: show the MCQ — but not the potential answers;

Step 2: pause just a bit;

Step 3: okay, NOW show the answers.

In theory, students just might use that strategic pause to see if they can think of the answer on their own.

That is:

If I ask, “Who is Laertes?”

My students might think “Gosh, that’s from some Shakespeare something. Could be Othello…or, wait, I’m thinking Hamlet. That’s right…he fought against Hamlet in that swordfight. Something about a ‘palpable hit.’ “

When — after the pause — the students see the answers I’m offering, they can confirm the answer they started with. (Or, check themselves against the other possibilities.)

In other words, this strategy offers yet another way to prompt students to think.

Clearly this idea makes sense in theory; does it work in practice?

From Esperanto to Swahili

The research team tested this question with word pairs: either Dutch-Esperanto, or Dutch-Swahili.

In addition to all the research techniques we like to see, this team added two not-altogether-common steps.

First: they ran four different experiments — not just one. In this way, they were able to explore nuances and details to build up a more-complete-than-usual picture.

Second: they tested the students’ memory of those word pairs several days later.

Researchers often assess “learning” by retesting after several minutes, or an hour. Because this team waited a few days, they’re giving us a more plausible reason to believe that students did (or did not) “learn.”

So, what did the researchers and their extra-admirable methods find?

Conclusion #1: the wait just a bit strategy worked.

That is: students remembered more word pairs when they had to wait to see the possible answers than when they didn’t.

Conclusion #2: the benefit came from effortful thinking.

Students who used the pause to try to recall the word pair remembered more pairs than those who just waited for the potential answers to show up.

Conclusion #3: the “make the alternative answers plausible” strategy still works.

This team re-tested the strategy explained above. Sure enough, making the distractors plausible prompts students think harder. And, therefore, they remember more.

It’s almost hard to believe that such a simple strategy could help … but these four studies offer good support for that conclusion.

TL;DR

If you want to have your students learn more from multiple-choice questions, build in a short pause between the question and the possible answers.

And, encourage your students to think during that pause: what will the right answer be?

The more thinking, the more learning.


 

van den Broek, G. S., Gerritsen, S. L., Oomen, I. T., Velthoven, E., van Boxtel, F. H., Kester, L., & van Gog, T. (2023). Optimizing multiple-choice questions for retrieval practice: Delayed display of answer alternatives enhances vocabulary learning. Journal of Educational Psychology.

Insight into a Bright Mind by Nicole Tetreault
Erik Jahner, PhD
Erik Jahner, PhD

brightmindInsight into a Bright Mind: A Neuroscientist’s Personal Stories of Unique Thinking is a profoundly personal book, authored by Nicole Tetreault who finds neuroscience deeply meaningful on a personal level, shaping her understanding of herself and the world around her. The book is a neuroscience-informed exploration of her own personal reflections as an individual who is twice exceptional, recounting experiences with teachers, peers, and her children and interpreting the often-misunderstood lives of other exceptional individuals. The narrative reveals how the author’s early encounters with neuroscience have been intricately woven into a deeper understanding of herself, transforming the book into a piece of literature rather than mere information. You will be introduced to her personal experience from running, to Barbie, mathematics, and coloring with her mother. You will experience her pain, frustration, and joy. This emotionally evocative narrative not only ignites curiosity but also prompts introspection into one’s own development and story.

The book excels in translating neuroscience into culturally relevant ideas including autism, giftedness, gender, intelligence, and creativity just to name a few. This is an example of how neuroscience can enrich our understanding of ourselves and others beyond appreciating biology alone. Crafted with aesthetic expertise, each paragraph is not only enjoyable to read but also brims with a fascinating array of information about the brain.

Prior to reading this book, I had assumed that the topic might not interest me, deeming it too specialized and applicable only to a niche audience. However, the book defies these expectations by delving into the stories of exceptional minds and brains, shedding light on what they can reveal about ourselves and our interactions. Celebrating diversity, it aims to elucidate and dispel misconceptions that arise when attempting to confine individuals into narrow categories.

Unlike typical neuroscience for the layperson or confessions from a research bench that require diligent study and note-taking, this book seamlessly integrates neuroscience into an exploratory narrative, leaving readers eager for more. While packed with neuroscience, the text remains accessible due to the author’s adept translation and incorporation into an engaging writing style.

Each chapter within the book serves as a compelling essay into the exceptional experiences and the unique nature of each brain which defies categorization. The initial chapters provide a solid foundation in neuroscience, dispelling common myths and the development of the brain, showcasing its uniqueness akin to a snowflake and a development that is equally complex as it unfolds and interacts with our world. Subsequent chapters delve into the intellectual, personal, and sensory experiences of gifted individuals, offering readers a profound appreciation for their exceptional perspective. As the narrative progresses, emotions and attention are explored in depth, each chapter contributing to a deeper understanding and enjoyment of the subject.

We then see an intriguing exploration of neurological uniqueness beyond descriptions of autism spectrum to enlighten the reader with a deeper more appreciative understanding of some of the differences that get lumped together into some diagnoses. We then get a surprising connection between the brain and the gut that is sure to only further tantalize your curiosity and expand your dinner conversations. Moreover, the book offers invaluable advice for parents throughout, presenting alternative perspectives on situations that may initially seem discouraging from a child’s developmental standpoint. It not only encourages parents to embrace their child’s unique abilities but also offers insights into how these abilities may not always align with the development of other skills. The lesson offered is clear. Help your child identify their strengths, those strengths may often be hidden by asynchronous development, and then foster an environment with love and informed support to help your child explore their potentials. The last chapter gives some concrete steps you will enjoy putting into practice as a parent or teacher.

Furthermore, Insight into a Bright Mind transcends being merely informative, emerging as a creative masterpiece in its own right. I believe this book hits a specific area where neuroscience, culture, and creativity meet. Few authors have been able to achieve this, and I would place this book in the realm of Oliver Sacks with a pinch of Walt Whitman or Maya Angelou bringing together science, story-telling, and poetry.  Elegantly structured and vividly written, it tantalizes the senses, resembling a captivating novel as readers delve into the author’s mind and, in turn, reflect on their own.

Just In Case: Improving Online Learning
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

We teachers benefit A LOT from research-based guidance, but we do have to acknowledge a few drawbacks:

We can easily find LOTS of contradictory studies out there — so confusing!

The students or curriculum being researched might not be a good match for our own — so puzzling!

And

Research takes a long time — so frustrating!

In other words: we REALLY needed advice about online teaching during the pandemic-related Zoominess. But — because “research takes a long time” — we just didn’t have lots of relevant studies to guide us.

Middle schooler wearing headphones and doing work in front of her laptop at a desk

Of course, we’re now starting to get those studies we needed a few years ago: better now than never, I say.

To be sure, few of us hope to return to full-time online teaching. But:

Some people do this work for a living (I have a friend who devotes herself to this work).

Some school districts use Zoom during snow storms (or eclipses).

Sometimes, online teaching is just practically required. I recently led a 2 hour PD workshop in Singapore…while I was in London.

So, we still benefit from learning about this online teaching research — even if most of us hope we’ll use it only rarely.

What useful nuggets have come to the surface?

Defeating the Blahs

If you’ve taught online, you know how quickly the blahs set in.

No matter how interesting our content or how lively our presentation, the students quickly settle into polite apathy.

Screens wink off.

We can practically SEE the mind-wandering in thought bubbles above our students’ heads.

Is there anything we can do to counteract this seemingly inevitable lethargy?

A research team in Germany set out to investigate this question.

Specifically, they wanted to know if “interaction-enhanced online teaching” could overcome the blahs.

What, you ask, is “interaction-enhanced online teaching,” exactly?

The researchers used several interactive techniques:

Students in this group kept their cameras on,

answered questions at random times during the lecture,

and took a quiz on the material at the conclusion of the lecture.

So, did these changes help?

The Envelopes, Please…

To answer this question, researchers focused much less on students’ learning and much more on the students attention. Specifically, they focused on a sub-component of attention called “alertness.”

This subcomponent means exactly what you think it does: “how much physiological energy is the student experiencing at this moment?” (Teachers typically face two “alertness” problems: too much [students running around with scissors] or too little [students falling asleep, with or without scissors].)

To track alertness, the research team measured all sorts of variables: the students’ heartbeat, the amount of cortisol in their saliva, and their own self-ratings.

So, did always-on cameras and random questions affect these variables? Specifically, did these students show higher alertness levels than others who simply watched the lecture — without the alertness bells-n-whistles?

The short answer is: yup.

Because those variables (heart rate, cortisol) are frankly rather obscure, it probably doesn’t help to rattle off the numbers. (You can check them out in the study itself.)

But the trends are clear: all that alertness enhancing did the trick. Students had more energy during the online presentation.

Classroom Implications

In my view, this study has lots going for it.

First, its recommendations just make sense.

Both daily experience and a decade or so of research shows that students who have to pay attention — they might have to answer a question soon! — remain alert and learn more.

Second, its recommendations are easy to enact. While creating random questions and post-class retrieval practice might take some additional effort, doing so isn’t an enormous task.

The topic of “keeping the camera on” creates controversy in some places — and I can imagine circumstances where it’s not appropriate. But I suspect in most cases, a “camera on” policy is an entirely reasonable baseline.

Third, this “interaction enhancing” improves alertness — and probably helps students learn more.

The study’s authors are quite cautious about this claim; for technical reasons, it’s difficult to measure “learning” in this research paradigm.

But they found that increased alertness correlated with more learning. And: it certainly makes sense that students who pay attention learn more.

TL;DR

If we must teach online, we’ve got a few simple strategies to promote student alertness:

If we ask students to keep their cameras on, answer questions every now and then, and undertake retrieval practices exercises…

…they pay more attention, and probably learn more.

 


A Technical Footnote about Vocabulary

In the field of psychology, vocabulary can get tricky. We often have several words to describe more-or-less the same psychological concept. (E.g.: “the testing effect” and “retrieval practice.”)

This thing that I’m calling “alertness” is — in fact — often called “alertness”: so I’m not using an incorrect word. But it’s more often called “arousal”; this research team uses that word in their study.

Now, I’m a high-school teacher — so I do not like that word; as the kids say, “it squicks me out.”

So, in this blog post, I’ve preferred the word “alertness.” If you read the study its based on, you’ll see the other a-word.


Gellisch, M., Morosan-Puopolo, G., Wolf, O. T., Moser, D. A., Zaehres, H., & Brand-Saberi, B. (2023). Interactive teaching enhances students’ physiological arousal during online learning. Annals of Anatomy-Anatomischer Anzeiger247, 152050.

Graphic Disorganizers; or, When Should Teachers Decorate Handouts?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Teachers regularly face competing goals. For instance:

On the one hand — obviously — we want our students to learn.

And, on the other hand, we equally obviously want them to feel safe, comfortable, at home.

To accomplish that second goal, we might decorate our classrooms. The more adorable cat photos, inspirational posters, and familiar art work, the homier the classroom will feel.

A colorful bar graph, showing 20%, 40%, 60%,etc.

But here’s the problem: what if all that decoration (in pursuit of goal #2) interferes with goal #1?

What if decorations inhibit learning?

The Story so Far

I’ve written about this topic a fair amount, and the story so far gives us reason to concentrate on that question.

So: do decorations get in the way of learning? According to this study: yes.

Is this a problem for all age groups? Research done by this team suggests: yes.

When I showed teachers all this research, they often raised a perfectly plausible doubt:

Don’t students get used to the decorations? According to this recent study: nope.

Given these studies (and many others), I think we’ve got a compelling narrative encouraging our profession to rethink decoration. While I don’t think that classrooms should be sterile fields … I do worry we’ve gone substantially too far down the “let’s decorate!” road.

“I’ve Still Got Questions”

Even with this research pool, I think teachers can reasonably ask for more information. Specifically: “what counts as a decoration?”

I mean: is an anchor chart decration?

How about a graphic organizer?

A striking picture added to a handout? (If they’re answering questions about weather, why would it be bad to have a picture of a thunderstorm on the handout?)

An anchor chart might be “decorative.” But, if students use it to get their math work done, doesn’t it count as something other than a “decoration”?

In other words: if I take down an anchor chart, won’t my students learn less?

Because practically everything in the world can be made prettier, we’ve got an almost infinite number of things that might be decorated. (I’ve done some work at a primary school that has arrows embedded in the floor: arrows pointing to, say, Beijing or Cairo or Los Angeles. Does that count as “decoration”?)

For this reason, research to explore this question gets super detailed. But if we find enough detailed examples that more-or-less resemble our own classroom specifics, we can start to credit a “research-informed” answer.

Graphic Disorganizer?

A friend recently pointed me to a study about reading bar graphs.

This research team wanted to know if “decorated” bar graphs make learning harder for students in kindergarten, and in 1st and 2nd grade.

So, if a bar graph shows the number of gloves in the lost and found box each week, should the bar representing that number…

Be decorated with little glove icons?

Or, should it be filled in with stripes?

How about dots?

This study in fact incorporates four separate experiments; the researchers keep repeating their basic paradigm and modifying a variable or two. For this reason, they can measure quite precisely the problems and the factors that cause them.

And — as you remember — they’re working with students in three different grades. So: they’ve got LOTS of data to report…

The Headlines, Please…

Rather than over-decorate this blog post with a granular description, I’ll hit a few telling highlights.

First: iconic decorations inhibit learning.

That is: little gloves on the bar graph made it harder for students to learn to read those graphs correctly.

Honestly, this result doesn’t surprise me. Gloves are concrete and familiar, whereas bar graphs represent more abstract concepts. No wonder the little tykes get confused.

Second: stripes and dots also inhibit learning.

Once again, the students tend to count the objects contained within the bar — even little dots! — instead of the observing the height of the bar

This finding did surprise me a bit more. I wasn’t surprised that young learners focus on concrete objects (gloves, trees), but am intrigued to discover they also want to count abstract objects (lines, dots) within the bar.

Third: age matters.

That is: 1st graders did better than kindergarteners. And, 2nd graders better than first graders.

On the one hand, this result makes good sense. As we get older, we get better at understanding more abstract concepts, and at controlling attention.

On the other hand, this finding points to an unfortunate irony. Our profession tends to emphasize decoration in classrooms for younger students.

In other words: we decorate most where decoration might do the most harm! (As a high-school teacher, I never got any instructions about decoration, and was never evaluated on it.)

In Brief

We teachers certainly might be tempted to make our environments as welcoming — even festive! — as possible.

And yet, we’ve got a larger (and larger) pool of research pointing out the distraction in all that decoration.

This concern goes beyond — say — adorable dolphin photos on the wall, or uplifting quotations on waterfall posters.

In this one study, something as seemingly-harmless as dots in a bar graph can interfere with our students learning.

When it comes to decorating — even worksheets and handouts — we should keep the focus on the learning.


Fisher, A. V., Godwin, K. E., & Seltman, H. (2014). Visual environment, attention allocation, and learning in young children: When too much of a good thing may be bad. Psychological science25(7), 1362-1370.

Godwin, K. E., Leroux, A. J., Seltman, H., Scupelli, P., & Fisher, A. V. (2022). Effect of Repeated Exposure to the Visual Environment on Young Children’s Attention. Cognitive Science46(2), e13093.

Kaminski, J. A., & Sloutsky, V. M. (2013). Extraneous perceptual information interferes with children’s acquisition of mathematical knowledge. Journal of Educational Psychology105(2), 351.