Law faculties and law professors across the country are struggling with the impact on classroom dynamics of students using laptop computers in their classrooms. I suppose the dilemma also presents itself to undergraduate and high school faculty. What’s the problem? It’s simply that classroom laptop computer use not only gives students the opportunity to take legible notes, view classroom graphics, access legal materials on-line, and use computational software, it also gives students a platform for playing games, visiting on-line stores, placing bets, sending instant messages, and engaging in other activities unrelated to the class activities.
The issue found national attention earlier this week when USA today
reported a story about a law professor at the University of Memphis who banned laptop computers from her classroom because she thinks they are a distraction. She explained that her “main concern” was transcription by students of “every word” she was saying. She asserts that computers “interfere with making eye contact.”
The students collected signatures and filed a complaint with the American Bar Association, which dismissed the complaint. Though the story does not specifically say so, it appears that the law school administration left the decision in place as within the discretion of the faculty member. At least one student claimed that if the ban remains in place, he must leave because he cannot read his hand-written notes.
Students have been using laptop computers in my classes for at least five years. I’ve become accustomed to their presence, so my reaction to the story reflects more than a few discussions and a good deal of thought. Five things come to mind.
First, faculty have the academic freedom to ban laptops, just as they have the academic freedom to encourage their use or to be indifferent to their presence. Faculty have the academic freedom to use or not use Powerpoint slides. Academic freedom permits faculty to drone on in lecture mode without using any visual props. Faculty can use chalk to draw unending circles on blackboards. Faculty can call on students, wait for volunteers, select specific students in advance to be responsible for classroom discussions (leaving the other students “off the hook”), assign 5 pages of reading or 50 pages of reading for each class session, and make all sorts of other choices. Some faculty sit while teaching. Others stand. Some pace. Some are animated. The problem with requiring a faculty member to permit classroom laptop use is no different from the problem of prohibiting faculty from permitting their use: it interferes with the faculty member’s exercise of professional judgment on what is or is not appropriate for the course.
Second, faculty have a professional obligation to do what needs to be done so that their students learn and to avoid doing things that interfere with learning. Most institutions impose only the barest minimum of requirements. Faculty, even tenured faculty, can be dismissed for chronic unexcused absence or tardiness, for teaching while inebriated, and for demonstrating serious lack of knowledge of the subject matter. Aside from bad behavior, such as striking students or using inappropriate language, there are few, if any, disciplinary constraints on faculty teaching. Use of chalk or failure to use chalk, choosing to lecture or question students, deciding whether students are permitted to use laptops, or even prohibiting students from taking notes for the first part of each class (an experiment that a colleague of mine tried and that
strongly tempted me) are all within the scope of the teacher’s professional discretion, and no matter which way the professor resolves the matter, it does not rise to a level justifying discipline or dismissal.
Third, as a general proposition, as long as students know what a particular faculty member requires and prohibits, they can choose to enroll in that professor’s course or avoid it. There are, however, several situations in which students don’t have that choice. One arises when a required course is taught only by one professor. Another exists if all faculty teaching a course share the same philosophy on matters such as laptop use. Yet another circumstance, and an important one, are first-year courses, to which students are assigned before they arrive without having a choice as to which section of a course they will take. Thus, although students can “vote with their feet” in many situations, in others they are at the mercy of faculty whose courses they cannot avoid. Whether the students’ plight as a “captive audience” ought to constrain faculty choice as a matter of common sense is debatable. Surely there is no enforceable principle that reduces faculty discretion in those situations. It appears from the story that the students who were told not to bring laptops to class are first-year students assigned to their course section, but that may not necessarily be the case.
Fourth, decisions with respect to the student use of laptops ought to be made after the issue is studied thoroughly. Professional educators have done studies on student laptop use and on techniques to minimize the disadvantages while maximizing the advantages. For many of the decisions that law professors must make when shaping their courses, they have their experiences as students, good or bad, on which to draw. They have experienced some things from both sides of the podium. They have been students in courses where they were called on by the professor and in classes where the faculty relied on volunteers. They have seen good and bad use of chalk on blackboard. They have heard droning lecturers, entertaining raconteurs, animated teachers, and motionless robots. But most law faculty have not sat in law school courses as students using laptops or viewing Powerpoint slides. Many have seen good and bad Powerpoint presentations. Good teaching requires understanding, and when possible, experiencing the student’s perspective. The story about the Memphis laptop ban doesn’t reveal whether any such exploration of the matter took place.
Fifth, many law faculty dislike technology. They shy away from using clickers, Powerpoint slides, Blackboard classrooms, and providing materials on-line in digital formats. The reasons vary. Some are afraid of appearing to be inept in front of their students if they try to use it. Some are unwilling to change because it requires work. Some consider themselves incapable of moving beyond where they are. Ironically, students appreciate faculty efforts to modernize and are very tolerant of shaky faculty technology learning curves. At least, that was my experience. Law faculty are bright and capable, and ought not fool themselves into thinking they cannot learn to use the technology. As for those avoiding the effort, this isn’t the time to launch into that topic.
When I put these five trains of thought together, I reach the conclusion that the decision to prohibit student use of laptops in the classroom isn’t about distraction, eye contact, and transcriptions but is about something else. Why? Because all three rationales fall apart when viewed against the backdrop of a pre-digital classroom.
Consider distraction. Yes, laptops can be distractions if they are being used in an inappropriate manner. Reports of students gambling on-line, shopping, using instant messengers, reading emails, and playing games have come in from every corner of the country. Yet how does this differ from the days when students played bingo, passed notes, did crossword puzzles, circulated sports betting pool sheets, and played cards? The standard response is that laptop use in the classroom interferes with other students because they can see what’s on the screen. Well, does the crossword puzzle contest or the bingo game disturb fewer students? What about the passing of notes? What does that do to the student sitting between the note communicators, as I was in a class years ago? One note, left open, commented on the size of an engagement ring newly worn by a classmate. Yes, it seems that engagement rings can be distracting. Should they be banned? What about the student who deliberately arrives, dressed in an attention-getting fashion, a few minutes after class begins? Should the doors be locked when class begins? It’s been done but the benefits pale in comparison to the disadvantages.
It ought not be difficult to understand that it’s not the laptop, it’s the inattentive, unprofessional, and immature students who cause distractions. There are ways of dealing with distractions generally without pretending that freezing one’s class in the 1970s somehow ends distraction. If the distraction is serious, faculty ought to intervene. I have done so. So, too, have many other law professors. Dealing with situations as they arise makes more sense than issuing blanket prohibitions that may be simple and easy to enforce but that in the long run are counterproductive. The laptop prohibition surely creates problems for students with learning challenges or other limitations that are accommodated by technology.
Consider the eye-contact issue. Sorry for this awful pun, but I just don’t see it. Students’ heads are above their laptops, so they can see the professor. Students without laptops can stare at their book, at other students, or out the window. There’s far more of an eye contact problem when students come in with the baseball caps pulled low over their foreheads. Why blame the laptop use for eye-contact issues that pre-date laptops?
Consider the transcripton concern. Long before there were laptops, some students tried to write down every word. Some succeeded. Years ago, a former court reporter showed me a verbatim transcript of one of my classes in which she had been enrolled. She knew it was not the best way to learn, but for her it was habit. Laptops may makes it easier to transcribe every word, though that is not a certainty, but laptops are not the reason students seek to transcribe every word.
There are ways to prevent student laptop use from causing distractions. Even though it would be nice if it didn’t need to be done, students can be told what constitutes appropriate use of laptops in the classroom and what the consequences will be for causing distractions. It might make sense to lower the grade of a student who causes a distraction because the student is not properly participating in the class. The consequences for two or three such incidents ought to send a powerful message. Some faculty have staff or research assistants make unannounced visits to patrol the classroom and identify students who are not doing class work. Some faculty walk around the room.
The key, though, is to keep the students so busy with the class that they don’t have time to play games or shop on-line during class. Calling on students at random, with penalties for lack of preparation or contribution, keeps students alert and attentive. Using clickers leaves students wondering when all of them will be put on the spot, especially if they don’t know that their response to a particular clicker question will count toward their grade until it is presented to them. Moving through the material at a brisk pace energizes the environment. Using visuals, such as pictures related to a case, keeps students focused.
If eye contact is desired, make it. I look at my students. They look at me. They look because they never know what’s going to happen next and they don’t want to miss it.
Breaking students of the transcription goal requires a teaching approach that proves to the students that transcription isn't worth the effort. Examinations that reward memorization and regurgitation will encourage transcription efforts. Examinations and semester exercises that reward original thinking and that discount the words spoken in the classroom discourage transcription, provided this is explained to the students in no uncertain terms at the beginning of the course and reinforced throughout the semester by quizzes, exercises, dialogue, and other teaching techniques that demonstrate the relative uselessness of repetition and the value of problem solving and problem prevention.
So, if the distraction, eye contact, and transcription rationales aren’t all that compelling, what is the dislike of laptops all about? I think it is about control. It’s tough to be in control of a classroom if the students are more experienced and familiar with using laptops in a classroom than the professor is. The desire to stay with what is comfortable and fear of the unknown can combine to block progress.
The issue isn’t laptops. It’s student inattention. In many instances, faculty contribute to the problem. A student who is in a course because it is required, or because it is on a bar examination, is more likely to let his or her mind wander or to play games unless some more compelling reason exists to pay attention. Thus, selecting several students to be responsible for discussion on a particular day invites other students to tune out. I’ve seen this when observing other professors’ classes. Summarizing the discussion after engaging in dialogue with a selected student merely makes it easier for the tuned out student to hit ALT-TAB, type in the “bottom line” and return to instant messaging, shopping, or game playing while the professor engages in dialogue with another selected students. Faculty whose courses lack liveliness, or follow the previous year’s notes, are tempting students to find other things to do during class time. I’m not saying that all student inattention can be attributed to ineffective teaching, but enough of it is so attributable that faculty who encounter substantial numbers of inattentive students ought ask themselves what they can do to change the classroom atmosphere. If it’s just one or two students, then it’s probably not the professor, but then it’s simply a matter of pulling those students aside privately and laying down the law (ouch, another bad one, sorry).
One goal of legal education is to teach future lawyers that professionals need to be responsible. Teaching law students to be responsible requires more than denying them the opportunity to be irresponsible. It requires guiding them around the tempting distractions. If law faculty become too controlling, how are the students going to fend for themselves after graduation when the faculty isn’t there to control things for them?
