My uncle Evan pioneered studies of teaching machines, machines specifically designed to drill math facts or grammar. Lately, I have been thinking that every machine of any complexity is a teaching machine: a machine that makes some ways of organizing information and action and research seem natural and makes other ways seem odd. Take the New York subway: a giant machine that provides a simplified version of the city, enough for most normal purposes -- a kind of theory. One goes down from the booming, buzzing confusion of the street into a Platonic world, governed by an elegant diagram. As one masters the subway map, the city then organizes itself in one's mind around subway stops; between the stops one uses there is -- one feels -- just black space.
Also, the subway is safe because it is crowded -- and because many people are packing cell phones. People = safety. Being alone = being in danger.
An experienced rider who seldom needs to consult the diagram has a model of success in his or her head for learning the next thing in life. And that person has learned when to be confident and when to be afraid.
Posted by shea0017 at November 16, 2004 8:10 PM