Fostering Learner Agency Through Intentional Learning Design: Six Principles

The Problem of Passivity

But why are learners ill-equipped to exercise meaningful choice when it comes to how and what they learn? This chapter argues that the conventional approach to education, prevalent at both the K-12 and postsecondary levels, systematically inculcates passivity and strips individuals of the capacity for meaningful and informed choice. Rather than promote student agency and self-direction, the prevailing model remains focused on teaching, namely what “instructors” (sic) impart, not what students learn. This attitude inevitably treats learners as empty vessels to be filled rather than as fundamental co-creators of their own education. The solution is not for educators to abdicate from the responsibility of educating, however. Instead, they can and should seek to foster learner agency. Accomplishing this goal requires a coherent, systematic approach to learning design, one that embodies relevance and transparency, emphasizes active learning, integrates authentic assessment within learning, stages and scaffolds learning experiences, eschews grades, and strives to ensure equity.

Unfortunately, even those who agree that learning agency is paramount may not know how to promote it. I once met with the leader of a much-praised public charter high school that was heralded for its innovative approach to developing human skills in the curriculum, including learner agency. He was proud of the school’s reputation in this area; however, when I asked how they went about developing learner agency, he responded, “We give the students worksheets.” It should go without saying that worksheets do not enable learners to exercise agency. While this example may be particularly egregious, it is neither unique nor confined to K-12. The dominant model of education in the U.S. is characterized by inflexibility, rigidity, and a disregard for learner agency. Term structure, class schedules, assignments, and assessments all testify to the pervasive lack of meaningful choice. Most learners’ experiences in this regard stand in sharp contrast to their experiences as consumers, which, in turn, inform their expectations about higher education. In many areas of their lives, they have opportunities to create, customize, tweak, and produce (typically mediated through technology). In higher education, however, too often the expectation is that one size does, or should, fit all.

Yet higher education is not simply a type of consumer activity. In fact, the increasing tendency to treat students and their families as customers (Farrell & Davis, 2016) further cements the perception that education is just another expensive consumer good. It is something to be acquired and financed, with the student acting as buyer rather than as learner. Even the ubiquitous term “curation,” borrowed from the museum context and applied to education, suggests that learners can simply mix and match resources with limited effort. It belies the expertise and experience needed to be a successful curator, whether of art objects or learning objects. The use of the term also ignores the fact that the educational marketplace presents an inherent power differential between learners and institutions and/or profit-making enterprises. Many students, especially those who are first generation, low-income, and/or working fulltime, are no match for sophisticated marketing campaigns. Even massive open online courses (MOOCs), which began as an attempt to democratize elite education, have proven to be most attractive to students who already have degrees (ICF Monitor, 2014). Furthermore, the retention rate of most MOOCs remains low, with figures of 10% or less regularly cited (Hone & El Said, 2016). For those individuals whose primary goal is learning, DIY presents little risk. Yet, most students’ primary goal in seeking higher education is to improve their employment prospects (Fishman, 2015).

The cruelest irony is that many students, especially those who are first generation, low-income, or other “new majority,” are already doing it themselves. The status quo too often leaves them without effective guidance and with little evidence of educational efficacy. Perhaps as a result, many learners do not attend a single college from commencement to graduation. Instead, they swirl or churn through multiple colleges sequentially or at the same time, gaining debt and losing time (and credits) in the process (Adelman, 2006). In the years since Adelman’s analysis, the problem has only intensified as college students have become more mobile, juggling multiple work and family responsibilities and moving:

Students who leave college without credentials but with educational debt find their personal and career choices severely constrained. The consequences can be especially dire for those students who are “new majority” (e.g., those who are first generation, underrepresented, older, working, and/or part-time). Debt creates barriers to college access and completion, creating additional obstacles to those that Black and Hispanic students already face (Looney, 2021). DIY tends to work best for students who are already educated or conversant with the ways of higher education. It further privileges the privileged and disadvantages those already disadvantaged.

These realities reflect a paradox. In most respects, conventional higher education is characterized by rigidity and inflexibility. Still, in other respects, it presents students with too much choice and too little direction, from selecting institutions in the first place to choosing majors, programs, and courses once enrolled. Too much choice can be overwhelming when there is no clear way for the choosers (i.e., the learners) to distinguish among the options. For first-generation college and other new majority students, this type of DIY can have catastrophic consequences. More structured pathways offer an attempt to rectify the situation: