Johnny Depp Kills Disney Pirates

Having just returned from Disneyland, I have been thinking about the updated Pirates of the Caribbean ride that now features Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow. While Disney surely added Capt. Jack to the ride to update it and increase audience engagement, in discussing it with my wife, it became clear to us that the addition actually reduces the narrative power and, thus, the overall engagement and enjoyment of the ride.

Timelessness

What makes good narrative great is when it is imbued with a sense of timelessness. While stories like Huckleberry Finn or To Kill a Mockingbird have a definite time and place, they don’t feel bound to that particular time. The characters feel fresh and real every time you read them, and the settings feel like they could exist right now in some parallel universe coexistent to our own. Before the addition of Jack Sparrow, the ride had this feeling to it. The riders filled in the details of the narrative, imagining a back story and a conclusion, projecting the motivation of each character and their ultimate fate, placing the events in an imaginary, but plausible, history. With the addition of Sparrow, all that is taken away. The narrative is forced (rather ungracefully in its repetition) upon you. You are now watching a version of a blockbuster movie, and you know the back story and the ending because it has been thrust upon you. The narrative has been appropriated, and you must comply.

Rider as a Character

Even worse is the loss of the inclusion of the riders as characters in the story. In the original ride, you become a part of the story. You are warned at the beginning that you are entering into danger, you then view the “cursed treasure,” and are then told the following:

“No fear hath ye of evil curses, says you. Ah... Properly warned, ye be, says I. Who knows when that evil curse will strike the greedy beholders of this bewitched treasure.

Perhaps you/ye knows too much. You've seen the cursed treasure. You know where it be hidden! Now pass through at your own risk. These be the last friendly words you'll here!”

You are now cursed and must face your fate. That curse brings you right into the middle of a fierce battle with cannon balls whizzing overhead, then through a burning, groaning, crumbing building, and finally between the muskets of drunken, dueling pirates. Happily, you survive all of these and leave with your secret knowledge of the treasure and your lives. All this is taken away from you in the new version. You simply watch as other characters play out other stories. The boat is little more than a floating theater seat. Pass the popcorn.

Implications for Instruction

Seeing or hearing a narrative is a powerful means of engagement. Even more powerful is direct participation in the narrative by taking on a role and/or being asked directly or indirectly to project the conclusion. People like Stephen Covey teach using great narratives. But they keep those narratives for themselves because they provide all the pieces and trot them out in each training masterfully and verbatim like an actor on a stage. While this is so much better than PowerPoint bullets, it is not as powerful as sharing the narrative with the audience, giving them a real stake in its outcome, and even trusting them to write the ending.

Unforgetable Learning: What Master Storytellers Can Teach Us About Designing Transformative Learning Experiences

This post is the story of the dissertation I didn't write, the book I would like to edit to make up for it, and how you can help.

Have you ever been channel surfing and came across a documentary about a topic that, until this pivotal moment, was of mild interest and found yourself, within 10 minutes, fully engrossed in every aspect and detail of say, the life cycle of a shrew, the mating rituals of the common slug or the travails of a nomadic Mongolian family whose camel has rejected her calf? Do you find yourself telling your co-workers the next morning with great enthusiasm about the way computer chips are manufactured or how FedEx sorts packages or how sea turtles migrate thousands of miles to the exact same beach on which they were born to lay their eggs having never visited it again in the intervening decades?

My dissertation was going to be a deep study of the structure of the most engaging, memorable documentaries designed for a general audience. I wanted to extract principles of how to engage and enthrall learners who only have a passing interest in a subject. It seemed to me that our field could learn a lot from those outside the field who had mastered this craft. Alas, I couldn't muster enough interest among my faculty and had to move on to another topic.

Master storytellers design their narrative to completely invest their audiences in their story; and audiences willingly give their rapt attention and full emotional involvement in return. I want to know how that is accomplished by the best storytellers in (at least) the following genres:

• Documentaries
• Feature Films
• Television Series
  
• Plays
• Musicals
• Dance Performances
• Poetry
• Short Stories
• Novels
• Video Games
• Role Playing Games
• Theme Park Rides

I believe much could be learned from a minute by minute analysis of the structure of some exemplars, by interviewing their creators, by interviewing their loyal audiences (or eavesdropping on their public online discussions), and by carefully studying those who experience these for the first time. I also believe that the narrative traditions, folk wisdom, and design tools of the individual genres could be mined for insight. For example, I did a minute-by-minute analysis of the NOVA episode on the Wright Brothers and found very clear and compelling structures designed to draw in and hold audiences with different levels of familiarly and interest in the topic.

I would love to serve as editor or co-editor on such a book, with chapters written by you or people you know who would be ideal candidates. I would be interested to hear from those who would like to participate or who know people who would like to submit a chapter or could recommend a publisher that would find such a book particularly interesting. Actually, I would just plain like to know what you think of the idea.

What do you think?

The Hidden Park: Great Concept, Cool Technology, Careful Narrative Design

Imagine a portable learning toolbox with these capabilities:

• GPS
  
• A digital camera
• An accelerometer

Now bring to it a conceptual framework:

• Alternative reality gaming
• Geochaching
  

What are the possibilities? What if you added a bit of story, a bit of fantasy, and loads of imagination?

You or I probably still wouldn't come up with The Hidden Park, but, luckily for us, the people at Bulpadok did. Here is a brief description from their press kit:

The adventure begins when the children receive a video call from a troll named Trutton, head of the Magical Wildlife Protection Association. Trutton explains that their park is in danger of being bulldozed by greedy developers. The kids must collect evidence to prove the existence of magical animals in their park.

The children navigate their way through the park by following a map that lets them know where the magical creatures live. Of course, Trutton’s map is magical – as they move past landmarks in the park the map tells them where to go next. The children must solve puzzles and riddles on their way to the next destination. Clues to the answers can be found on the signposts in the park.

Following Trutton’s directions, the children take photos of various landmarks. As if by magic, Trutton’s fantastical friends appear in the photos – sometimes right next to the children! The photos are stored in a gallery, so at the end of the day the children have an album of their adventure.

Very, very cool. So: Great concept. Smart, innovative people thinking outside of the box. Nifty technology. Contemporary aesthetic look and feel. That's what it takes, right? But what role did narrative design play? Narrative is clearly an element, but did it matter? Did they just hit the jackpot of a serendipitous cross over of cool technologies and a neat concept and then threw in a fun story as the frosting on the cake?

Oh, no. Not even close.

If you go to the blog of the creators of the game and look up the post titled Shaping the Story, you will see that they took the narrative element very, very seriously. These cutting edge game designers discuss Aristotle's classic three act structure, the narrative arc, and several modern storytelling theorists. Narrative design, it appears, was a central consideration of their game design, and, I would venture, central to the success of the product. These people thought long and hard about what the right narrative structure for the product should be, and have some very interesting thoughts on the mapping of a story arc to physical geography. An excerpt:

One of the really fun things about writing The Hidden Park was being able to physically map the narrative shape over the landscape. Many of the pathways that we plotted actually physically drew an arc through space. While this was satisfying at some theoretical level, it also became important for storytelling. We didn’t want people to double back over territory they had already covered and we didn’t want people to cross back over their path. The Hidden Park is a simple linear narrative and it was important for that to be reflected geographically. We wanted to create the feeling of physically moving forward through the story.

As GPS gaming evolves, it may be desirable to maintain a consistency between the shape of the narrative and its position in real space. Where a detective story leads the protagonist around in circles, a GPS mystery may literally lead the player back to where they started. Often in a story, a writer wants to revisit a particular theme and reveal something new to their audience. By requiring a player to physically return to a location, their path will trace the intricate folds and layers of sophisticated storytelling.

They go on to say that this mapping of physical space to the storytelling structure is not a hard and fast rule. But my point is to call attention to their careful consideration to the narrative structure of the product. They did their theoretical homework, and it pays off in the final product. Without a strong narrative, the product would have been gadgety cool and amusing. With the narrative, it becomes a compelling adventure that leads the player forward, as they state, "with direction and purpose."

So if we revisit the list of key features from their website, there seems to be a hidden element that didn't make the list:

• GPS
  
• A digital camera
• An accelerometer
• Alternative reality gaming
• Geochaching

and...

• ???

Go ahead, snap a photo with your iPhone and see what shows up...

Special Issue of Interactive Learning Environments Focuses on Narrative

I was recently had an article published as part of the December issue of the Interactive Learning Environments entitled "Designing video narratives to contextualize content for ESL learners: a design process case study." The issue was focused exclusively upon narrative and interactive learning environments and guest edited by Paul Brna and Rose Luckin. Below is the abstract of my article:

In this paper we discuss how the Brigham Young University Technology Assisted Language Learning Group (BYU TALL Group) develops video-based dramatic narratives to increase the amount of context we provide to English as a second language (ESL) learners. First, we discuss the problem of decontextualization in education, the contextualism alternative, and how narrative can provide crucial context. Next, using ESL instruction as a case study, we compare non-narrative video-based language models with narrative models and discuss some of the potential benefits of narrative models. We then discuss issues to consider when using narrative models, and outline a narrative-focused design and development process with particular attention to those aspects critical to creating narratives that are simultaneously pedagogically sound, aesthetically credible, and engaging for learners to watch.

Fire that (Fictitious) Employee! Unanticipated Consequences of Using Narrative in Instructional Design

I went to an interesting presentation at my local chapter of ISPI by Andrew Wolff of PriceWaterhouseCoopers. He talked about how they had recently begun using the simplest, cheapest versions of narrative and humor in their training. For example, to help their people understand the technical side of one of their businesses, they show a series of photos with audio where a guy gets a call at the end of the week that he needs to do a report on the chipset the company is selling. He is about to ignore the request and go home when his cell phone starts to talk to him. They have still drawings of a little talking cellphone, that change every ten seconds or so in an "animation," and this cell phone has a cartoon-y character voice. The talking cellphone tells the guy about the importance of the chips inside it to the business's bottom line and takes him on a tour of the factory. Or they had a confidentiality training where a story plays out where a character makes simple mistakes that leads to a major breach of security for the company. These innovations were not very expensive and didn't take much longer than a vanilla course to produce. Among the effects, the ones that stood out to me the most were:

1. With no promotion whatsoever of the new course other than word of mouth, training completion timeframes for the company went from something like 90% in the last three days before the deadline for training completion to 90%+ in the first three days the course was available.

2. In the case of the security training, partners in the firm were calling the training department in the first few days after the training was released, trying to get the (fictional) character in the training fired for her negligence.

Now you tell me some other strategy that would have led to similar outcomes. And think of what the company stands to gain by shaving three months off of the amount of time it takes for all of their people to complete required training. And imagine the employees of your company talking to each other in the halls about the great confidentiality training they just completed and how you don't want to miss it. Sounds like some kind of training department fantasy. One that I think many of us would like to be in.

Where is Emotion, Engagement, and Aesthetics in the Learning Sciences?

I am looking at the index to the The Cambridge Handbook of the Learning Sciences. I am surprised to find:

• No entry for "engagement"
  
• No entry for "aesthetics"
  
• Only 2 pages under "emotions," one of which refers to this passage:
  

  We need a better understanding of the intertwining of affective, relational, and communicative aspects of learning interactions. How do emotional responses mediate learning, and how do they emerge from learning? (p.29)

  Good question!
  

• Only 2 pages under "narratives"
  
• Under "motivation," which has 21 sub-headings and 55 page references, there are a handful of possibly relevant subheadings: "Attention and motivation," with 1 page listed, "boredom and motivation," with 2 pages listed, "deep level engagement and motivation," 1 page listed, "emotions and motivation," 1 page listed.
  

Could someone clue me into to what a learning scientist might call "emotions," aesthetics," "engagement," and "narrative"? Could the field really have attended so little to these issues? I realize that the Handbook is hardly the entire corpus of the field, but I guess I was hoping to find a bit more than I did.

On Beyond ADDIE: Narrative, Aesthetics, & Learner Emotion

I cut my teeth in instructional design by designing a web-based air quality meteorology course. It all started when, one day, the director of my organization walked down the hall, stopping in at each office, asking, "Does anybody want to build a course for NOAA?" I said, "Sure!" and got to work.

At the time, I had no practical experience in the field to speak of. I had taken one class called "Introduction to Instructional Design." So I opened up my Principles of Instructional Design textbook from the class and started from page one. It was a great resource and got me up and running quickly. Between myself and two meteorology graduate students from NCSU, we produced the entire course that summer. To my knowledge, it was one of the first self-contained courses online and can still be found here (if you visit, please make sure you picture the state of the web in 1996 -- Hotmail was launched that summer and there was a whopping 342,081 websites online).

With time and experience, however, I have come to feel that the ADDIE-type approaches like the one in my Principles of Design book too often fail to account for the humanness of the learner. While you can use those methods to consider the humanity of your audience, you can also fulfill every prescribed step and entirely miss it.

What would I add? Let's start with three very powerful, very underutilized forces:

1. Narrative: Story has been used to bind people together in shared knowledge and understanding for thousands of years. It is arguably the first instructional strategy ever used to convey essential cultural knowledge to the rising generations. It's an essential aspect of virtually every culture on the planet. We are wired for narrative. We think in narrative, we speak in narrative, we even dream in narrative. We perceive our very existence as an unfolding narrative. We collectively pay billions of dollars to experience well-crafted (and not so well-crafted) narrative. Narrative design needs to be deeply understood and routinely practiced in our field.

How many instructional designers have even heard of the field of narratology? How many designers have studied the construction of a documentary, a screenplay, a dance performance, a musical composition? We are starting to scratch the surface with our recent attention to role-play scenarios and gaming, but have far, far to go.

2. Aesthetics: Human beings respond powerfully to aesthetic design. Every decision we make, like it or not, is mediated by our subjective perceptions. The "Bottomless Soup" study done by Brian Wansink, a recent winner of the IgNoble Prize for nutrition (and also has a book on the subject, Mindless Eating: Why We Eat More Than We Think) demonstrates this beautifully. And, of course, aesthetics don't only make us fat. They can relax us, orient us, inspire us, enliven us. Aesthetics are much more than the surface qualities of an object, but extend to encompass the richness of our experience, and the best applications of aesthetic design can embody and express layers of meaning in a profound, prereflective way. Patrick Parrish is starting the conversation in our field. This conversation needs to be accelerated and expanded.

3. Learner Emotion: Human beings feel, and what they feel influences their readiness to learn, their willingness to learn, how much they actually learn, and whether they will (ever) decide to learn about a particular topic again. As Russ Osguthorpe asks, "If they got an A in the class, and tell us that they never want to see that content again in their lives, have they really learned what we intended to teach them?" Emotions can work for or against learning. In order to account for emotion in our learning design, we need to know what learners are feeling before, during, and after learning experiences occur.

We have a whole science devoted to measuring learning before, during, and after learning experiences and, ostensibly, ways to intervene based on what is learned from these assessments. Where is the science and technique of measuring the learners' emotions? What are the best practices of how to intervene based in what is learned? What makes us think we can teach effectively if we only know what learners know and not how they feel? How they feel about learning this topic, how they feel about their ability to learn this topic, how they feel right now in this learning session during this learning activity? Engagement is both a cognitive and an emotional experience. Can you imagine a flow experience in a learning setting that was devoid of emotion? Can you imagine an overwhelmed, bored, distracted, or anxiety-filled learner maximizing their learning?

We teach human beings. Let's start designing human experiences as well as learning experiences.

Holistic Education vs. Holistic Learning vs. Holistic Learning Experiences

tsharvey (who also happens to be my brother-in-law) asked this question and I thought it was worth responding to in a post rather than just a comment.

tsharvey said:

I don't think I've ever encountered the term 'holistic learning experiences' —of course, I'm not in the instructional design field. While I can speculate what you might mean by holistic learning experiences (and how it might differ from ideas such as integrated learning environments), can you clarify or provide examples of such approaches?

My answer: There is a Holistic Education movement that is more expansive than I am referring to that you can read about here or at wikipedia. If you are interested, a colleague of mine recommends this book:
Holistic Education: An Analysis of Its Ideas and Nature (The Foundations of Holistic Education Series, V. 8)*
(*Amazon link -- I am an Amazon associate -- but you can also buy it here and I won't get a dime.)

There is also something called "holistic learning" by Patrick G. Love and Anne Goodsell Love. They define this as

the integration of intellectual, social, and emotional aspects of undergraduate student learning. (reference)

That is closer, since I am interested in all three aspects of learning. So what exactly do I mean by "holistic learning experiences"? What I am getting at is that, in the field of instructional design, most models require an analysis of the content that breaks it down into ever smaller pieces until you have all these little parts of knowledge. Then, many models say, you teach this piece this way and that piece that way and when you are done teaching all of the pieces, the learner will know what they need to know. This can become a fragmented, decontextualized kind of experience. Our university system is an analogy, where individual disciplines can get so focused on themselves they lose sight of the big picture and fail to collaborate with each other to research cross-disciplinary issues.

When I say holistic learning experience, I mean designing the experience with the whole as well as the parts in mind. What will the overall structure be? How will we make sure the parts are related to each other meaningfully? When is it better for the learner to experience the material in larger chunks (and, at times, with more ambiguity)? This is one of the reasons I am interested in narrative, because I believe that narrative design has to pay attention to both the whole and the parts at the same time to be successful, and I think my field can learn from that.

"Holistic learning experiences" is a term I made up. I am open to suggestions if a better one comes to mind.

Joseph