context

The Role of Context in Shaping Cognitive Development

I'm a great believer in the wide-ranging, and widely-underestimated, effects of context - on all manner of things. I'm also a fan of the view that intelligence - so widely regarded as a fixed attribute - is also partly influenced by context. So I was pleased to see an article by Stephen Ceci - intelligence guru - discussing the role of context in cognitive development, and the implications of that for education.

Stephen Ceci at This View of Life:

When it comes to mental ability, many of our human talents were shaped by evolutionary forces that arose under the demanding conditions of life on the African savannah 35,000 to 50,000 years ago. Evolutionary psychologists have linked many of our current attributes to these earlier environmental challenges faced by our predecessors (Kanazawa, 2005). This much is noncontroversial. What is less agreed upon, however, is the extent to which present-day cognition is under the control of local conditions—that is, the specific physical, motivational, and psychological conditions under which humans attempt to solve problems. The argument I am making is that it is logically unsafe to claim that our successful performance on cognitive tasks today reflects our evolutionary preparation because the flip side is that our unsuccessful performance reflects our lack of evolutionary preparation—which may be wrong. In fact, a great deal of developmental research demonstrates that even when evolution has prepared us to undertake certain cognitive operations, successful performance depends on local conditions.


Educational implications. The goal of education is not to drum facts and concepts into children, but to create awareness of how these facts and concepts can be generalized to situations that differ from the ones used to teach them. Thus, the key is transferring knowledge from the contexts used to teach it to ones encountered outside of school. And yet, a great deal of empirical research has documented that young and old, high IQ and low IQ, schooled and unschooled, all fail to transfer learning to new contexts that differ from the context in which they were originally taught (e.g., Ceci, 1996; Leshowitz, 1989). The research described here suggests that context is a constituent of cognition, not something adjunctive or peripheral to it. This view of cognition-in-context has several implications for education.

View of Life article

tags memworks: 

Event boundaries and working memory capacity

In a recent news report, I talked about how walking through doorways creates event boundaries, requiring us to update our awareness of current events and making information about the previous location less available. I commented that we should be aware of the consequences of event boundaries for our memory, and how these contextual factors are important elements of our filing system. I want to talk a bit more about that.

References: 

Culham, J. 2001. The brain as film director. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 5 (9), 376-377.

Kurby, C. a, & Zacks, J. M. (2008). Segmentation in the perception and memory of events. Trends in cognitive sciences, 12(2), 72-9. doi:10.1016/j.tics.2007.11.004

Speer, N. K., Zacks, J. M., & Reynolds, J. R. (2007). Human Brain Activity Time-Locked to Narrative Event Boundaries. Psychological Science, 18(5), 449–455. doi:10.1111/j.1467-9280.2007.01920.x

tags strategies: 

tags memworks: 

Variety is the key to learning

On a number of occasions I have reported on studies showing that people with expertise in a specific area show larger gray matter volume in relevant areas of the brain. Thus London taxi drivers (who are required to master “The Knowledge” — all the ways and byways of London) have been found to have an increased volume of gray matter in the anterior hippocampus (involved in spatial navigation). Musicians have greater gray matter volume in Broca’s area.

References: 

Kwok, V., Niu Z., Kay P., Zhou K., Mo L., Jin Z., et al. (2011).  Learning new color names produces rapid increase in gray matter in the intact adult human cortex. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

tags memworks: 

tags study: 

tags problems: 

tags strategies: 

The most effective learning balances same and different context

I recently reported on a finding that memories are stronger when the pattern of brain activity is more closely matched on each repetition, a finding that might appear to challenge the long-standing belief that it’s better to learn in different contexts. Because these two theories are very important for effective learning and remembering, I want to talk more about this question of encoding variability, and how both theories can be true.

tags memworks: 

tags study: 

tags strategies: 

Finding the right strategy through perception and physical movement

I talk a lot about how working memory constrains what we can process and remember, but there’s another side to this — long-term memory acts on working memory. That is, indeed, the best way of ‘improving’ your working memory — by organizing and strengthening your long-term memory codes in such a way that large networks of relevant material are readily accessible.

Oddly enough, one of the best ways of watching the effect of long-term memory on working memory is through perception.

tags memworks: 

tags study: 

tags strategies: 

Successful remembering requires effective self-monitoring

We forget someone’s name, and our response might be: “Oh I’ve always been terrible at remembering names!” Or: “I’m getting old; I really can’t remember things anymore.” Or: nothing — we shrug it off without thought. What our response might be depends on our age and our personality, but that response has nothing to do with the reason we forgot.

We forget things for a number of short-term reasons: we’re tired; we’re distracted by other thoughts; we’re feeling emotional. But underneath all that, at all ages and in all situations, there is one fundamental reason why we fail to remember something: we didn’t encode it well enough at the time we learned/experienced it. And, yes, that is a strategy failure, and possibly also a reflection of those same factors (tired, distracted, emotional), but again, at bottom there is one fundamental reason: we didn’t realize what we needed to do to ensure we would remember it. This is a failure of self-monitoring, and self-monitoring is a crucial, and under-appreciated, strategy.

I’ve written about self-monitoring as a study skill, but self-monitoring is a far broader strategy than that. It applies to children and to seniors; it applies to remembering names and intentions and facts and experiences and skills. And it has a lot to do with cognitive fluency.

Cognitive fluency is as simple a concept as it sounds: it’s about how easy it is to think about something. We use this ease as a measure of familiarity — if it’s easy, we assume we’ve met it before. The easier it is, the more familiar we assume it is. Things that are familiar are (rule of thumb) assumed to be safe, seen as more attractive, make us feel more confident.

And are assumed to be known — that is, we don’t need to put any effort into encoding this information, because clearly we already know it.

Familiarity is a heuristic (rule of thumb) for several attributes. Fluency is a heuristic for familiarity.

Heuristics are vital — without these, we literally couldn’t function. The world is far too complex a place for us to deal with it without a whole heap of these rules of thumb. But the problem with them is that they are not rules, they are rules of thumb — guidelines, indicators. Meaning that a lot of the time, they’re wrong.

That’s why it’s not enough to unthinkingly rely on fluency as a guide to whether or not you need to make a deliberate effort to encode/learn something.

The secret to getting around the weaknesses of fluency is effective testing.

Notice I said effective.

If you intend to buy some bread on the way home from work, does the fact that you reminded yourself when you got to work constitute an effective test? Not in itself. If you are introduced to someone and you remember their name long enough to use it when you say goodbye, does this constitute an effective test? Again, not in itself. If you’re learning the periodic table and at the end of your study session are able to reel off all the elements in the right order, can you say you have learned this, and move on to something else? Not yet.

Effective testing has three elements: time, context, and feedback.

The feedback component should be self-evident, but apparently is not. It’s no good being tested or testing yourself, if your answer is wrong and you don’t know it! Of course, it’s not always possible to get feedback — and we don’t need feedback if we really are right. But how do we know if we’re right? Again, we use fluency to tell us. If the answer comes easily, we assume it’s correct. Most of the time it will be — but not always. So if you do have some means of checking your answer, you should take it.

[A brief aside to teachers and parents of school-aged students: Here in New Zealand we have a national qualifying exam (actually a series of exams) for our older secondary school students. The NCEA is quite innovative in many ways (you can read about it here if you’re curious), and since its introduction a few years ago there has been a great deal of controversy about it. As a parent of students who have gone through and are going through this process, I have had many criticisms about it myself. However, there are a number of good things about it, and one of these (which has nothing to do with the nature of the exams) is a process which I believe is extremely rare in the world (for a national exam): every exam paper is returned to the student. This is quite a logistical nightmare of course, when you consider each subject has several different papers (as an example, my younger son, sitting Level 2 this year, did 18 papers) and every paper has a different marker. But I believe the feedback really is worth it. Every test, whatever its ostensible purpose, should also be a learning experience. And to be a good learning experience, the student needs feedback.]

But time and context are the important, and under-appreciated, elements. A major reason why people fail to realize they haven’t properly encoded/learned something, is that they retrieve it easily soon after encoding, as in my examples above. But at this point, the information is still floating around in an accessible state. It hasn’t been consolidated; it hasn’t been properly filed in long-term memory. Retrieval this soon after encoding tells you (almost) nothing (obviously, if you did fail to retrieve it at this point, that would tell you something!).

So effective testing requires a certain amount of time to pass. And as I discussed when I talked about retrieval practice, it really requires quite a lot of time to pass before you can draw a line under it and say, ok, this is now done.

The third element is the least obvious. Context.

Why do we recognize the librarian when we see her at the library, but don’t recognize her at the supermarket? She’s out of context. Why does remembering we need to buy bread on the way home no good if we remember it when we arrive at work? Because successful intention remembering is all about remembering at the right time and in the right place.

Effective encoding means that we will be able to remember when we need the information. In some cases (like intention memory), that means tying the information to a particular context — so effective testing involves trying to retrieve the information in response to the right contextual cue.

In most cases, it means testing across a variety of contexts, to ensure you have multiple access points to the information.

Successful remembering requires effective monitoring at the time of encoding (when you encounter the information). Effective monitoring requires you not to be fooled by easy fluency, but to test yourself effectively, across time and context. These principles apply to all memory situations and across all ages.

 

Additional resources:

If you want to know more about cognitive fluency and its effect on the mind (rather than memory specifically), there's nice article in the Boston Globe. As an addendum (I'd read the more general and in-depth article in the Globe first), Miller-McCune have a brief article on one particular aspect of cognitive fluency -- the effect of names.

Miller-McCune have have a good article on the value of testing and the motivating benefits of failure.

tags memworks: 

tags study: 

tags strategies: 

Context & the conditionalization of knowledge

Context is absolutely critical to successful communication. Think of the common experience of being a stranger at a family gathering or a meeting of close friends. Even familiar words and phrases may take on a different or additional meaning, among people who have a shared history. Many jokes and comments will be completely unintelligible, though you all speak the same language.

American anthropologist Edward Hall makes a useful distinction between ‘High context’ and ‘Low context’ communications. Your family gathering would be an example of a high context situation. In this setting, much of the meaning is carried in the speakers, their relationships, their knowledge of each other. In a low context situation, on the other hand, most of the meaning is carried in the actual words.

Part of the problem with email, as we all recognize, is that the context is so lacking, and the burden lies so heavily on the words themselves.

The importance of context for comprehension has, of course, profound implications for learning and memory.

I was reminded of this just the other day. I’m a fan of a TV program called NCIS. I only discovered it, however, at the beginning of the third season. After I’d watched it for some weeks, I purchased the DVDs of the earlier seasons. Most recently, I bought the DVD of season 3, which I had, of course, seen on TV. Watching the first episode of that season, which was the first episode of NCIS I ever saw, I was surprised to hear a line which I had no memory of, that was freighted with significance and led me to a much deeper understanding of the relationship between two of the characters — but which had meant absolutely nothing to me when I originally saw it, ignorant as I was of any of the characters and the back story.

The revelation meant nothing to me as a novice to the program, and so I didn’t remember it, but it meant everything to me as (dare I say it?) an expert.

Context is such a slippery word; so hard to define and pin down. But I think it’s fair to say that the difference between the novice and the expert rests on this concept. When an expert is confronted with a piece of information from her area of expertise, she knows what it means and where it belongs — even if the information is new to her. Because of this, she can acquire new information much more easily than a novice. But this advantage applies only in the expert’s area of expertise.

To take another example from the frivolous world of popular culture, a British study of fans of the long-running radio soap opera The Archers were given one of two imaginary scripts to read. One story was representative of the normal events in The Archers (a visit to a livestock market); the other was atypical (a visit to a boat show). These experts were able to remember many more details of the typical, market story than a group of subjects who knew little about the soap opera, but were no better at remembering details for the atypical story. Most importantly, this occurred even though the two stories shared many parallel features and most of the questions (and answers) used to assess their memory were the same. This indicates the specificity of expert knowledge.

Part of the advantage experts have is thought to rest on the ‘conditionalization’ of knowledge. That is, experts’ knowledge includes a specification of the contexts in which it is relevant.

It is surprising to many, this idea that it is not necessarily a lack of knowledge that is the problem — that people often have relevant knowledge and don’t apply it. In reading, for example, readers often don’t make inferences that they are perfectly capable of making, on the knowledge they have, unless the inferences are absolutely demanded to make sense of the text.

Another example comes from the making of analogies. I discuss this in my workbook on taking notes. Here’s a brief extract:

------------------------------------------

Rutherford’s comparison of the atom to the solar system gave us a means to understand the atom. The story goes that Newton ‘discovered’ gravity when an apple fell on his head — because of the comparison he made, realizing that the motion of an apple falling from a tree was in some sense like the motion of the planets. These are comparisons called analogies, and analogy has been shown to be a powerful tool for learning.

But the problem with analogies is that we have trouble coming up with them.

Generally, when we make analogies, we use an example we know well to help us understand something we don’t understand very well. This means that we need to retrieve from memory an appropriate example. But this is clearly a difficult task; people frequently fail to make appropriate connections — even, surprisingly, when an appropriate connection has recently come their way. In a study where people were given a problem to solve after reading a story in which an analogous problem was solved, 80% didn’t think of using the story to solve the problem until the analogy was pointed out to them.

It’s thought that retrieving an appropriate analogy is so difficult because of the way we file information in memory. Certainly similarity is an important attribute in our filed memories, but it’s not the same sort of similarity that governs analogies. The similarity that helps us retrieve memories is a surface similarity — a similarity of features and context. But analogies run on a deeper similarity — a similarity of structure, of relations between objects. This will only be encoded if you have multiple examples (at least more than one) and make an explicit effort to note such relations.

----------------------------------------------

The conditionalization of knowledge is of course related to the problem of transfer. Transfer refers to the ability to extend (transfer) learning from one situation to another (read more about it here) . Transfer is frequently used as a measure of successful learning. It’s all very well to know that 399-(399*0.1) = 359.1, but how far can you be said to understand it — how much use is it — if you can’t work out how much a $3.99 item will cost you if you have a 10% discount? (In fact, the asymmetry generally works the other way: many people are skilled at working out such purchase calculations, but fall apart when the problem is transferred to a purely numerical problem).

Transfer is affected by the context in which the information was originally acquired — obviously transfer is particularly problematic if you learn the material in a single context — and this is partly where the experts achieve their conditionalization: because, spending so much time with their subject they are more likely to come across the same information in a variety of contexts. But the more important source is probably the level of abstraction at which experts can operate (see my article on transfer for examples of how transfer is facilitated if the information is framed at a higher level of abstraction).

In those with existing expertise, an abstract framework is already in place. When an expert is confronted by new information, they automatically try and fit it into their existing framework. Whether it is consistent or inconsistent with what is already known doesn’t really matter — either way it will be more memorable than information that makes no deep or important connections to familiar material.

Let’s return to this idea of high and low context. Hall was talking about communications, in the context of different cultures (interestingly, he found cultures varied in the degree to which they were context-bound), but the basic concept is a useful one in other contexts. It is helpful to consider, when approaching a topic, either as student or teacher, the degree to which understanding requires implicit knowledge. A high context topic might be thought of as one that assumes a lot of prior knowledge, that assumes a knowledge of deeper structure, that is difficult to explain in words alone. A low context topic might be thought of as one that can be clearly and simply expressed, that can largely stand alone. Learning the basics of a language — how to conjugate a verb; some simple words and phrases — might be thought of as a low context topic, although clearly mastery of a language requires the complex and diverse building up of experiences that signifies a high context topic (and also clearly, some languages will be more ‘high context’ than others).

There is nothing particularly profound about this distinction, but an awareness of the ‘contextual degree’ of a topic or situation, is helpful for students, teachers, and anyone involved in trying to communicate with another human being (or indeed, computer!). It’s also helpful to be aware that high context situations require much more expertise than low context ones.

This article first appeared as "Context, communication & learning" in the Memory Key Newsletter for April 2007

References: 

Reeve, D.K. & Aggleton, J.P. 1998. On the specificity of expert knowledge about a soap opera: an everyday story of farming folk. Applied Cognitive Psychology, 12 (1), 35-42.

tags memworks: 

tags study: 

tags strategies: 

Similarity

Human memory is a complex and varied phenomenon, and we could delve into its mysteries every day for a hundred years and still have plenty to talk about. But if I had to pick one factor that was absolutely crucial to the operation of memory, I would pick the deceptively simple concept of similarity. Similarity.

We all think we know what that means. An orange is similar to a mandarin; a zebra is similar to a horse; a cup is similar to a glass; my son is similar to his brother. A car is similar to an elephant.

??

Well, I might think a car was similar to an elephant. Maybe I’m imagining an elephant thundering toward me, kicking up dirt, unstoppable. Or maybe my perceptions are confused. But whether there’s a logical reason for my perception of similarity or not, whether my perception of similarity is shared with other people or not, all that is required for my brain to make the connection is ... that I perceive a connection.

Similarity — perceived similarity — is a crucial ingredient to the connections made in your head. Similarity enables us to make connections that transcend space and time, and enables us to strengthen connections made as a result of a juxtaposition of space and time.

Thus, when you meet a person and he tells you his name is Tom Brown, the first connection is made simply because the name and person are coincident in space and time. And if you leave it there, that connection will most likely be too weak to retrieve on a later occasion.

You can (and should, if you want to remember) employ another critical element to strengthen the connection: repetition (which impacts on the perceived familiarity of the information, but that’s another story). But the new information (this person is named Tom Brown) will be much more firmly lodged in your database, and much easier to find, if you make other connections, connections to information already stored in your memory. Thus, you might associate the name with the book “Tom Brown’s Schooldays”, based on the similarity of names. There might be some physical characteristic of this new person that you can link to a character in the book. If so, you are much more likely to be able to remember this name when you meet the person again. However, if you are barely familiar with the book, and have to stretch your imagination to make any further connection, such as with the characters in the book, then this similarity of names won’t greatly help you.

The important thing when connecting new information to information already existing in your database, is to ensure the existing information is itself easily retrievable, and that the connections you make are not too obscure.

So, to make new memories easily retrievable:

  • look for similarities to existing memories
  • look for similarities that are obvious to you (what other people think doesn’t matter in the slightest)
  • choose existing memories that are themselves easily retrievable

This article originally appeared in the June 2004 newsletter.

tags memworks: 

tags study: 

tags strategies: 

Subscribe to context