By Dennis Sale
IN June last year, I wrote a column on the importance of good thinking and why it should be explicitly taught in schools.
In this series of three columns, I will carry out a deeper dive into what good thinking entails and how we can develop it. The need for good thinking is not just a matter for the school curriculum; it is desperately needed within the wider global context too. As I wrote previously, good thinking is not just common sense and, if it was, it is not that common. In this series, there is both good news and bad on this topic.
Firstly, a key statement on the good side. Good thinking, like any skillset, is a learnable competence, and I will explain and illustrate how it can be developed towards expertise. As Perkins (1995), a global writer in the field, pointed out: ‘People can learn to think and act intelligently’.
The approach presented, a result of extensive research which I endured for over a decade, is applicable in all contexts in which a problem – small or large – needs to be solved, or at least mitigated in terms of negative outcomes.
However, while there is a simplicity to achieving good thinking, which is fundamental to effective learning, there is bad news too. So, in this first column, let’s get this ‘out in the open’ – so to speak. In terms of an analogy for good thinking, the game of Snakes and Ladders – as for many of life’s experiences – is pertinent. Ascending ladders is, of course, nice, whether achieved through skill or serendipity. But what can we do about the snakes? We certainly know what they are and where they live – the metaphysical version inhabit the human brain, and its experiential manifestation – the mind. However, can we affect the throw of the dice?
The answer comes later, let’s first carry out the necessary snake genealogy. A big snake in this sense is the fact that the human brain does not like to think – well, much of the time, anyway. As cognitive psychologist Willingham (2009) concluded: ‘Humans don’t think very often because our brains are designed not for thought but for the avoidance of thought.’
From a similar perspective, Hattie and Yates (2014) offer the following analysis: ‘The ability to think well, to learn efficiently, and solve problems successfully are attributes that do not figure in most descriptions of natural human adroitness.
‘While a few of us seem to want to develop good thinking skills (however defined) – it does not seem to be typical…
‘Humans naturally assimilate the vast bulk of their knowledge through direct social influence processes that do not make great demands on thinking capabilities.’
While we live in an increasing high-tech world, research suggests that human brains were pretty much the same – morphologically – some 50,000 years ago. Indeed, recent data shows that even 300,000 years ago, the brain size of Homo sapiens already fell within the range of present-day humans (Neubauer, 2018). However, using a stone-age brain in the modern world is one thing but, as Pinker (2019) also points out: ‘People are by nature illiterate and innumerate, quantifying the world by “one, two, many” and by rough guesstimates.
‘They understand physical things as having hidden essences that obey the laws of the sympathetic magic of voodoo rather than physics and biology… They generalise from paltry samples, namely their own experience… They overestimate their knowledge, understanding, rectitude and luck.’
A collection of longish snakes ‘snuggle up’ in our beliefs and emotions, and ambush and distort – albeit often unconsciously – our capability for rational cognitive activity. For example, Marcus (2009) highlights how our belief systems provide challenges to the brain functioning as an effective ‘thinking machine’: ‘Our beliefs are contaminated by the tricks of memory, by emotion, and by the vagaries of a perceptual system that really ought to be fully separate – not to mention a logic and inference system that is, as yet, in the early 21st century, far from fully hatched.’
So, to end the snake analogy, as Brown et al (2014) summarised: ‘The truth is that we are all hardwired to make errors in judgement. Good judgement is a skill one must acquire, becoming an astute observer of one’s own thinking and performance.
‘We start at a disadvantage for several reasons. One is that when we’re incompetent, we tend to overestimate our competence and see little reason for change. Another is that, as humans, we are readily misled by illusions, cognitive biases and the stories we construct to explain the world around us and our place within it.’
Now, what about the ladders, and how best to throw the dice? Firstly, and most significantly, we possess the capability to carry out metacognitive thinking – the ability to reflect on our own thoughts, feelings and beliefs. The capability to consciously think about our actions, be aware of their potential consequences, and the likelihood of experiencing a range of feelings from heightened pleasure to extreme dread seems to define mankind as distinct from other animal species.
How much free will we possess is contested, both philosophically and in the field of cognitive neuroscience. I tend to go with the notion that we have some essence of free will, and this may make metacognitive capability (Sale, 2020) the most important competence for the 21st century. The nature and focus of learning, and concerns about human conduct and improving intelligent behaviour – at individual, organisational, societal and global levels – may reside in this capability.
Of course, the ‘snakes’ contrive, for reasons not yet fully known even in the scientific community, to mess up our more noble endeavours to do the right thing. There is a reason why our New Year’s resolutions often fall by the wayside.
In summary for this first column, we know what the snakes are – barriers to good thinking. And we also know that with free will and metacognitive capability, they can be confined mainly to their baskets.
In the next two columns, I will offer effective strategies for ‘ladder climbing’ and ‘dice manipulation’ – an evidence-based approach for developing good thinking.
-
Dennis Sale worked in the Singapore education system for 25 years as an advisor, researcher and examiner. He coached more than 15,000 teaching professionals and provided over 100 consultancies in Asia. Dennis is the author of the books Creative Teachers: Self-directed Learners (Springer 2020), and Creative Teaching: An Evidence-Based Approach (Springer, 2015). To contact him, visit dennissale.com.
