Graduate Student ReflectionGraduate Student Reflection Series: On the Upside of Zoom Courses

Graduate Student Reflection Series: On the Upside of Zoom Courses

The woes of zoom fatigue have become a popular chorus oft heard ringing ‘round the halls of academia. The term refers to the cognitive and physical exhaustion associated with live virtual courses (LVCs). The underlying causes of zoom fatigue range from increased cognitive load stemming from changes in facial perception to the additional constant visual feedback of how we appear on camera to the stress of speaking to a group with limited non-verbal feedback. In short, a litany of biological and psychological factors work in concert to tax our mental faculties over baseline during zoom courses leaving participants mentally and even physically fatigued. And then there is the associated stress of an unending stream of webcam foibles: accidental noises and unexpected visitors and all manner of unintentional social faux pas alongside the unending technical problems – the two most pernicious undoubtedly being muted microphones and failed screen shares. LVCs are also the cause of deleterious social effects. People miss the impromptu interactions and intellectual discussions that arise from physical proximity to their peers. They harken back to the time when there was a clear distinction between their living space and workspace. They long for the connection and community that resonates so much more clearly when we’re in the presence of a group. For most, the era of LVCs can’t end soon enough. But I’m not so sure it should.

Despite the many negatives of LVCs there are also arguably irreplaceable positives; access, diversity, and opportunity chief among them. 

As this post is part of a student reflection series that asks the writer to reflect on the most effective teaching tools and pedagogies that we’ve encountered in our coursework, I’ll first use myself as an example of the benefits of LVCs. I am a mature student and a little more than a decade older than most of my contemporaries. When I was an undergraduate, I had significant familial and work responsibilities that negatively impacted my grades. Philosophy doctoral programs are extraordinarily competitive, and while my undergraduate marks certainly weren’t terrible, they were not up to par for the caliber of institution that I aspired to attend, the foremost being Oxford. So, although I completed my MSc at the University of Edinburgh in 2019 with strong marks, I decided to further strengthen my application by taking additional graduate coursework in philosophy. When Covid-19 began affecting the academy, I was initially worried that most or perhaps even all university courses might be canceled and my plans would be stifled. However, contrary to my initial concerns, the widespread move to LVCs not only allowed me to take more coursework, but I was soon able to do so at places I would not have otherwise been able.

Based in the Los Angeles MSA, I planned to take two courses in philosophy as a visiting student at nearby UCLA. Los Angeles is rightly notorious for its traffic, and so the move to an LVC framework saved me approximately 2 hours per class session by eliminating my commute. This amounted to roughly 4 or 5 saved hours per week. This time savings allowed me to double my course load from two (one per quarter) to four (two per quarter). I was also able to squeeze in three additional graduate courses at Oxford plus one audit under a similar visiting student schema; a relatively easy feat that was no more difficult than taking courses at UCLA, given the ubiquitous transition to the LVC format. It was, of course, no accident that I chose to take additional courses at my first-choice graduate programme. I figured that strong scores and a good classroom performance might improve my odds of admission. Looking back, I now realize that I had inadvertently created a bespoke international philosophy curriculum, and I was by no means the only student to take advantage of the opportunity to take far away classes with distant scholars. Every single LVC I took had visiting students, like me, from other institutions. This provided a wide range of geographic and departmental representation, further enhancing the discussions in each course.  Despite the virtual setting, I was able to connect well enough with my LVC professors that all three of my letters of recommendation came not from my own master’s programme, but from my LVCs. As an unexpected bonus, a paper I wrote for a course at UCLA evolved into my writing sample. 

Thus, LVCs allowed me to take classes that would have been otherwise untenable. As a result, I was exposed to great ideas and brilliant people that would have been otherwise unknown to me. I will almost certainly be a better philosopher in the long run because of the increased access afforded to me by the LVC format. These courses also helped me garner letters from well-known philosophers and add supplemental transcripts to my profile from institutions generally regarded as top 10 in the field all in the hopes of improving my application. And it worked. I will enter the first year of the Oxford DPhil this October. I’m honestly not sure I’d be where I am today without the benefit of a live virtual learning environment. Maybe some place rather good. But probably not at my dream school. 

While LVCs helped me to improve my application dossier, they can serve a more foundational role for many persons who have obligations that prevent them from attending traditional courses. Many current or would-be college students have significant financial, familial, or health obligations that interfere with their ability to participate in traditional in-person courses. Imagine the single parent who must balance a full-time job with their parental duties or the faithful child who must care for their ailing parents. Virtual classrooms would allow many such persons to attend courses and universities that would be well out of reach otherwise. If the academy cares to maintain an effective commitment to access and diversity, how can it ignore the reality that great swaths of the population do not have the luxury of leaving the workforce for several years so they might “indulge” in a formal education as demanded by the current learning model? The daycare, travel, time, and opportunity costs associated with a degree for many people are legion. While there are a handful of reputable universities that offer mostly asynchronous degree programs, they are few and far between and in many cases look suspiciously like diploma mill style money grabs. Worse yet, asynchronous coursework usually, though in fairness not always, comes with the kind of reduction in quality that causes many folks to regard online degree programs with suspicion. By contrast, via real-time feedback and live interaction, LVCs can dramatically improve access with little sacrifice to quality relative to traditional classrooms. One of the hallmarks of my LVC experience was the ability to genuinely engage and connect with fascinating peers and brilliant professors. As one of my letter writers once remarked during zoom office hours in response to my desire to one day thank her in person, “Oh my, that’s right! I had forgotten that we haven’t met in person.” Real connection can and does happen virtually. 

For those still skeptical in the wake of their past and current teaching experience, I would emphasize that there is more than one way to create a live virtual environment. For example, for a relatively de minimus infrastructure investment, classrooms can be wired for sound and video that could host hybrid courses that can seamlessly and simultaneously host in-person and virtual students. This would allow professors to teach to their in-person audience without the burden of zoom fatigue, while expanding access and opportunity to those who, for whatever reason, can’t attend class in-person. I’ve seen and heard about a slew of poor ad hoc executions of this strategy over the last 15 months. Perhaps you have too. But there are some outstanding examples already in place that demonstrate that it can be and is being done right. I further admit that LVCs don’t work for every course, particularly those with strong lab components. But, if done properly, LVCs can cover enough ground to significantly improve access and diversity for a great many people. Because they lower the burden of space and development costs, LVCs can also play an important role in tamping down the out-of-control tuition inflation that is decreasing the value and perception of college education. Finally, I’d ask the reader to carefully distinguish between fatigue caused by LVCs and fatigue rooted in the cumulative effects of Covid-19. Teaching virtually might be far more palatable when not accompanied by the cumulative effects of a global pandemic. 

LVCs gave me a second chance to achieve my dream. I know firsthand the difference that being at good places with good people, even if only virtually, can make. The world is embracing VR and those persons and institutions who don’t embrace the inevitability of live virtual learning environments run the risk of being left behind. Indeed, the train has already left the station and it would be better if everyone was on board. So, I end with an appeal to all current and future professors: When your university or department discusses the future of LVCs, I hope you will advocate ways to meet the needs of both your fellow professors and those persons whose education or, perhaps even their dreams, depend on them. The academy’s current and future professorship can either embrace LVCs and have a hand in shaping the future of their profession, or they can resist them, withdraw from the discussion, and let the bureaucrats and their budgets do the shaping for them. 

I, for one, prefer to trust the format of future education to the educators, rather than the accountants.

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William Wells

William Wells most relevantly holds a BA in philosophy and religion from Biola University, an MSc epistemology, ethics, and mind from the University of Edinburgh, an MSc applied neuroscience from King’s College London, and is an entering DPhil Philosophy candidate at the University of Oxford. His areas of interest include the philosophy of cognitive science, moral psychology, sociobiology, moral epistemology, and ethics.

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