Digital Journal — The crisp autumn air had more than its usual energy this Saturday evening in the eastern reaches of Toronto. Hundreds of alumnae had gathered at the University of Toronto at Scarborough for its 40th anniversary celebrations. Jutted onto the side of hilly parkland, trees resplendent in fall colours, the college’s award-winning futuristic design still inspired looks of admiration and, for the aging grads, memories.
As dinner was served in the central Meeting Place Hall, it became clear that over its 40 years, Toronto’s east-end campus had succeeded as a modern arts and science institution of higher learning. Grads included a who’s who of academic, political and corporate leaders. Legitimate pride through affiliation filled the room.
The evening closed with a collage of still photos, evoking nostalgic smiles about the dated fashions, past football victories and pub nights. Many of the pictures looked out of place: black-and-whites of TV studios, microphones, cameras and cables, imagery more of a radio and television arts college than a university. And with these pictures came exchanged glances and knowing nods of an alternate history, a history of what might have been but never was.
Scarborough College, as it was then known, was supposed to be the world’s first television university, where the baby boom generation raised on the tube in the 1950s would attend a cutting-edge school with classes taught via TV.
A vast 6,000-square-foot studio, replete with then-modern technology, would anchor an environment where students would learn not just from professors in lecture halls, but from huge monitors hung from the ceilings. Each class was decked out with TVs.
It was 1966. Mankind was still three years from walking on the moon, but a bold experiment in TV was underway. A new step for a school, a giant leap for education.
But then, within just one year, the sets were turned off and the experiment was over. The basic premise of learning from a screen didn’t work.
Now, fast-forward almost 40 years to Canada’s national capital.
For 21-year-old David Spurgeon, Monday morning began as it did for thousands of Ottawans. The alarm clock blared. Breakfast, then shower. The mental checklists, checking bus schedules and just before leaving, setting his personal video recorder (PVR) before tending to customers at the nearby Home Depot.
As he worked, the PVR hummed away, digitally storing content for Spurgeon’s other responsibility as a third-year student at Carleton University. It wasn’t recording movies or sporting events — it was recording that day’s lectures.
The routine is simple: work during the day, come home to his student apartment, flip on CUTV, the Carleton University Cable Channel, and plug into his courses.
For Spurgeon, the choice to learn remotely was a no-brainer. “I decided to embrace the PVR option because it was the most convenient for me. By being able to watch my classes at my convenience, I have greater flexibility when it comes to work, going to the gym and socializing.”
Unlike previous generations of students who buried themselves in studies and part-time work, only to graduate owing tens of thousands of dollars, today’s students can effectively engage in pay-as-you-go education.
CUTV is part of Rogers Digital Cable in Ottawa, and it has enormous reach. Students living outside the Ottawa area — even those in the continental U.S. — can receive their lectures on videotape, through Carleton’s courier service.
For Spurgeon, it’s the ultimate in freedom. For educators, it’s another small step towards the telelearning dreams of the past. Google the term “online learning” and watch what pops up: six million sites and counting. There’s a revolution underway and Carleton’s at the forefront.
“Lucky for me,” says Spurgeon, “I discovered that my courses are also broadcast on the Internet via streaming video. So now I don’t bother with PVR, which is reserved for my TV shows. I exclusively use the Internet to watch my courses.”
The university’s Educational Development Center and Department of Psychology initiated this streaming experiment in the fall of 2002. Students appreciate the school’s initiative.
“Carleton’s cable system is very well thought out,” says one student. “Some of my friends think it’s a bad idea, because some don’t possess the discipline to keep up with all the classes.”
For students, it allows great flexibility. If you don’t want to go to class, you don’t have to. If you don’t understand a thing the professor just said, you can rewind it with a couple of clicks. Need to cram before a test? You can catch up by renting all the tapes the day before.
For those of us who grew up with a traditional education, the online learning concept takes some getting used to. It’s like watching an electric or hybrid car zip past you on the highway — you’re not quite sure what to make of it, but somehow you know you’re looking at the future.
Will this bold experiment replace universities as we know them? Hardly. Much of education is an interpersonal process. Watching lectures on tape or online means no classroom input. Moreover, if you’re undisciplined, then you may miss a lot of lectures and your computer becomes nothing more than a stack of unopened electronic books. Chat rooms can be fun, but it’s not the same as schmoozing in a campus coffee shop.
Back at the 40th anniversary at Scarborough College, participants disperse for the evening with memories rekindled, some bittersweet, but most nostalgic. The original “TV Experiment” is no more, perhaps a technological concept too ahead of its time.
Today’s students have a different perspective of technology, having been raised on the Net. They are able to shift between on-screen education and other diversions with ease and aplomb.
The boomers can only admire and wonder what might have been.
subscribe to Digital Journal now, and receive 8 issues for $29.95 + GST ($48.95 USD).
