The Classroom Without Walls | Motohiro Tsuchiya, Dean of the Faculty of Policy Management
2020.07.28
When Twitter first became popular, hashtags were created for each class at SFC, and live-tweeting lectures became a common practice. This was based on a student's suggestion that compiling the hashtags would automatically create class notes.
In reality, it rarely worked out that well, but it was interesting for faculty to see what students were thinking during class. If there were two screens in the classroom, one would display a feed of tweets with the class hashtag, and the instructor would occasionally pick up questions and comments to make the class interactive. Since then, it's not just Twitter; various chat tools have been used for each class, and now Slack is often used.
In the spring semester of 2020, SFC conducted all classes online. Using tools like WebEx and Zoom, students made full use of the chat function. They not only posed questions and comments to the instructor but also discussed and supported each other. Often, by the time I thought about answering a question, it had already been resolved by the students in the chat.
As a result of online classes, the walls of the once-closed classroom are steadily being broken down. Most faculty and students connect from home, but we don't know where the students actually are. Some are international students who cannot come to Japan. Some are likely in countries with different political systems.
The university classroom used to be a closed room that encouraged free speech. On the premise that only those present were listening, both faculty and students could speak freely. The free exchange of opinions was supposed to be of utmost importance, especially in small classes and seminars (though of course, the closed room had its own problems). However, social media led to "leaks." And now, online classes have almost completely removed the walls. When you think that you don't know who is listening, that the class is being recorded, and that it might be leaked, sensitive dialogues—such as criticizing a political regime in a political science or area studies class—become difficult for both faculty and students. Once a statement is circulated on social media out of context, it is difficult to retract.
When I think about such things, my own online classes become a little awkward. It's difficult to make lighthearted jokes, and I hesitate to engage in small talk (though I suspect most faculty at SFC are not concerned about this).
Many US universities, which accept a large number of international students from around the world, have also indicated that they will continue with online classes for the time being. Although the US government seems to have retracted it, a policy was once announced that would have required international students studying at US universities to return to their home countries. Had that happened, the landscape of global universities might have changed significantly.
Education is a cornerstone of national policy. Different countries will have different teaching content and methods. It is natural to experience culture shock when studying abroad; in fact, that was one of its greatest appeals. Now, however, it is becoming commonplace to take classes from foreign universities while remaining in one's own country.
Education rooted in the values of each country is now being conducted across borders. This is an interesting phenomenon, but we do not yet know how educationally effective it will be. An international student who once came to study with me asked, "Why does the Japanese media speak so ill of its own prime minister?" Six months later, he came to understand it as normal. I wonder if international students who remain in their home countries can acquire this kind of Japanese sensibility.
For now, online classes cannot directly convey smell, taste, or heat. International students who remain online cannot go to America to eat steak, to China to eat Shanghai crab, or come to Japan to eat sushi. Of course, they can probably taste such foreign foods in their own countries. But they cannot have the feeling of having eaten it in its authentic place. Can studying abroad without such cultural experiences have a sense of reality? Can they still find appeal in classes delivered from foreign educational institutions? And will countries with authoritarian regimes not be concerned about education from countries that permit free speech flowing into their own?
Many of my faculty colleagues at SFC are starting to say that it's fine to just stay online. I am in the minority, unable to go that far yet.
If the effects of COVID-19 continue, universities around the world will likely continue with online classes, accelerating global competition in education. In the short term, there may be educational friction based on differences in political systems. After overcoming that, there is a possibility that an era of hardship for universities will arrive, one in which online classes are cross-referenced and become so similar that it makes little difference which university you attend.
For SFC, with its inconvenient location, online classes have significant advantages. But I worry what will happen if we lose the classes that one can only take by coming to SFC (for now, there are still many such attractive classes, but they will eventually be imitated). The competition for the future of universities beyond COVID-19 has already begun.