In a recent post I noted the critical importance of capitalizing on intrinsic motivation rather than resorting to extrinsic measures in schools.
“Extrinsic” and “intrinsic” motivation are likely to be familiar notions, particularly to educators, but a brief definition may be helpful.
Extrinsic motivation, especially in education, is driven by systems of rewards and punishments. Although rewards and punishments seem like opposite forces, in this respect they are simply two sides of the same coin. “Ex,” indicates “out of,” thereby “extrinsic” means those things that are “out of” an individual. Obvious examples are grades, gold stars, M&M’s, lavish parental praise, pay bonuses, and so on. Someone other than the individual in question has their hand on the levers of reward. The flip side, punishment, may be the withholding of these things, or it may be more explicit punishment such as an “F” grade, suspension from school, shunning, expulsion, early bedtime, no television, or spanking. Again, with extrinsic motivation, the consequences of one’s actions are externally determined.
Intrinsic motivation is driven by factors that emanate from within, such as self-satisfaction, desire for mastery, curiosity, fulfillment, pleasure, self-realization, desire for independence, ethical needs, etc. Intrinsic motivation is a powerful innate characteristic of all human beings, across all cultures and societies.
Children’s intrinsic motivation is natural and powerful. Curiosity is endless. Why? How? Where? Exploration and discovery are a child’s daily work. Any parent or caregiver can testify to this obvious proposition. When children begin more “structured” schooling and discovery is replaced by instruction, intrinsic motivation begins to decline as extrinsic factors dominate. Test scores, report cards, red marks on paper, “good” work displayed, “right” answers praised, mistakes punished. The cumulative impact is the virtual extinguishing of intrinsic motivation (in school) by eighth or ninth grade. The “father” of cognitive psychology, Jerome Bruner, wrote extensively about social relationships and context as a critical variable in language development. As Bruner points out, learning becomes steadily de-contextualized as children move from grade to grade. As school becomes more controlled, more about instruction than exploration, more about abstraction than experience, children’s natural intrinsic motivation declines.
Then the stakes get even higher. Tests increase in frequency and duration. Expectations around college and achievement ratchet up. Grade point averages, honor roles, valedictorians, salutatorians, class ranks, and honor societies – all of these forms of extrinsic motivation are ubiquitous.
The absurd apotheosis of this transition can be seen in this anecdote:
Many faculty members at highly selective colleges report that their high-flying students are not only stressed and depressed, but alarmingly incurious. After all, they’ve been conditioned to answer questions, not ask them. They sit with notebook in hand, diligently recording the professors’ points of view so as to accurately reiterate them on the next exam or writing assignment. One lovely student who heard me rant on this topic in high school, grabbed the brass ring of Princeton admission despite maintaining her mental health and asking plenty of questions. At her first fall break, she stopped by my office.
(I paraphrase) “Steve! You were so right! At the start of the semester, in a small freshman class, the professor asked us to write an essay - no grade - to get an idea of our interests and writing ability. A student asked, ‘What should we write about?’ ‘Whatever you wish to write about,’ he replied. ‘But give us an idea of what you want,’ chirped another student. ‘I don’t care,’ he replied with mild irritation. ‘Write about whatever interests you.’ ‘But, but . . . what are we supposed to be interested in?’”
I’ve frequently been asked how schools can use intrinsic motivation in classrooms. It is not complicated, if a teacher has freedom to do so. The first principle is to place learning in context of relevance in children’s lives.
Don’t teach them things; organize a class setting or pose a problem where they discover the solution. Most importantly, capitalize on their interests and individual experiences.
Teach math by using calculation of baseball statistics. Urge them to write about their lives. Let them choose their own books. Do more group projects and fewer or no worksheets. An interest in fashion can be a history lesson. Especially for younger students, have a room full of interesting things and leave them alone. As long as you allow them to be curious, they will learn. Consider this delightful experiment:
A 2013 TED talk by Sugata Mitra, Professor of Educational Technology at Newcastle University in England, provides evidence of intrinsic motivation among children. He tried an experiment, expecting no particular outcome, placing personal computers in public spaces in his native India, in neighborhoods where children were not well educated. Among other obstacles, the software was in English and the children spoke no English. In response to questions like “what should we do?” he was good humored and non-committal. “Whatever you’d like, or nothing at all.” Over a period of several weeks the children deciphered the software, learned to type without ever before having seen a keyboard, and did all kinds of other things. Responding to critics who thought perhaps experts helped the children, he repeated this in more remote locations, where the odds against encountering a software designer were astronomical. In one iteration of this rural experiment he loaded a complex piece of college level curriculum about DNA (in English) on the computer for the kids to find, assuming they would ignore it or find it utterly incomprehensible. He reports humorously about an 11 year-old girl soon after describing the association between damaged DNA and disease.
His experiment surely supports the premise that children are naturally curious, intrinsically motivated, and more capable than adults might think
Even those learning activities that were initially driven by intrinsic motivation will weaken after they have been exposed to extrinsic structures. Let’s say a student loves reading for intrinsic reasons – curiosity, self-fulfillment and enjoyment. Then the reading activity is incentivized – a treat for reading a book, a gold star on a list in the classroom. Thereafter, the intrinsic motivation for reading grows weaker. This is an extraordinarily important concept to understand in designing school practices, but is apparently unknown to or ignored by a great many educators.
Other studies have suggested a link between children’s extrinsic motivational orientation and their vulnerability to helplessness in the face of failure, and possibly even their susceptibility to depression. This finding is of great importance in analyzing the rising levels of stress, depression and eating disorders among high achieving students .
And this is a powerfully important point: Even as the extrinsic structures in schooling grow nearly exponentially, there is no increase in extrinsic motivation. So why would anyone design or encourage this kind of school program or culture?
If we hope that children will continue to strive and be highly motivated to learn, sustaining their innate intrinsic motivation is essential. And this is what progressive schools have done since the 18th century, with emphasis on student choice, student-centered schools and project-based learning.
Understanding the importance of intrinsic motivation and the negative aspects of extrinsic structures calls into question a great deal about conventional school practices and educational reform.
Despite the complete lack of demonstrable improvement in schools, reformers are doubling down on extrinsic structures, demeaning, degrading and demotivating millions of children and their teachers.
That’s just crazy.
Hi, Steve. I'm William, and I was a freshman during your last year at Calhoun. Do you think that this teaching philosophy extends beyond grade school to higher education, or, at that point, does absorbing a large volume of technical knowledge warrant sacrificing the more time-intensive (though more rewarding) progressive approach?