Imagine that you are at a summer barbeque. You arrived late and everyone has already drifted into their cliques. You grab some food and a drink, then linger, listening into the conversation happening before deciding which group to go and join.
Over by the desserts is a group talking about people: you know the sort of thing… “Have you heard about Hilda’s husband?”… “You’ll never guess what she said to me!”… “That’s the last time I’m going on holiday with him.” etc.
Over by the drinks is a huddle talking about ‘things’. The topics range from sport, to what shows they’ve been to see, to where they are going on holiday this year, to favourite obscure bands, to what new company car to get next, and so on.
Lastly, sitting slumped on the scatter cushions is an aloof group taking about ideas. The conversation veers between political ideology, the latest scientific breakthrough, mind-body dualism, and whether AI will change the world.
Which group do you join?
For me, its a no-brainer. I mean, I might drift over to the ‘things’ group if the topic is 90’s indie bands or horror films, but I will soon move away if anyone starts talking about sport. Where I know I will find my tribe is among the ideas people. Those slightly introverted, moderately geeky, bookish bods.
When I am introduced to an idea that changes the way I see the world, I get a little hit of dopamine. When I am asked a question I can’t answer, I get a strong urge to dive into a rabbit hole of research. When I learn something that enables me to navigate my life more effectively, to be better at what I value doing, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. I am not sure at what point in my life I became intellectually curious (my school teachers would say it sure as hell wasn’t there back then), but it is one of the motivating forces in my life – the others being mountains and new experiences. I’m a simple chap.
So, when Becky Allen asked me if I wanted to write a book about assessment, my answer was ‘Why not?’ I knew from conversations with the far-more-knowledgeable Becky that there was a huge amount I didn’t yet know about assessment, and I knew that learning more would help me become better at my job. This ticked all the barbeque boxes.
Long story short, we didn’t write a book. We ended up trying to write four! And then we failed to do that too. Why? It wasn’t for lack of trying. I think we have almost 100,000 words in vaguely coherent sentences, organised, and reorganised, and reorganised yet again, into various chapter formats. But we never managed to bottom out what we wanted to say, and the book format somehow seemed deeply unsatisfactory. The topic is a mile wide and a mile deep, and it shifts every time we look at it. There is stuff we want to say, but we wanted our form of communication to feel more like a drunken conversation at a barbeque and less like a stuffy lecture.
The thing I have learnt about assessment is that it yields to scrutiny in interesting ways, depending on how you come at it. Assessment in education grew from psychometric testing; an attempt to reveal the invisible workings of the mind. Much of the literature on the topic is firmly rooted in this (very modern) tradition: measurement, inferences, construct validity. This is fairly well-trodden territory.
But we have learnt so much in the last decade or so about cognition: about memory, encoding, schema, retrieval. If we begin to apply these ideas to assessment, we start to see how powerful it can be as a learning tool, as well as a tool for measurement.
And what of human behaviour? Being assessed changes our behaviour, whether that is through the expectation that we will be tested and judged, or due to the impact on our self-concept of receiving that judgement. Whilst the psychometrician’s goal is accurate and valid measurement, the teacher’s goal is far broader: it is to promote learning. When we think about assessment through the lens of human behaviour – motivation, identity, academic self-concept, social norms, habituated responses – we begin to unlock the power of assessment as a tool to achieve educational goals.
And what of curriculum thinking, epistemology, systems theory, complexity, power, organisational behaviour, theory of mind, cue theory, and disciplinary traditions? Each informs, each makes us a little more expert and a little less myopic in our thinking.
How do you write a book about that? Or even four books?
So, we offer you no definitive answer; no grand theory; no simple user guide. Instead we offer you this new Substack. Week by week, we will delve into the fascinating world of assessment, all free, all for you.
Let the barbeque begin! Come and hang out with us. No gossip, no sport. Just 100% assessment.
https://100assessment.substack.com/
Matthew Evans 