GIGO

Learning from their Mistakes

We never forget the information we learned through a teacher getting it wrong. Such has been one of the discussions on the Internet. It's an intriguing thought, combining something of adolescent intellectual hubris with a genuine interest in how and why we learn things.

One of my strongest memories of primary school is of a certain righteous indignation concerning the woefully outdated solar system chart up on the wall. From that time on I tended to double-check what I was told -- good training for someone interested in science and vital for a journalist.

The Net discussion has revolved around the reactions of teachers when mistakes are pointed out. There were teachers who were happy to encourage a class to check things out, to say "gee, I don't know the answer to that". These teachers were remembered with fondness, their pupils recalling how it had made learning an interesting, active process of discovery.

Sadly, there were other reactions, albeit understandable ones. It can be hard to admit mistakes -- even harder when it's some spotty teenager pointing it out. Many of the stories told of intransigent opposition to correction, ranging from ignoring any challenge through to heavy bouts of sarcasm.

Certainly the people involved remember exceedingly well the disputed points. Some were obvious -- a teacher calling the Sun a planet; some were more esoteric -- mix-ups between tautology and teleology. In science (or rather the sort of science taught at school), you've got a good chance of determining which is correct. Imagine the potential problems in subjects which require far more interpretation -- history, say.

I recall one classmate who ran into trouble for his opinion of the role which a Ngapuhi leader had played during the days of early colonial Auckland. Patuone had been described as a patriot who fought for the Pakeha and was given land on the North Shore for his help in defending Auckland. Stuart's succinct synopsis said "I think Patuone was a fink."

But for that dissension, I might never have remembered who Patuone was. Yet that will stay with me, filed alongside the Sun definitely being a star (not a planet), red and blue light making black (not purple light) and other sundry items I learned in spite of, not because of, some of my teachers.

Vicki Hyde is the editor of New Zealand Science Monthly.