In 1981 the Labour MP George Foulkes drafted the ‘Control of Space Invaders (and other electronic games) Bill’ because he thought it was addictive and causing deviant behaviour. The bill was defeated – but by only 20 votes in the House of Commons.Mr Foulkes was obviously very persuasive in his speech about the effects of games on the young:

“They play truant, miss meals, and give up other normal activity to play “space invaders”. They become crazed, with eyes glazed, oblivious to everything around them, as they play the machines. It is difficult to appreciate unless one has seen it for oneself. I suggest that right hon. and hon. Members who have not seen it should go incognito to an arcade or café in their own areas and see the effect that it is having on young people.”

It’s tempting to laugh, but recall that there are still serious voices urging control over childrens’ use of video games or online access in general. Anybody who watches children using online resources either in play or study will know how enormous the potential is for their learning and creativity. Of course, most schools ban mobile use and constrain use of social media and  internet access, and there are obvious risks to be managed, but it means that the enormous potential is untapped.

For the first chapter or so of [amazon_link id=”1909979015″ target=”_blank” ]Open[/amazon_link] by David Price, I was disappointed, although (because?) it had been praised so enormously by people I respect. The first part sets out the case that we are churning out mass produced children for the post-industrial age, and it isn’t working. The children are as bored as can be, the testing and league tables distort incentives for schools and discourage them from innovating, and by the time they get to 18 young people have been drilled into expecting to be told whatever they need to know to jump through the next hoop. No politician can risk being honest about this. Of course, this is all true. But it’s been known for years, decades even. (I even wrote about it myself in 2001.)

[amazon_image id=”1909979015″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Open: How we’ll work, live and learn in the future[/amazon_image]

But before long, I was thoroughly enjoying this book. Part of the enjoyment comes from agreeing so wholeheartedly with what David Price has to say about the need for a complete re-engineering of so many organisations – schools and businesses so that they face outwards, engage with all relevant communities, and above all enable their students or employees to become creative and enthusiastic learners. Schools in particular are set up to do exactly the opposite – testing of individuals is seen as the only way to measure educational success yet it actively discourages collaboration, a key skill in the workplace.

Price urges readers to just get on with remodelling their organisations. “We are beginning to realise that we don’t have to wait for those who govern locally or nationally to act on our behalf. We now have the means to act autonomously.” Of course there are constraints – schools have to jump over the league table and testing hurdles. But there’s scope to just go ahead and remodel the approach to learning beyond that.

The book touches on MOOCs, quoting Arthur C Clarke: “Teachers who can be replaced by a machine should be.” Price, like me, believes that some successors to today’s MOOCs will overturn universities in the way file-sharing did for albums and the record industry. Universities are vital civic and educational institutions but they will need to find new delivery models both in what they offer online and what they offer face-to-face.

There are lots of examples of open organisations in [amazon_link id=”1909979015″ target=”_blank” ]Open[/amazon_link]. I was especially struck by a quotation from Patrick McKenna of Ingenious Media: “We give a lot of our knowledge away… The reason we don’t worry about giving that knowledge away is because most people can’t implement what they know. The capital value of something these days is the ability to implement it rather than to create it originally.” This is a profound point with lots of implications.

Finally, the book notes the disjuncture between life and politics: “If schools are coming directly into competition with the learning opportunities available in the informal social space, it has to be said that this is a pressure which barely registers within the political discourse. The gaping hole in the middle of the public debate on schooling is that we can’t even agree on what schools are actually for.” Preparation for jobs? Child development? National economic competitiveness? Civic cohesion? Policy mushes all of these together and compels children to find their own way through the obstacle course in between them and the thrill of learning. Anybody with a teenager will know how thoroughly they’ve had all the enthusiasm beaten out of them by a decade of compulsory schooling for tests.

The book is slightly prone to educationalese but it’s very clearly written. Even if you start out agreeing – as I do – the many examples are interesting and useful. I’ll be giving this book to quite a few people, I think.

As a final treat, it introduced me to this fabulous course.