Open Courseware, Why Not Tongji?
These past few days, Fudan University’s open courseware on NetEase has attracted a lot of attention. Judging by the comments, the positives outweigh the negatives.
http://tech.163.com/11/0407/03/710PUN8R000915BF.html
Regardless of the course quality, being the first to try this in China takes courage, and they deserve praise. As a fellow educator, I have to ask: why can’t Tongji do this too?
It’s not that we haven’t tried. We just couldn’t push it through. In 2008, I was invited to Apple’s WWDC in the US and also to UC Berkeley to hear about their use of Podcasts (essentially open courseware). When I got back, I was excited and wrote a proposal to the leadership, hoping to promote Podcasting and put our courses online. After digging through my emails, I found the original from June 24, 2008. Here it is, unedited:
[Quoted original text omitted for brevity — recounting visit to UC Berkeley’s open courseware program, proposing adoption at Tongji’s Software School, discussing potential benefits, challenges including Chinese classroom culture, faculty incentives, and regulatory issues with video hosting.]
Several years later, what’s the situation? Let me report.
My proposal probably would have gathered dust in other departments, but the Software School actually made some moves. From the Phase II 985 funding, we invested over 100,000 RMB to buy Apple’s Podcast system — several Mac Servers, Mac Pros, and a 1080P camera. The result? The video quality was terrible. According to the Apple engineer who set it up, these few crappy Servers couldn’t handle Podcasting. We needed at least a Cluster or a private Cloud to make a proper Podcast Server. To make it work, we’d need at least another 200,000 RMB invested. It felt like if you can’t afford Apple, don’t bother playing their game. I wonder why they didn’t tell us this before selling us the equipment. Damn profiteers.
And putting courses online isn’t just about setting up a server. The classrooms need to be suitable too. Poor room structure causes echoes. Bad curtains or windows make people look half-lit. Bad blackboards make the writing invisible. For good results, you need fill lighting. And then there’s the post-production team — removing coughs, flubs, sensitive words, and camera shakes. Otherwise the quality would be worse than a shaky home video, and nobody would watch. With the ceiling height in our training building, it’s a lost cause — the echo is inescapable. The school did pay to renovate one room as a dedicated Podcast studio, but just like the hardware, the money sank without a trace.
Despite the subpar conditions, we managed to record some. Then we ran into even more problems.
First, the courses weren’t engaging enough. Chinese people, probably influenced by years of watching CCTV News, think that’s how you’re supposed to act on camera. When it came time to record lectures, everyone suddenly became possessed by Luo Jing’s spirit. They taught in standard news-anchor tone: “Today is Monday, March Xth, the Xth day of the lunar month, XX days until the Shanghai Expo opening.” All the liveliness, engagement, and interactive teaching from their normal classes disappeared. It was pure news broadcasting.
Second, nobody maintained the equipment. At the start of this semester, the school’s Podcast server was hacked — infected with malware and phishing. The school even received a letter from the FBI. The reason? The Mac Server’s admin password was “apple.” When the scandal broke, everyone passed the buck. The lab center blamed the Apple Club. The Apple Club blamed the International Cooperation Office (because the Podcast room, being nicely renovated, had been lent to exchange students). The International Cooperation Office blamed the lab center. Eventually, the blame landed on a teacher who was studying abroad — problem solved, nobody was responsible. The Apple server was shut down to sleep, so it wouldn’t cause any more trouble while awake. So now the school’s Podcast system is sleeping. And while it sleeps, Fudan has beaten us to it.
This initiative failed for many reasons — money, space, and more. But the fundamental issue is the university evaluation system. By that system, open courseware is at best the icing on the cake. Nice to have, but not essential. For established academics, they might do it for fun — to avoid boredom, gain some attention, maybe become the next Yuan Tengfei. But for the majority of teachers still fighting for their livelihood, the time spent recording courses online is better spent writing papers, drafting grant proposals, or chasing research funding. Those things have real, tangible benefits for promotions and raises. Otherwise, even if your course becomes a viral hit online, you’ll still be marginalized within the university system.