Technical Communication and Training: How Similar Are They?

How similar are technical communication and training?  Although some characterize the two as nearly identical, a closer look at their occupational cultures suggests several subtle, but significant, differences exist.  

My recent article, Different Approaches to Similar Challenges: An Analysis of the Occupational Cultures of the Disciplines of Technical Communication and Training, published in the second quarter 2012 issue of the IEEE Transactions on Professional Communication, explores these differences.  

Here’s the abstract of the article:

Problem:  Perhaps it is presumptuous of Technical Communicators to assume that, because some of their skills that might be employed in developing and delivering training materials, that those skills alone are qualifications to work in training, much less the source by which the processes of Training might be examined.  Using data from one survey and one interview-based studies of the work of Technical Communication and Training groups, as well as participation on committees responsible for certification examinations for Technical Communicators and Trainers, this tutorial analyzes differences in the occupational cultures of the two fields.
Key Concepts:  The work differs: Technical Communicators produce content that explains how to perform tasks; trainers produce programs that develop skills that a third party can verify.  To do so, Technical Communicators follow a process that emphasizes writing and production; Trainers follow a process that emphasizes the analysis of intended goals and evaluation of whether those goals have been achieved.  The guiding philosophy of Technical Communication is usability; the guiding philosophy of Training is performance.  Although both disciplines are rooted in cognitive psychology, the primary intellectual roots of Technical Communication are in rhetoric and composition, while the primary intellectual roots are in education.  The preferred research methods of Technical Communication are critical; the preferred research methods of Trainers are empirical qualitative and quantitative methods.
Key Lessons: As a result, Technical Communication professionals and researchers who want to work in Training should approach the field in a culturally appropriate way by (1) recognizing distinctions between a communication product and a training program, (2) recognizing distinctions in work processes, (3) recognizing distinctions in language, (4) recognizing differences in values and (5) acknowledging that an academic discipline of training exists.  

To see the complete article, visit http://ieeexplore.ieee.org/xpl/RecentIssue.jsp?punumber=47.  (Note: Only free to members of the IEEE Professional Communication Society and to those entering through university libraries with a subscription to IEEExplore.)

Order Books, Including Informal Learning Basics

Informal Learning Basics	e-Learning Handbook	Training Design Basics
Advanced Web-based Training	Designing E-Learning	Techniques for Technical Communicators
Information And Document Design: Varieties on Recent Research (2nd edition)		An Overview of Online Learning (2nd edition)

A New Book Is on the Way

Informal Learning Basics, my newest book from ASTD Press, should hit bookshelves at the end of May. 

This book, which explores one of the hottest topics in training today, describes how training and development and other Human Resources professionals can better harness informal learning.  By some accounts, informal learning—in which learners define some combination of the process, location, purpose, and content of learning and may or may not be conscious that learning occurred—provides as much as 70 percent of all learning in the workplace with little or no involvement of training and development professionals.   

So readers have realistic expectations and plans for the application of informal learning in the workplace, the book first describes how informal learning works and identifies how to use it effectively at key touch points in the life cycle of a job.  Then, to help readers harness the power of informal learning, this book describes how readers can support 22 specific types of group and individual informal learning,  how social, enterprise and other instructional technologies can assist in those efforts, and how to evaluate informal learning.  Each chapter includes exercises that help readers apply the concepts presented in the book and worksheets that readers can use when planning informal learning efforts in their organizations.

Keep checking this blog for updates on the publication.  

Avoid Making Assumptions That Backfire When Writing e-Learning Content

Check out Avoid Making Assumptions  That Backfire!, recently published online in Learning Solutions Magazine.

The article explores three of the most common assumptions that instructional designers make when writing—about knowledge, feelings, and culture—and suggest how to avoid them.  It is the first of several I am writing for that magazine that explores issues in writing e-learning programs.  

Visit this link to see the entire article: http://www.learningsolutionsmag.com/articles/833/avoid-making-assumptions-that-backfire.

Avoiding Assumptions When Writing

..most books on writing and instructional design emphasize the importance of knowing your learners — not on the use of that knowledge in the choice of sentences and phrases to avoid offending them...

Check out my new article on avoiding assumptions in writing in Learning Solutions Magazine at http://www.learningsolutionsmag.com/articles/833/avoid-making-assumptions-that-backfire?utm_campaign=lsmag&utm_medium=email&utm_source=lsm-news

The Death of the Lecture?

A New Year's Day story by American Public Media focuses on the disappearance of the lecture as a teaching tool in physics.  Reporter Emily Hanford specifically quotes physics education innovators Eric Mazur and  Joe Redish (whose wife is one of my mentors).  

They talk about the end of the lecture and the rise of the interactive classroom, which promotes discussion, discovery, and clarification as key elements of teaching.  In some cases, they advocate for recorded lectures to clearly and effectively communicate concepts. 

Some people see this as the death of the lecture.  

I'm not sure I'd be so quick to rush to that conclusion.

Such classrooms are as driven by instructors as the all-talk classroom.  What differentiates these classrooms, however, is that the instructors share the podium with their students and engage them in conversations and inquiry with one another during the class lesson.

More fundamentally, these instructors seem to go to the inconvenience of planning their lessons and investing considerable thought about not only what they want to cover (which seems to be the traditional approach) but how, and seem similarly concerned about which techniques ultimately result in the highest level of retention among their students.  

See the article at http://www.npr.org/2012/01/01/144550920/physicists-seek-to-lose-the-lecture-as-teaching-tool

User-Generated Documentation 

One trend that garners the attention of many instructional designers and  technical communicators is that of content generated by people other than us.  We typically face two major competitors to our work:  

Subject Matter Experts (SMEs), whose have an in-depth knowledge of the content and save time on translating it for communicators by writing the material themselves 

Users and learners, who have hands-on experience with the content and can offer real-world perspectives on ways that people actually use the content in the context of their jobs and lives

For the purpose of this article, I'll refer to contributions by both groups as user-generated documentation, even though the technical term for the first category is SME-generated documentation. 

Like many technical writers, Malobika Khanra and Debarshi Gupta Biswas 

authors of User-Generated Content: Embracing Social Networking to Deliver More Engaging Technical Documentation,   (UX Matters, 

http://www.uxmatters.com/mt/archives/2010/04/user-generated-content-embracing-social-networking-to-deliver-more-engaging-technical-documentation.php). 

primarily focus on the advantages of user-generated documentation, noting that it is an inevitable byproduct of a Web 2.0 world, democratizes content and offers broader perspectives on the content than possible by technical communicators alone.  They note that technical communicators still play a role in publishing user-generated content, calling that role a content curator. 

One of the tools for producing user-generated content is the template, which guides users through the process of preparing content on their own.  In Are You Tempted to Use a Template to Expedite Policy & Procedure Development (http://www.urgoconsulting.com/enewsletter/2011_Nov-Dec/template-policy-and-procedure-development.php), policies and procedures expert Raymond Urgo distinguishes among the different types of templates available:

Content, which presents a fill-in-the-blank form that not only addresses formatting issues, but also prompts authors to provide particular types of content in a particular order--and use  particular headings to signal that content to readers.  

Mechanical, which primarily assists with formatting.

Pre-written, which contains most of the text needed on a particular topic, prompting users to replace certain types of things.

Urgo notes that none of these templates guide their users through the foundational process of analyzing users and their needs and, as a result, using these templates might speed up the production of content, but the content might fail to actually meet the needs of its intended users. 

This problem of analysis is also raised by Khanra and Biswas, who note that instructional designers and technical communicators often do not conduct a full audience analysis.  

The same pressures driving people to use templates are the ones presumed to prevent instructional designers and technical communicators from conducting audience analyses:  pressures to reduce costs and time to publication.  

But in many cases, the problem is more fundamental.  In some organizations, instructional designers and technical communicators are actively prevented from gaining access to users; only marketing representatives and a few select members of the product development team have such access.  

Worse, when confronted with such situations, instructional designers and technical communicators merely complain that they don't have It's that someone actively prevents access to users.  They don't push to gain access or, at the least, to talk directly to those people who do have access.  

For example, I once had a student--a professional technical communicator--who was supposed to do an audience analysis in her work environment for her class project.  She said she could not do so because her company prevented it.  I said that she should then speak to the people who do have access to users to get this information; previously she relied solely on product specifications and internal marketing plans for information.

She did so--and the experience was enlightening.  The documentation on which she relied was misleading; they described the intended markets and users for her products.  After speaking with the people who had direct access to users, she learned that the primary audience assumed for the product was actually a secondary one, the group assumed to be a secondary audience was merely a tiny population, and that the primary market was one that was not even on her radar.  

User-generated content has its value, but it is not vetted content.  

That vetting is the value added by instructional designers and technical communicators.  But we don't bring much value unless we truly do the vetting--and push to gain the broad, practical perspective that SMEs lack because of technical focus, and users lack because of their one-environment-only focus.  

Perhaps the best advantage of user-generated documentation is that it keeps us on our toes.  

Of Complexity, Ignorance, and Educators

Now here’s a scary thought:

“The less people know about important complex issues such as the economy, energy consumption and the environment, the more they want to avoid becoming well-informed, according to new research published by the American Psychological Association. “

So reads a press release about a recently published study that explores the links between awareness of social issues and dependence on and trust in government.   Researchers at the University of Western Ontario and other universities reached these conclusions following a series of studies in the US and Canada.   

Researchers presented participants with simple and complex descriptions of the same problem and found that people reading the more complex description felt higher levels of helplessness.  One of the conclusions that co-researcher Aaron C. Kay, reported was that:

“people tend to respond by psychologically ‘outsourcing’ the issue to the government”   

So what does this mean for educators, especially those who teach complex issues and like to emphasize critical thinking?  The authors suggest:  

“Beyond just downplaying the catastrophic, doomsday aspects to their messages, educators may want to consider explaining issues in ways that make them easily digestible and understandable, with a clear emphasis on local, individual-level causes.” 

To learn more, check out Ignorance Is Bliss When it Comes to Challenging Social Issues at  http://www.apa.org/news/press/releases/2011/11/ignorance.aspx. 

Check Out My Interview on Digital Life

I discuss technology for education on the Digital Life Show, 2:30 today, with co-host (and former student) Reisa Levine.


Broadcast at 102.3FM Montreal or http://thedigitallifeshow.com.


The podcast remains at the website indefinitely.  

Reflections on Museums 4: Lessons for Information Architecture from Museum Building Layouts

After visiting about the tenth museum in as many days, I realized a couple of things:  some museums really frustrated either my partner or me because we couldn’t easily move from one place to the next.  That’s because we could do so easily in other museums.

That frustration inspired me, in turn, to reflect on the floor plans of different museums.  Some were designed for true free choice learning—easily letting visitors go in and out of exhibits.  Others were surprisingly directive, providing visitors with limited flexibility in choosing which exhibits to see or how to go through the exhibitions.  And others provided varying degrees of flexibility between these two extremes.

Then I started to think about why some museums afforded more flexibility than others.  In some instances, it may have been the controlling tendencies of the museum designers.  In many instances, the museum building either promoted or hindered flexibility.  The level of flexibility did not seem to solely result from whether the museum was housed in a purpose-built building (that is, a building specifically designed to be a museum or in a building that was originally designed for another purpose, but ended up as a museum).

The flexibility also seemed to result from the vision of the museum designers. Some knew how to keep visitors always moving; some led visitors to dead ends and had no idea of how to lead visitors out of those dead ends.

And that, in turn, caused me to reflect not only on recurring themes in the layout of museums, but because the layout of a museum is, in many ways, a parallel issue to the structure of websites and e-learning programs, I also wondered what lessons could be transferred from museum layout to the architecture of websites and e-learning programs.

Here’s the recurring patterns I observed and what they mean to information and learning architects.

At one extreme is the total free-choice structure, in which visitors enter a central gallery and have easy access to all of the permanent exhibitions from the entry way.  Although visitors might be able to move directly from one exhibition to the next, the exhibition layout usually directs visitors back to the center hallway so the visitor can choose any exhibition to visit next, rather than the one next door.

This is the pattern used in the Musee de la Civilization in Quebec City, the Musee Nationale des Beaux Arts du Quebec, Royal Ontario Museum, Art Gallery of Ontario, Hagia Sofia, Musee d’Orsay, Pera Museum, Musical Instrument Museum in Berlin, Museu d’Historia de Catalunya, Museo de Historia de Valencia, Poble Espanyol, and the Canadian Museum of Nature (not yet reviewed).

In terms of general websites, this is the pattern followed by most company brochureware and the standard-issue short tutorial of a few hours or less. Both types of online materials greet visitors from a home page or main menu, from which visitors can choose a limited number of options.  When they finish with their choice, they usually return to the home page or menu, and proceed to the next choice.  Sequence numbers can imply an order, but do not require it.

At the other extreme is the required linear model, which requires that visitors go through an exhibition in a prescribed order—and only in that prescribed order.  This was the structure followed by the Museum of the Inquisition in Lima (in fact, the tour guide was upset when I tried to go back and re-read things afterwards) and the main Palace of Versailles.  In some instances, the decision to force visitors to follow the designated path results from a desire to control the flow of information, as in the case of the Museum of the Inquisition.  Visitors might only choose to see the gruesome torture chamber, but designers needed for visitors to understand the context that drove officials to conduct the torture.  Other museums choosing a linear pattern for similar reasons included Story of Berlin, Choco-Story and el Museo de Traje.

In some instances, the only logical traffic pattern is linear, as in la Catedral de La Familia Sagrada and La Pedrera.  In other instances, the requirement that visitors follow a prescribed structure addresses other practical issues.  For example, in the heavily trafficked Chateau de Versailles, moving crowds in a particular path could help control crowds.

In terms of designing websites and e-learning programs, the required linear model makes sense when visitors or learners need prerequisite information before they can perform some other task.  As a result, visitors might not have access to the subsequent task unless they have learned about (websites)—or demonstrated competence with (learning programs) the prerequisite content.  Such structures are often followed by blended learning programs, which often require learners to study the basic terminology and processes of a topic before they can use equipment or participate in role plays later.  This ensures that they have basic knowledge.

In other instances, designers might choose a required linear model because they are concerned that too many visitors might overload a website and cause it to crash (although this is a rare concern).

Between the extremes of free-choice and linear layouts, exists various middle approaches, providing visitors with some flexibility in how they choose exhibitions. In some instances, the designers want to provide visitors with extensive flexibility, but the design of the museum building places limits on that goal.  In the case of the Canadian Museum of Civilization, visitors are directed to a three-story atrium, which—from the visitor’s perspective—is the entryway to all exhibitions. In reality, a central hallway on the lower two levels separates exhibitions and actually provides far more flexibility for choosing, but is hidden from the view of most visitors.

In contrast, although all exhibitions in the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Art in Istanbul are accessed through a central hallway, which opens onto a central courtyard, traffic patterns require that visitors enter the central hallway at one side, thus giving preference to a particular order of visiting exhibitions, rather than providing as much free choice as the core layout might provide.  Similarly, the Deutsches Historiches Museum has a central courtyard and could easily provide access to any point in the exhibition, but chooses to close off some of the free choice through the placement of walls, and close off the rest of the choice by having guards direct visitors to a pre-selected starting point.  In contrast, the Musee de Quai Branly uses signage and traffic design to force visitors in a particular path, though it actually has a central atrium of sorts through which visitors could choose any of the four permanent exhibitions to visit.

Some museums are designed within the spirit of free choice, but the limitations of their structures also limit their abilities to provide actual choice to their visitors.  For example, because of expansions over the years, el Prado cannot provide access to all of its exhibitions off of a central hallway because expansions to the facility prevented that, adding space wherever it was physically available.  (Even the new addition only addresses some of the problem..)   The museum staff tries to make the most of this limitation by purposely placing  some of the more popular exhibitions at the ends of the museum—like the Goya galleries—to give visitors a chance to experience the work of artists who might not be as well known to them (much like grocery stores place milk at the back of the store so shoppers have to walk through all of the other products that might not place so highly on their shopping lists).  The tiny Textile Museum of Canada faces similar challenges in space as the Prado; they do not afford perfect access to exhibitions though the staff tries to provide visitors as much choice as space provides.

The situation is a bit more awkward at the Musee des Arts Decoratifs.  Although the bulk of the collection follows a free choice model, the galleries housing the twentieth century decorative arts collections are on the upper floors at the far end of one wing of the building.  Access is only available through a separate set of elevators at the edge of one exhibition on the fifth floor of the exhibition. The exhibition space is amazing, but its nearly invisible entry point creates challenges.  Designers successfully use signage to mitigate some of the problem.

The situation is more acute at the Musee des Arts et Metiers, because the nature of the exhibitions easily lend themselves to a free choice model, but the design of the historic building in which the collections are housed—a former priory—demands a linear design.

In some cases, the layout was merely confusing, as was the case with MUVIM and the Applied Arts Museum in Berlin.  In the case of MUVIM, exhibitions did not even to be physically accessible to one another and, in the case of the one we visited, the main lobby itself.  IN the case of the Applied Arts Museum in Berlin, the atrium provides the illusion of free choice but provides no guidance into the extent of the collection on display in any of the levels.

Some museums provide free choice access to exhibitions, but once inside the exhibition, traffic patterns were decidedly linear.  This was the case in the Topkapi Palace as well as the Musee d’Art et d’Histoire du Judaisme and the Museo Nacional in Lima.  

The realities that drive the floor plans also drive the structures of websites.  Most books advising  information architects, information designers, and instructional designers suggest a preference for the free-choice pattern while acknowledging the occasional utility of the linear pattern.

What most ignore, however, are the middle approaches taken by information architects, information designers, and instructional designers.  In most instances, the similar reasons driving museum designers to take middle approaches drive information architects, information designers, and instructional designers.  In some cases, they want to provide free choice access to all parts of a website or course, but because of a required splash page or similar opening sequence, cannot. In some instances, these required opening sequences are part of the requirements of the project; in other instances, they’re the brain children of the designers. Many real estate sites follow this structure, as do tutorials that require learners to take a “how to take this tutorial” sequence before presenting the main menu.

In some cases, especially websites and tutorials that are revisions to existing materials, new material is merely an extension of the existing material.  Sometimes cost, sometimes schedule, and sometimes attachment to the existing structure prevent information architects, information designers, and instructional designers from doing anything more than tacking the new material onto the end of the old.  In some cases, designers can follow the lead of the Prado—and use the lure of the new material to maintain interest as visitors go through the old material.

In other instances, information architects, information designers, and instructional designers can only tack the material onto the end of an existing page, and hope that other pointers and signs and links on the website help visitors find that new material.  This usually happens when new policies and procedures are added but not accessible from a home page or similar starting point.  This also happens when online lessons are updated with new units.  It’s also a problem with some museum websites, where visitor information is not easily accessible from the home page—and none of the options  available suggest where visitors might even find it.  In many instances, the extent of visitor information provided grew to several pages.

And in some instances, the result is downright confusing to visitors and learners, as happens with some organizational websites.  

Because most guidelines for developing websites and tutorials were developed for new sites and courses, information architects, information designers, and instructional designers may not be aware of the compromises they are making to their original designs when they substantially revise the sites.  Furthermore, information architects, information designers, and instructional designers often believe that changes in navigation patterns resulting from a revision carry through to the entire site, but often remnants of the old navigation patterns remain and leave the potential to create confusion among visitors and learners.  

Next post:  The Challenges of Displaying Difficult Material. 

Reflections on Museums 3: Different Ways of Learning from Museums

In their extended study of museum visitors, Falk and Dierking found that people can learn a lot from museums, but they often learned a lot about subjects they were already interested in.  And perhaps there’s some truth in that.

When reflecting on our visits to museums, I realized that existing interests played a key role in choosing which museums we visited, as well as what we saw in them.  In some cases, we both had an interest in seeing a museum, like le Musee des Arts Decoratifs in Paris.  In other instances, the interests of one of us drove the choice of museum and the other acquiesced, such as my partner’s interest in seeing el Museo de Traje (clothing) in Spain and my interest in seeing the history museums in every city we visited.  Similarly, within museums, our interests drove our choice of exhibitions to visit.  In the Neues Museum in Berlin, we visited Nefertiti’s bust because of my partner’s interest, just as we chose to visit the galleries on the early history of Berlin in the Story of Berlin because of my interest in that subject.

What I also observed, however, was that the interest of one partner helped inspire interest in the other.  My partner’s interest in clothing and Nefertiti drove mine.  I probably acquired more new knowledge than him in these instances because my knowledge base was likely more limited than his.  By the same token, my partner acquired much more basic knowledge about the history of Berlin and Germany because I had more than he did.  In those instances, the more knowledgeable partner still learned, but it was fill-in knowledge, filling in holes in our existing knowledge bases.

More than the subject, I also observed that each of us took advantage of different learning resources offered by the museums.  To gain factual knowledge, my partner preferred the audio guides while I preferred the labels.

Part of this preference was practical; his native language is Spanish and all museums offered audio guides in his native language but few labels.  In contrast, my native language is English and most museums offered labels in my language.

The other practical consideration is speed; one can read more quickly than one can listen.  I found this true even when I read labels in Spanish and French, which are not my native languages and which I cannot read as quickly as English.

That said, I also learned that the information available from labels did not match that provided by the audio guides.  In any given instance, one provided more extensive information, though which channel did so varied among institutions.

We rarely took advantage of human tour guides except when required.  Once again, this was practical.  In some instances, tours were not available.  When they were, we could only take tours when they were scheduled, which often conflicted with our plans.  Or the tours were not conducted in languages we could easily understand.  Part of this is a self-service orientation; we prefer to do things on our own.

But when we did follow a tour guide, we found that they added a depth of knowledge not available in either the labels or audio guides.

Most of the museums also offered touch screen computers, with access to additional content about the exhibitions and their objects; we almost never used them.  In some instances, that resulted from the line-ups at the computers.  In other instances, the computers were slow or not working.  And that formed our attitudes.

One exception was the history museum in Valencia, where the computers presented acted out scenes from history in viewers’ choices of Spanish or English. I watched some of these, but because of the same time consideration as with audio guides, did not watch many.

I observed other visitors and noted that some would tour together, stop and discuss an object or case, then move on; others went at their own pace and occasionally joined one another (our plan), some read most or all of the labels (like me) while others concentrated more on the objects themselves (my partner).

And the two saw and learned different things. My partner would often mention something to me and I’d wonder where he had seen it, because he saw something I missed.  That wouldn’t be so bad, but because I read so closely, I thought I had been a thorough visitor.  I was fooling myself.

For designers of online and informal learning programs, these observations suggest many take-away issues:

• When given a choice, people will choose what interests them the most.
• To expand the horizon of choices, note that people will accompany friends and follow their suggestions—at first to be polite, but they often benefit from the choice.  
• In such situations, the two learners do not learn the same things because they’re working with different bases of knowledge.   
• Given a choice of learning media, people will choose the medium that best suits their preferences and needs.  
• Unless the design of the content on those different media is coordinated (it usually is not—the two are likely designed by different people at different times), the material presented will differ.  As a result, what people learn will differ depending on their choice of medium.  
• Even when visiting the same space, however, different learners will approach that space differently (some read, some look, some discuss).  As a result, even when the learning experience is designed to cover a single body of material, when people approach it in their own way, they each see different things.  Those differences go beyond different perspectives; different visitors see entirely different things.  One person will see something the other misses and vice versa.  

In terms of informal learning, what this means is that it’s only useful if we don’t care about the specifics that people learn.  But if we do care, then informal learning might not be most appropriate because each person leaves having had experienced different content, much less with a different understanding of the subject.  For building a basic body of knowledge, informal learning probably doesn’t make much sense.   It prevents people from building the common basis of knowledge that permits knowledgeable participation in a conversation.

For building a personalized base of knowledge, as is necessary for building expertise, informal learning is terrific because it allows a person to tailor knowledge to his or her own needs.  And because the learner is constantly tailoring knowledge to his or her own needs, they’re also choosing what they don’t learn—and that’s always something to learn later.  Perhaps that’s why true experts always say that they don’t know anything about the field.  They know what they’ve chosen not to learn yet.  That they can label what they don’t know is what makes them experts.  

Next post:  Lessons for information architecture from the spatial design of museums.