Ed-tech is a rapidly growing sector, with venture capital investments reaching $20.8 billion globally in 2021, which was over 40 times the amount invested in 2010. Armed with flashy apps that ‘gamify’ learning and online platforms that ‘individualize’ the classroom experience, the ed-tech industry is attempting to shoe-horn generative AI into schools, put a laptop in every child’s hands, and guarantee career progression for working adults with online micro-credentials, asserting its ability to help humans reach their full potential and narrow the achievement gap in ways that traditional education has failed—and continues to fail. Take, for example, Quizlet, a billion-dollar company that frames traditional study methods as inefficient and tedious. Its proposed solution is interactive digital flashcards and competition-inspired learning tools. Udemy, an online learning platform, presents itself as the answer to the skills gap in the job market, offering micro-credentials as career progression tools. These companies, along with many others, paint a picture of an education system in dire need of technological intervention.
As convincing as these ed-tech companies’ arguments are, however, this blog post contends that the ed-tech sector’s diagnosis of what’s wrong with education is invalid. Ed-tech companies oversimplify the complex educational challenges they claim to overcome; their proposed cures demonstrate a partial look at the issues education faces rather than a comprehensive assessment; and not only do they misdiagnose education’s problems, they peddle a false narrative that prevents others from accurately diagnosing education’s problems and implementing real solutions. You may well ask: but even if the ed-tech sector’s diagnosis is simple, partial, or harmful, surely it brings enough consideration to the table in order to be considered ‘valid’? To which I would respond: no. If we were sitting in a pub and my friend made the same, flawed arguments about education that ed-tech organizations do, I might call his diagnosis ‘valid’ because he shared them in a contemplative setting to spark further thought and conversation. By contrast, the shortcomings in the ed-tech sector’s diagnosis are not being shared in an intimate setting—their views are so well-funded and well-represented that they are shaping the public discourse surrounding education. As Plato outlines in The Republic, the truth someone finds in private contemplation must be applied rigorously when it has public consequences. Thus, the ed-tech industry’s diagnosis of education must meet a higher bar than mere opinion: to be considered ‘valid,’ its diagnosis needs to be both factual and holistic. In the following blog post, we’ll explore why the ed-tech sector’s current diagnosis fails to satisfy either criterion.
As mentioned above, the ed-tech sector’s approach to diagnosing educational tends towards oversimplifying complex issues. As Neil Selwyn points out in The discursive construction of education in the digital age, ed-tech discourses often frame educational problems in terms of outdated “industrial-era” schools that can be fixed through “innovative” use of digital technology. Ed-tech companies also employ what Selwyn calls “discourses of disruption,” presenting their products as silver bullets capable of transforming education without regard for the power dynamics at play and ignoring the nuanced realities of teaching and learning. Baicizhan, for example, a platform for Chinese English language learners, presents the problem of vocabulary learning as simply a matter of inconvenience and inefficiency, solvable through accessible digital tools and gamified exercises. While this approach may make vocabulary learning more engaging, it overlooks the complex socio-cultural factors involved in language acquisition and the varied needs of different learners. For example, learners who are not taught English at school and/or who do not have parents at home who speak English will struggle to acquire English as a second language, regardless of their access to technology, due to the necessity of language exposure as a tool for language learning. Baicizhan’s reductionist view fails to acknowledge the multifaceted nature of language acquisition, which is deeply rooted in social, cultural, and economic contexts.
As the discourse on education produced by ed-tech organizations is pervasive and potentially misleading, we should attempt to understand the sector’s diagnosis of education’s problems through different means: by examining its proposed ‘cure’ as a proxy—regardless of the impact of the prescription. The ed-tech sector’s solution, however, tends to emphasize technological solutions and ignores systemic and socioeconomic factors that significantly impact educational outcomes, demonstrating a narrow view of education’s problems. Ed-tech’s emphasis on ‘individualized learning’ and ‘twenty-first century skills’ shifts responsibility onto students and teachers while neglecting broader structural issues such as funding disparities, socioeconomic inequalities, and policy constraints. A holistic account would also encompass the history of education. However, in its rush to present itself as innovative and disruptive, ed-tech professionals often overlooks their own legacy in digital learning. Take, for example, the concept of the Skinner box, developed by behaviorist psychologist, B.F. Skinner in the 1930s. Skinner boxes are essentially early versions of programmed instruction, where learnings would receive immediate reinforcement for correct responses. Many modern ed-tech solutions, particularly those focused on gamification and instant feedback, bear a striking resemblance to these Skinner boxes. Yet behavioral psychology and action-reward principles are conspicuously absent from the narrative ed-tech advocates promote about their technology. This is much like a doctor treating a patient with a broken arm by hastily applying a cast, ignoring the fact that the patient is limping from a potentially broken leg and has a family history of osteoporosis.
The imaginaries created by the ed-tech sector play a significant role in shaping public perception of education’s problems. However, drawing on Annette Markham’s research on the limits of imagination in digital contexts, we can see how ed-tech companies employ similar patterns of “discursive closure” that effectively narrowing the scope of possible solutions to educational problems. The ed-tech sector’s narrative often embodies technological determinism, presenting digital solutions as an inevitable evolution of education. This framing creates a false dilemma: either embrace ed-tech or be left behind in an outdated system. As Markham observes, such rhetoric leads to a situation where “alternatives are limited as we repeatedly tell ourselves and others that we have no control.” This disqualifies educators, students, and communities from meaningful participation in shaping educational futures, positioning them as mere recipients of technological progress rather than active co-creators. This “discursive closure” acts like a harmful prescription masquerading as a cure. Instead of opening up possibilities for addressing deep-seated educational challenges, ed-tech’s narrative constrains our collective imagination. It prevents us from critically examining the fundamental assumptions about learning, knowledge, and the purpose of education that underlie current systems. By limiting our ability to envision radically different educational futures, ed-tech not only misdiagnoses the problems in education but also obstructs the path to finding genuine, transformative solutions.
As I draw this blog post to a close, I want to take a moment to pause and ask: why does the premise that education is fundamentally broken resonate so deeply with us? Perhaps it’s because we all, at some point, have felt let down by the system. We’ve experienced its flaws, its rigidities, its seeming inability to keep up with our rapidly changing world. In that shared frustration, the siren song of ed-tech’s promises becomes all too alluring. Education, like any human institution, is naturally imperfect. It bears the scars of historical inequities, struggles under the weight of societal expectations, and continues to falter in its noble mission of helping human beings become flourishing members of society. However, to leap from acknowledging these challenges to accepting ed-tech’s oversimplified and narrow view of education is dangerous. We must resist the easy answers and ask even harder questions: What if the problem isn’t that education hasn’t changed, but that it hasn’t been allowed to evolve organically? What if true individualized learning isn’t about adaptive software, but about diverse learning environments that honor each learner’s uniqueness? The future of education is too important to be left to those who see it primarily as a market opportunity. It’s time for educators, learners, parents, and communities to take back the reins and craft a vision of education that honors human complexity. The ed-tech sector has had its say. Now it’s our turn to imagine, innovate, and build the educational future.
(https://www.allposters.com/-sp/B-Frederic-Skinner-at-Harvard-Training-Rat-in-Skinner-Box-to-Press-Lever-and-Be-Rewarded-Posters_i3777917_.htm)
