“What about virtual reality?” asked a colleague with whom I shared this view. “Isn’t that going to change anything?” I replied that I didn’t think it would, except perhaps in a few specific subject areas. Like most new technologies with a powerful visible impact, its transformative power has been hyped. If you can't get your students to pay attention and learn something in a real classroom, why should it be any different in a virtual one?
The key thing which virtual reality offers is a sense of immersion in a scene, a setting or a scenario, and while immersion can be critical to some kinds of teaching and learning you don't necessarily need high technology to achieve it. People can experience immersion through text; most of us who have grown up reading books have had the experience of being so engrossed in a story that it was a wrench to return to the real world. Films too can be immersive: the effect is enhanced by a darkened room and an image that fills the field of vision but these are not essential. What matter is how good the story is; if it gets you in its grip, you can be fully immersed even when watching on a small screen – and if the story fails to grip you, even an iMax screen won’t make any difference to your lack of involvement. Computer games too can create involvement and immersion on the small screen, the focus of attention on your game character and their actions putting you in the game scene to the exclusion of the real world around you; I’ve written elsewhere how clever interactive design can enhance character identification and emotional involvement in even a highly linear and cinematic narrative game.
It all comes down to the quality of writing and design, which in the context of teaching and learning means learning design. If your aim is to put your learner into a certain environment, the fundamental design question is (as I have previously noted): what aspects of that environment are you going to simulate? (The very concept of virtual reality is flawed, to the extent that one can never simulate reality in all its aspects; one has to choose which aspects you are going to privilege.) What kind of simulation you need depends on the learning outcomes you are trying to enable. What you want to represent authentically are your chosen tasks and difficulties, with a realistic possibility of success or failure or some kind of feedback on your learners’ actions. In almost all cases, those are things that can be done without virtual reality, and probably done better without it.
For example, ‘Could you lead an ethical investigation?’ is an example of a text-only simulation, based on multiple choice questions; the technology couldn’t be simpler, but the situation could hardly be more challenging. Based on Richard Feynman’s experience after the Challenger space shuttle disaster, it places you in the role of a scientific expert on a committee of inquiry investigating a major accident. It presents you with a number of situations and for each offers you a number of choices; for example, when the Chair says that one of the organisations involved has “done an excellent” job and that they may never be able to identify the cause of the accident, do you say nothing? Accuse the Chair of bias? Ask the other committee members for their views? Ask what’s the point of the inquiry if they don’t expect to find a cause? None of these choices is absolutely right or absolutely wrong, though some would be more or less wise for yourself, and all could have more or less helpful consequences. What the simulation invites you to practise is your ethical principles, your practical knowledge of how inquiries operate, and your sensitivity to power play in the working of committees. The tests are one of judgement, which doesn’t require anything more than text. A full-blown virtual reality simulation of a committee meeting would not only be impossibly impractical to recreate, it could actually be a distraction from the focus of the learning.
But sometimes distractions and sources of confusion will be part of the challenges which you want to simulate, if the skill to be practised is one of making decisions under pressure. This simulator for medical triage, for example, puts you on a city street after some kind of explosion: sirens and alarms are going off, and there are injured or dying people on the ground all around in pools of blood, crying out and begging for help. The task is to examine each person and categorise them as Immediate, Urgent, Delayed or Dead. The shocking and alarming appearance of the scene is clearly essential to the simulation, the aim being to reproduce something of the circumstances in which paramedics may need to make triage decisions. Yet how much more would be added by presenting the scene in virtual reality? The small screen presentation using games technology (it was produced by the simulation division of a games company) already provides a considerable degree of immersion, arguably as much as is needed, short of actual practical experience.
I can only think of one simulation example for which virtual reality is essential, and that’s a fictional example from Star Trek: The Next Generation. In the episode ‘Thine Own Self’, Deanna Troi is taking the bridge officer’s test; as ship’s counsellor she already has an officer’s rank, but that is a honorary status like the rank of an army chaplain, and she wants to see if she actually has command ability. We see her in Engineering, facing a disaster and the imminent destruction of the ship. Even with Worf and Chief Engineer Georgi La Forge to help her, no matter what she does the problem gets worse until the ship blows up – and then we discover that all this, including the presence of Worf and Geordi, has been a simulation taking place on the ship’s holodeck. She tries the simulation again, and again she fails. Only when she reflects on what a colleague says about the first duty being towards the ship does she realise what she needs to do. Running the simulation one last time, she confirms with Geordi that the damage can be repaired from within a certain crawl way, though the radiation there will be fatal to whoever attempts it. Looking him straight in the eyes, she orders him to enter the crawl way and repair the damage – and that turns out to be the solution. The simulation isn’t a test of engineering knowledge but of command ability: whether the officer can, if the situation requires it, order a friend and colleague to their death.
Now that is something which couldn’t be simulated by a multiple-choice test, or by a cinematic presentation no matter how immersive. And this example is actually not that extreme: most of us will not be in an occupation where we might have to order a person to their death, but if we are a doctor we may very well have to give a patient bad news, and if we are a manager we may very well have to give an employee the sack, or to call them out for poor attendance or poor work. The difficult part is not deciding what needs to be done or thinking of the words to say, but saying them to another human being, standing in front of you in the same space. And to simulate that would be a good use of virtual reality.
(And then again, one could just simulate it through role play, as the best training for doctors and managers does today!)
