Flexknowlogy – Jared Stein's ARCHIVED blog – update to jaredstein.org

This article is an attempt to objectively define the phrase “creepy treehouse” as coined by Chris Lott, and in current usage by ed tech folks such as Scott Leslie, Marc Hugentobler, John Krutsch, and others. I plan to follow up with a post on my perspective on CTH in the field of educational technology.

creepy treehouse

see also creepy treehouse effect

n. A place, physical or virtual (e.g. online), built by adults with the intention of luring in kids.

Example: “Kids … can see a [creepy treehouse] a mile away and generally do a good job in avoiding them.” John Krutsch in Are You Building a Creepy Treehouse?”

n. Any institutionally-created, operated, or controlled environment in which participants are lured in either by mimicking pre-existing open or naturally formed environments, or by force, through a system of punishments or rewards.

Such institutional environments are often seen as more artificial in their construction and usage, and typically compete with pre-existing systems, environments, or applications. creepy treehouses also have an aspect of closed-ness, where activity within is hidden from the outside world, and may not be easily transferred from the environment by the participants.

n. Any system or environment that repulses a target user due to it’s closeness to or representation of an oppressive or overbearing institution.

n. A situation in which an authority figure or an institutional power forces those below him/her into social or quasi-social situations.

With respect to education, Utah Valley University student Tyrel Kelsey describes, “creepy treehouse is what a professor can create by requiring his students to interact with him on a medium other than the class room tools. [E.g.] requiring students to follow him/her on peer networking sites such as Twitter or Facebook.”

adj. Repulsiveness arising from institutional mimicry or emulation of pre-existing community-driven environments or systems.

Example: “Blackboard Sync is soooo creepy treehouse.” Marc Hugentobler

In the field of educational technology a creepy treehouse is an institutionally controlled technology/tool that emulates or mimics pre-existing technologies or tools that may already be in use by the learners, or by learners’ peer groups. Though such systems may be seen as innovative or problem-solving to the institution, they may repulse some users who see them as infringement on the sanctity of their peer groups, or as having the potential for institutional violations of their privacy, liberty, ownership, or creativity. Some users may simply object to the influence of the institution.

I’ve been observing this phenomena increasingly, as instructors push down hot Web 2.0 technologies, while students push back with vocal objections or passive resistance. I call this the creepy treehouse effect.

More directly, any move to integrate or aggregate new institutional tools or systems with pre-existing tools or systems already embraced by the community may be seen as creepy treehouse, in as much as it may be construed as institutional infringement upon the social or professional community of it’s participants.

For example, the Blackboard family of learning management system products are often seen as creepy treehouses, as they provide e-learning tools in a very rigid, closed environment that is institutionally controlled in an attempt to “engage” students through technological novelty or mimicry of existing Web-based tools for social engagement. Increasingly, learning management systems are incorporating what educators assess as being potentially valuable learning tools such as blogs, wikis, social bookmarking, instant messaging, etc., not recognizing that these tools may be seen as artificial, meaningless, tiresome, temporary, or simply another aspect of The Man by the institution’s target participant group: the students.

At the same time, other LMS tools that are more exclusively related to the traditional activity of teaching (e.g. gradebooks, online quizzing, material posting, etc) are not viewed as inherently creepy treehouse. Tyrel Kelsey suggests:

Students reject creepy treehouses for one reason: they are creepy. I think a better approach to education is the idea of a Personal Learning Environment (PLE) … which [students] can invite the professor into when they feel comfortable doing so.

In Students should build their own tree house

Creepy treehouses are not limited to the realm of education or educational technology. In the computer software environment, for instance, Microsoft Office Live is likely to be judged as creepy treehouse relative to Google Docs & Spreadsheets and Zoho, not due entirely to it’s competitiveness or the relative similarities of the products, but more to the origination of the software: Microsoft is often seen as a controlling, soulless, self-centered institution, whereas Zoho and Google are seen as not only preceding Microsoft Live, but also open, user-centered, community-driven, or alternative.

Opinions in the community as to the creepy treehouse-ness of a given system or environment may vary greatly due to the subjectiveness of individual experiences. I expect that newly introduced tools, systems, or environments are more likely to be suspect and labeled “creepy treehouse”, though over time such systems may prove to have more salient long-term value to the community than anticipated.

Writing is fun. Writing is fundamental. If you don’t write, you don’t know what you think. Jeffrey Zeldman on Twitter

In the spirit of knowing what I think as Zeldman so aptly puts it, and adequately preparing myself at what is essentially the starting line of this blog: My intention for this ‘blog is to lay out, as frequently as time allows, commentary on (and hopefully arguments for or against) new and emerging theories and practices related to the field of educational technology. I am keenly interested in how humans learn best, and how technology can improve that learning by increasing efficiency and enhancing pleasure.

My intention is to challenge assumptions–both yours and mine, to force myself towards objectivity as much as is possible, and to entertain as many sides of an issue as possible. This does not mean my explorations will attend to all sides of an issue, only that, through my own thinking and our engagement in dialogue, many sides of an issue can be explored or examined. That’s the point of the Internet, no?

Having said that, though it may not enhance my reputation, it certainly can’t hurt to be above-board and describe some of the philosophical nodes from which I tend to operate. I do this more for my own benefit than for the benefit of any of my readers; following a discussion with a pair of much-respected colleagues that ended up getting close to the heat, I asked myself, “What are the beliefs that underpin your approach to analyzing and implementing teaching practices?”

I believe in scientific realism, and tend to favor arguments that are backed up by empirical evidence.

I believe in the powerful utility of logic, and have little respect for arguments that don’t at least try to adhere to the fundamentals of logic, that is, valid arguments consisting of sound premises that lead us to conclusions, though those conclusions may not always be tidy.

These are the tools which I employ (though perhaps crudely at times) to evaluate teaching theories and practices.

I am not afraid to state that I try to live my life guided by a philosophy of moral objectivism. I have no use for any sort of dogmatic relativism which allows serious dialogue to discombobulate into a failure to attach meaning to language. Which leads us to the fact that I am generally conservative in my mindset–a concept which I find frustrates or confuses some of my colleagues who may unfortunately think that conservatism = closed-minded-ness, resistance to progress, or religious fanaticism. In their true form I abhor all of these. On the contrary, while at its core conservatism means favoring gradual change over radical change, recognizing the value of “how we’ve done things” for the measurable fruits we currently enjoy, my orientation towards scientific realism provides me with ample reason to continually reassess my beliefs and correct my practices based on new evidence.

So in a nutshell, I believe that there is objective truth, and I believe we can get at it through analytical, science-based approaches. This relates to teaching because every time we teach we are practicing a skill that is guided by our theories and shaped by our philosophies, whether we know it or not. Many of us do not know what directs our teaching, but that does not make it directionless.

When I think about my students, I put myself in their shoes. I think of the time I as a student am investing. I think of the money I am investing. I critically assess the value of the teaching and the learning. To horribly mangle in paraphrase Harold Bloom I’ve concluded, “Life is Too Short for Bad Classes.” (Which must be allowed to explain, in part, my habitual absenteeism in high school and college!)

And so I scrutinize new “engaging” approaches to teaching and learning as much as I scrutinize the old “boring” approaches. I scrutinize the time wasted on technology usage as much as I scrutinize the time wasted on flat lecture. I see no point in discarding the old if the new hasn’t proven itself better.

There you have it. Now that that exposition’s off my chest I feel much more comfortable tackling some of the hot ed tech topics that make my mind swirl. Every day I walk into the office and find myself echoing Dave Bowman in 2001: A Space Odyssey who finally enters the mysterious black monolith and gasps, “…Oh my God, it’s full of stars!”