Learning How to Think

By Shinae Park, science department chair

It may be counterintuitive, but an understanding of physics is not the ultimate goal of the physics course that I teach. In our classroom, physics is primarily the means by which we internalize a new way of thinking, by using experimentation, reasoning, discussion, and math to approach problems in creative ways. As such, physics class is not just for students who intend to study physics or science in college. It is for anyone who wants to practice learning how to think.

Students have opportunities to experience some of the best parts of science – the struggle for understanding that culminates in the joy of discovery, the camaraderie of a fruitful collaboration, and the application of reason to explain the mysteries of the universe. Science is not just about answers; it is an ongoing process of discovery. This is what makes the Harkness style such a meaningful way to teach science.

Harkness encourages active, collaborative learning. Students use labs, demos, and group discussions to wrestle with the evidence and make their own realizations. In the science department at Lawrenceville, we endeavor to introduce students to both the beautiful simplicity and intriguing complexity of the world to foster a life-long curiosity about the world in which they live. We aim to do this by providing an environment where students are encouraged to explore ideas and make connections with their peers and with the world around them.

There is a tradeoff here, of course. Being given answers is quick and confidence-boosting, and you can cover a lot of ground this way. Discovery is slow. It is uncomfortable and requires vulnerability as students make mistakes publicly on the way to consensus. It involves mental dexterity as students are asked to define concepts revealed in labs before being given the proper scientific terminology. Students often feel frustrated with the lack of certainty, where natural laws are a best guess based on available evidence rather than textbook-given immutable truth. But this process is what leads to deeper learning, and this consensus amidst uncertainty is our closest classroom approximation to real scientific practice. We want to allow students the freedom and flexibility to learn science organically and avoid detaching meaning from the work by giving too many hints before they have a chance to figure things out themselves.

For this to work, students need to start with a strong foundation. To avoid talking in circles without approaching the answers, we equip the students with the tools to move forward – representing numbers, thinking about errors, and designing experiments, for example. Once students have gained the confidence and skills they need to think responsibly about the material, they have the opportunity to discover physics through guided activities and problems. They see surprising results and work together to try to explain them. Labs are used to introduce the material (to maximize the chance of student-led discovery) rather than to reinforce it. Students learn physics by doing it. In an era when AI models like ChatGPT can make students feel like the answers are at their fingertips (whether those answers are correct or not), it becomes even more urgent for students to develop the ability to have back-and-forth discussions where they use data and reasoning to convince each other of the right ideas.

I recall one particular class when students were studying Newton’s Laws of Motion. After conducting an experiment which involved subtle and unexpected results, the class came together to try to figure out what happened. One student claimed that an object experiencing a constant force would move at a constant speed, while the rest of the class collectively disagreed. The lone student argued enthusiastically, defending his ideas using data and logic. One by one, others in the class came to his side, until his view was held by the majority. The remaining opposition had to articulate their hesitancy to switch sides ever more clearly in the face of a changing tide. After a lengthy discussion, we finally came to the correct conclusion: the lone student was wrong.

The evolution of this discussion points to the beauty of Harkness teaching. Students obtained a far deeper understanding of Newton’s Laws than if we had all agreed in the first place. They gained experience in thinking through their ideas, using data to support their hypotheses, and defending their conclusions logically. They obtained a better sense of how personal biases can prevent us from seeing the data clearly, and of how to avoid being swayed into the wrong explanation. Would it have been faster for me to just tell them the answer from the start? Yes. But the act of learning would not have been nearly as impactful.

We have a framework for the course, with specific content goals and requirements. No matter how interesting the discussions might be, at the end of the unit the students need to leave the room having learned the proper physics, and this requires varying levels of teacher intervention. But years (or decades) from now, the impact of their classroom experience will not be measured in how many of Kepler’s Laws a student can recite, but rather, how effectively they are able to process ideas, how accurately they can use data to guide their thinking, and how clearly they articulate their thoughts.  Harkness education instills a comfort with uncertainty and an appropriate skepticism of claims that aren’t backed up by evidence – skills that are necessary as students venture forward into a rapidly changing world.

For more information, contact Lisa M. Gillard H'17, director of public relations, at lgillard@lawrenceville.org.