In The Importance of Average: Playing the Game of School to Increase Success and Achievement by Stephen Farenga et al., one of the authors tells a story about a birthday party his five year old son attended. As all the kids were playing in the backyard, some of them started using lightsaber toys. But there were not enough lightsabers for everyone to have one, so some of the children found hockey sticks or other surrogate objects to wield in lieu of a bonafide lightsaber. Others converted pieces of wood or some sticks to lightsabers.
Over time, the children using the surrogate objects in place of the lightsabers became more spirited, committed, and imaginative in their play than were the children who had the manufactured plastic lightsabers. This was evidenced by a longer play period with fewer interruptions and a play activity that went beyond Darth Vader, Stormtroopers, and the magical wonder of the Force. The novelty of the manufactured plastic lightsaber eventually wore off, but the use of the surrogate objects did not. [Page 125]
The authors attribute this phenomenon to cognitive intrigue. They define cognitive intrigue as “the curiosity that intrinsically motivates an individual to willingly engage in an activity.“
They provide another example in the American Journal of Play (Winter, 2016); kiddos will take branches and use them as wands (and honestly, most of the people reading this have probably done something very similar in the not-so-distant past). The rationale that the authors give for the sustained engagement in the hockey stick substitution is that a lightsaber has constrained domain; a lightsaber is great specifically for Star Wars games but doesn’t translate well outside of that context. Consider another example they use – a Lego minifigure is a wonderful toy in the realm of Legos but they are pigeonholed into specific purposes (driving a car, riding a bike, walking around Lego town). They have a specific use. But the constraints of a plank (that’s Legospeak for the flat pieces with no humps) are ambiguous and invite near-infinite possibilities.
The abstraction of a plank offers more latitude for the Lego builder because there are no preconceived limitations of the intended use (in fact with a bin full of nothing but Lego planks, the builder can violate the rules of Lego building and reorientate the entire building process).
So what does cognitive intrigue have to do with teaching?
Since cognitive intrigue promotes engagement and motivation, perhaps this is a mechanism worthy of installing as we design educational experiences. Let’s imagine that we are having our students play Tic Tac Toe (not that Tic Tac Toe is a valuable learning experience – this is just an example). Almost every student is familiar with the rules (and those that are not can catch up quickly – it’s a simple rule set). My guess is that most students might go along with the game for a round or two because it is a departure from class and might lead to a novel experience. But the interest would likely dissipate quickly.
Now let’s imagine that instead of Tic Tac Toe, we introduced a game called Tic Tac Go. The rules are very similar but there is a catch – the grid is not three by three. Instead, it’s five by five. And instead of two players (X and O) there will be a third player (using a ☆). Every student – despite never playing this game before – is equipped with the know-how to engage but probably lacks reliable strategy. It is intriguing because the learner is kinda-almost there. Improving in the game is in their regime of competence.
Tic Tac Go is cognitively intriguing.
My guess is that students won’t tire of Tic Tac Go in only a round or two. I think students would want to play it until they start to really understand the dynamics. And making the game a three person game adds not only mystique but a social component. The introduction of a third player adds opportunity for politicking, for instance.
The art of cognitive intrigue is leveraging it to your class in a purposeful manner. Tweak an experience in your class so it is similar enough that students understand the gist but provides some confusion for the brain. I could swap out the QWERTY keyboards in the computer lab with a DVORAK keyboard, and that would be cognitively intriguing. But it wouldn’t align with any work I’m doing in my programming class and therefore wouldn’t provide any benefit.
Instead I might give my students a standard task with a twist. Most students in programming can program a secure password generator. But what would happen if I went into class, asked all the students to fire up their computers and submit a program that generates secure passwords but they need to do it in as few lines of code as possible? Code Golf, we’ll call it.
Cognitive intrigue. The students know the rules of programming, are equipped with a toolset and knowledge, and are tasked with an odd specification. It’s the ☆ in Tic Tac Go.
Image by Arek Socha from Pixabay
