I’ve been a scientist most of my life, having enjoyed the best job in the world: Senior dinosaur curator at the Royal Ontario Museum, and professor of zoology at the University of Toronto. During my 33-year tenure I published 46 scientific papers, twelve books, and received continuous federal grant support (NSERC) for my research. The reason for belabouring my credentials is that my views on the serious state of science education in our schools will be viewed as heresy by departments of education across the country.
Prior to my early retirement in 2003, I had noticed a decline among university students in their understanding of basic scientific concepts, and in their inability to undertake experimental investigations. This was especially evident during field courses, when they were required to conduct independent research projects. So many of them lacked hands-on experience, making me suspect that the emphasis in classrooms was on memorizing and recalling facts, rather than on understanding principles. To test this, I recently made some observations at a local high school. Much impressed by the teachers’ dedication, I was heartened to find that hands-on-science did exist, at least at this school. However, as I chatted with the students and saw how they conducted their experiments, I had the impression they were following a ‘recipe’ to satisfy a course requirement, rather than building upon a solid foundation in science.
Science is primarily a practical subject and forty years of teaching have convinced me that the best way for students to learn is through their own experiences. Schools have limited budgets for purchasing equipment and supplies, which might restrict the amount of experimentation in the classroom. To illustrate what can be done with limited resources, I staged a hands-on science week at the ROM during last year’s school break. Using everyday items, I explored various topics—from demonstrating air density by using atmospheric pressure to collapse milk cartons, to ‘rubberizing’ leftover chicken bones to show the composite nature of bone. Interacting with enthusiastic youngsters and their parents after each presentation revealed how few of them conducted experiments at school.
One outcome of my presentations was an invitation from the Science Teachers Association of Ontario to be a featured speaker at their annual meeting. In preparing for my talk, I searched the curriculum for a segment of science where I could assemble a string of interrelated experiments. Remarkably, there wasn’t one. Indeed, little in the curriculum resembled science as I know it. Instead, I discovered a smorgasbord of sociology and misunderstood science, with meaningless flow charts linking Fundamental Concepts, Big Ideas and the three Goals of the science curriculum. Significantly, the first goal is “to relate science…to society.” This has as much relevance to the teaching of science as the chemical properties of gold have to the teaching of economics.
In assembling a segment on flight, I found that one of the Big Ideas here was that, “Air has many properties that can be used for flight and for other purposes.” To me, big ideas are things like atomic theory and natural selection, not this meaningless drivel. As I admitted to the audience, if I were teaching flight in the classroom my students would fail because I left out the entire Goal 1 category including “crop dusting,” “transportation of organs for…transplants” and “trips for business and pleasure”. Nor did I mention flying “kites…a safe distance from overhead hydro wires” (in Goal 2). I also left out “home insulation, tires, sleeping bags, [and] layered clothing” (in Goal 3). However, my students would have a solid grasp of the science of flight through conducting their own experiments—from building and test-flying a simple airfoil made from a toilet-roll tube, to comparing the drag forces on streamlined Plasticine models, using a hairdryer.
Seeing so many young teachers in the audience, I was convinced they would think I was from another planet when I began my rant on the curriculum. But they were completely onside, expressing the view that the curriculum was senseless. I suspect that most of them teach science the way it should be taught anyway. However, they still have the problem of setting tests for their students, with the mandatory non-science nonsense required by the Ontario Ministry of Education. And the problem is not confined to the province of Ontario, as a comparison of curricula for other ministries confirmed.
When I taught school science in the UK during the 1960s, students spent most of their time conducting experiments themselves. Imagine today’s 12-year-olds inoculating Petri dishes with bacteria and assessing the effects of Penicillin. They became critical thinkers—understanding through experience.
This was the result of the Nuffield Science Teaching Project. Essentially, a group of science teachers got together to devise imaginative ways of teaching their subject, using real scientists as resource people. Sceptical at first, I soon realized this was the only way to teach science. I learned never to underestimate what youngsters can achieve, if motivated and properly directed. It is disturbing to think that those students in the sixties were better educated in science than our students are today.
Those responsible for the curriculum clearly have no understanding of science. The document they produced bears the hallmark of decision-making through consensus, with input from committees, focus groups, educational consultants and sundry other “experts.” The illogical end result does a grave disservice to students and teachers alike, eroding science education throughout Canada.
Bob McDonald of CBC’s Quirks & Quarks, with whom I have discussed this problem, has witnessed a decline in science education over the years. When judging science fairs across the country, he meets students with sophisticated experiments that look impressive to the uninformed. However, when probed, they reveal little grasp of the underlying concepts.
Given the catastrophic problems facing planet Earth, scientific literacy has never been more critical. Science education is too important to be left in such abysmally incompetent hands. I would propose an approach like that of the Nuffield Project, involving motivated classroom teachers and productive scientists.
Chris McGowan: a short biography - Abacusadventure.com
Born in England toward the end of the war, I grew up during the days of ration books and coal fires. I was not the most brilliant pupil, but had good teachers and was captivated by science. I experimented and built things at home. My interests included chemistry, rockets—which more often exploded than flew—and boiling up bones to make skeletons.
Obtaining a B. Sc. from one of the lesser known seats of learning, I became a full-time high-school teacher. I loved teaching but didn’t want to stay at school forever, so I enrolled as a part-time graduate student. I obtained my Ph.D. three years later, in 1969, moving to Canada with my young family to be a curator in vertebrate paleontology at the Royal Ontario Museum. I also became a professor of zoology at the U of T.
Having enjoyed more than thirty years as a vertebrate paleontologist—the best job I can imagine—I took early retirement. Now I spend most of my time writing. I have also worked in radio, writing and presenting two CBC Ideas programs (on Steam and Iron). I have written 17 books, mostly non-fiction, ranging from building dinosaurs from chicken bones, to a time travel to turn kids onto science. 
