At the beginning of September, we took two weeks off for a road trip around central Spain.
On our travels, we visited, amongst others, the beautiful mediaeval cities of Segovia Avila, Caceres and Toledo and some beautiful small towns in between, including Guadalupe.
There was so much to see! I thoroughly recommend internal Spain as a holiday destination – it’s full of surprises!
The Audio Guide Experience
We wandered around so many incredible buildings – cathedrals, fortresses, museums and more - usually wearing headsets and listening to an audio guide. There were a LOT of audio guides.
I mean A LOT. The history of this, that or the other was explained in dulcet tones. We were told about materials that were used and where they came from. And we heard who painted or carved whatever we were looking at and what had inspired the artist. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’ve ever remembered anything from an audio guide; I’ve already forgotten everything I heard through a headset on that holiday.
Think about that for a moment. Each piece of ‘learning’ contained in those audio guides, that someone had spent time creating, was lost to me, often within seconds, sometimes within minutes, always within days.
Yet, if I’d been asked to complete a happy sheet at the end of each visit, I’d have left mostly great reviews. Because I enjoyed looking around and mostly enjoyed someone explaining to me what I was seeing.
But I retained nothing.
The Other Experience
There is one exception to this whole experience of failed learning.
During our visit to the old city of Caceres, with its fascinating mix of Roman, Christian and Moorish architecture, we stumbled, just before lunch, into a small museum on the city walls.
At first glance, it didn’t seem that inspiring to be honest – just a few models of buildings to look at before wandering outside to see whatever was there.
But the man in the museum, despite his lack of English, and our lack of Spanish, took it upon himself to explain things. Excitedly, he led us to one model and explained in broken English that this was the very building we were in, as it would have been in ancient times. There were two towers in the city walls he explained, which we would see afterwards, that were built to guard a - he looked at me for help - ‘threesium?’.
“Third?” I sought to clarify.
“Yes”, he smiled broadly, “third!”.
In this way, our conversation continued, with us finishing most of his sentences as he ran out of English and using what little Spanish we possessed to try and help the learning along. There was a lot of gesturing and pointing at the model as we muddled through.
The Real Learning
Unlike the audio guides, this was not a polished presentation.
But that didn’t matter. In fact, it helped. Because it meant we had to be involved in the learning process. The learning required effort not just on the guide’s part, but ours too.
As I write this blog two months down the line, I still remember, without notes, everything I learned during that visit. The fact that this tiny fortress with its two towers guarded a third tower, the water tower, standing over a cistern that supplied the whole city; water that would be carried back up to the city in buckets through a sort of tunnel.
I even remember small details, like the fact that the walls between the towers with pointed ‘tops’ (I’m sure there’s a better word) were Christian, whilst those with the square tops were Arabic.
And I can picture the whole thing clearly as if I were still there. And what I remember inspires stories of ancient life that are alive in my mind.
That’s the power of experiential learning; learning where we are involved in finding our own answers. Learning that feeds our senses and captures our imagination. Learning that excites and engages us.
Conclusion
So, isn’t it a shame that so much learning uses methods akin to audio guides? Methods that, on the surface, appear cheap, but in reality, have so little impact that they’re actually often an expensive waste of time.
Isn’t it a shame that so much learning is passive, sometimes monotonous and often, after a while, boring. A shame too that so much effort is being spent on creating learning that fails to adapt to learners’ real needs or tap into their passions.
And finally, a shame that so much learning material fails to stand out. And is, ultimately, forgettable.
The happy sheets might tell us we delivered this passive content well. That’s great. And it gives recognition to our presentation skills. But what it doesn’t do is guarantee the training has had any real impact on beliefs or behaviours.
And ultimately that’s what matters.
If you want learning to be a better experience, head on over to
Trainers’ Library®. Because that’s what we specialise in.
Until next time…