Laura: Here's a wild thought: research shows we forget about 70% of new information within 24 hours. So what was the point of all those years in school? The book we're talking about today argues that most of what we call 'education' is designed for forgetting. Sophia: Okay, that's a terrifying thought. My student loan debt just started sweating. What book could possibly make such a bold, and frankly, personally insulting claim? Laura: It’s The Understanding by Design Handbook by Grant Wiggins and Jay McTighe. And what's fascinating is that these guys weren't just academics. They spent years in classrooms and workshops, refining this framework because they saw firsthand how even the 'best' students couldn't apply what they'd learned. It became this hugely influential, award-winning movement to fix that exact problem. Sophia: A movement to fix education itself? That’s ambitious. So they’re not just complaining about the problem, they actually have a solution? Laura: They have a blueprint. And it starts by asking a really uncomfortable question: What does it actually mean to understand something?

Sophia: I mean, I feel like I know what it means to understand something. It’s when you get the right answer on the test, right? You study, you memorize, you get an A. That’s understanding. Laura: Is it, though? There’s a famous and slightly horrifying story about this. Researchers went to a Harvard commencement ceremony. Picture it: the gowns, the diplomas, the proud parents. They asked graduating seniors, some of the most celebrated minds in the country, a simple question: "Why is it warmer in the summer and colder in the winter?" Sophia: Oh, I know this one! It’s because the Earth is closer to the sun in the summer. Easy. Laura: That’s what most of the Harvard grads said, too. And it’s completely wrong. Sophia: Wait, what? You’re kidding me. From Harvard? Laura: Not kidding. The real reason is the tilt of the Earth's axis, which affects the angle and duration of sunlight. But these brilliant students, who had undoubtedly passed multiple science classes, held onto this fundamental misconception. They had knowledge—they could probably define "axis" and "orbit"—but they didn't have understanding. Sophia: Wow. That’s… humbling. And it makes me question every A I’ve ever gotten. That's like me with the Pythagorean theorem. I can recite a-squared plus b-squared equals c-squared in my sleep, but please do not ask me to use it to build a shelf. Laura: Exactly! The book tells another great story about the philosopher John Dewey visiting a classroom. He asks the students, "What would you find if you dug a hole in the earth?" and gets total silence. The regular teacher, annoyed, steps in and says, "He's asking the wrong question." She turns to the class and asks, "What is the state of the center of the earth?" And the whole class chants in unison: "Igneous fusion." Sophia: Okay, so the kids could parrot the term but had no idea what it meant in the real world. They knew the words, but not the music. Laura: Precisely. Wiggins and McTighe argue that true understanding is much richer than that. They break it down into what they call the "Six Facets of Understanding." You really understand something when you can Explain it, Interpret it, Apply it, see it from different Perspectives, have Empathy, and have Self-Knowledge about it. Sophia: That sounds… comprehensive. And a lot harder to grade than a multiple-choice test. Can you give me a simple example of one of those facets in action? Laura: Absolutely. Let's take 'Application'. The book gives a perfect, simple example: a good cook knows that oil and vinegar don't mix. But a cook who understands knows that adding a little mustard will act as an emulsifier and bind them together. They can apply their knowledge of chemistry to solve a practical problem. That's the difference. They can also explain why it works. Sophia: I love that. It’s not just following a recipe; it’s knowing how to write your own. So the goal of education shouldn't be to create a generation of fact-checkers, but a generation of cooks who know when to add the mustard. Laura: You've got it. It’s about being able to use your knowledge flexibly and effectively in the real world.

Sophia: Okay, so if the goal is this deep, six-sided understanding, how on earth do you teach for that? It sounds way harder than just lecturing from a textbook and hoping for the best. Laura: It is harder, but it’s also more logical. This is where the book's central, revolutionary idea comes in: "Backward Design." Sophia: Backward Design? That sounds like driving a car by only looking in the rearview mirror. Laura: (Laughs) It’s a great analogy, but a better one might be planning a vacation. You don't just start driving and hope you end up somewhere nice. You pick a destination first—say, Paris. Then you figure out what you'll need to prove you were there—photos of the Eiffel Tower, a receipt from a café. And only then do you book the flights and hotels. Sophia: So you start with the end in mind. Laura: Exactly. Traditional teaching often starts with the activities. "We'll read Chapter 3, then do this fun worksheet, then watch a video..." It's all about the journey, with a vague hope that the destination is "learning." Backward Design flips that. It has three stages. Stage 1: Identify the Desired Results. What do you want students to understand? What are the big, "enduring" ideas? Sophia: Like "a balanced diet is crucial for health." Laura: Perfect. Stage 2: Determine Acceptable Evidence. This is the radical part. Before you plan any lessons, you design the final assessment. How will students prove they understand that a balanced diet is crucial? A multiple-choice test on the food groups won't cut it. Sophia: Right, because the Harvard grads could have passed that. You'd need something more… authentic. Like having them design a healthy meal plan for a week. Laura: Now you're thinking like a backward designer! That's a performance task. And only after you've designed that task—Stage 2—do you move to Stage 3: Plan Learning Experiences and Instruction. Now you know exactly what knowledge and skills students will need to succeed on that meal-plan task, so you can plan lessons to equip them. No wasted time, no irrelevant activities. Sophia: Hold on, though. Doesn't this just mean "teaching to the test"? I've heard that critique leveled against frameworks like this. It sounds like you're just designing a test and then drilling students on how to pass it. Laura: That's a really common and important question. The authors argue that the problem isn't teaching to the test; the problem is that most tests aren't worth teaching to. If the "test" is a shallow, easily-gamed multiple-choice quiz, then yes, teaching to it is bad. But if the "test" is an authentic performance task—like designing a cost-effective shipping container, or defending a historical thesis in a debate, or creating a genuinely persuasive advertisement—then teaching to that test is the whole point. You're preparing them for a real-world challenge. Sophia: Okay, I see the distinction. You're not teaching them to fill in bubbles. You're teaching them how to do the thing you want them to understand. The assessment becomes the goal, not a hurdle. Laura: Exactly. And that's the final piece of the puzzle. The assessment can't be a simple quiz. It has to be a performance. But that brings up a new problem: not all performances are created equal.

Sophia: What do you mean? A performance is a performance, right? If the kids are busy and making things, isn't that good? Laura: This is where the book gets really sharp about the difference between a unit being "engaging" and being "effective." They tell a fantastic story about a 5th-grade teacher planning a unit on the American Civil War. The goal was for students to understand the causes and effects of the war. Sophia: Makes sense. A classic history topic. Laura: For the final assessment, the teacher assigned a project she'd used for years and the kids loved: create a diorama of a famous Civil War battle. They had to build a little 3D scene in a shoebox and write some facts about the battle on an index card. It was hands-on, creative, engaging. The kids were totally into it. Sophia: Sounds like a great project! I would have loved that in 5th grade. What's the problem? Laura: The problem is validity. Does that diorama actually provide evidence that a student understands the causes and effects of the Civil War? Sophia: Oh. Now that you put it that way… no. It proves they can use glue and cotton balls to make fake smoke. It tests their art skills and their ability to copy facts onto an index card. It has almost nothing to do with the actual learning goal. Laura: Bingo. The activity was engaging, but as an assessment, it was completely ineffective. It was a classic case of what the authors call "activity-oriented design" instead of "results-oriented design." Sophia: Wow. I think my entire elementary school career of dioramas and posters was basically just arts and crafts time! I feel so betrayed. So how do you make sure your cool, engaging activities are also effective? Laura: That's where their other great tool comes in, the acronym WHERE. It's a checklist for designing the learning plan. W is for helping students know Where the unit is going and what's expected. H is for Hooking them from the start and Holding their interest. E is for Equipping them with the necessary knowledge and skills, and letting them Explore the ideas. R is for providing opportunities to Rethink and Revise their work. And the final E is for allowing them to Evaluate their own work and reflect on their learning. Sophia: So it’s a framework for making sure the journey—the lessons and activities—is actually pointed toward the destination you picked in your backward design. Laura: Precisely. It ensures that every fun activity, every cool project, is purposefully driving students toward that deep, six-faceted understanding we talked about. It's about being an architect, not just a tour guide who points at things.

Sophia: So when you boil it all down, what's the one big shift this book is asking us to make? It feels like it’s about more than just a new template for lesson plans. Laura: It absolutely is. It's a shift in identity for an educator. It’s a move from being a presenter of information to being an architect of understanding. The goal isn't to "cover" the curriculum; it's to uncover it with your students. You're not just delivering content; you're designing a journey that ends with genuine, durable understanding, not just a fleeting memory of facts that disappears 24 hours later. Sophia: An architect of understanding. I love that. It’s so much more active and intentional. It makes teaching sound like a creative act, not just a delivery service for information. Laura: It is. And it makes you look back at your own education and see it in a new light. It makes you wonder, what's the one thing you "learned" in school that you truly, deeply understand today? Not just know, but understand in that rich, six-faceted way. Sophia: That's a great question. For me, it's probably the concept of supply and demand, but only because I had a teacher who made us run a fake stock market for a month. We lived it. We applied it. We felt the pain and the triumph. It wasn't a definition in a book. Laura: See? That was a performance task. Your teacher was a secret backward designer. Sophia: Mind blown. We'd love to hear from our listeners on this. What’s that one piece of knowledge from your school days that actually stuck? Find us on our socials and share your story. What made it different? Laura: This is Aibrary, signing off.