This month: Something a little different. In late October I downloaded David Byrne’s new How Music Works for a plane trip (thebook is also available for eReaders through various sellers). I liked his pastwork on PowerPoint, so I was interested in hearing what he might say aboutmusic. The surprise: From page one I found I could pretty much substitute theword “content” for the word “music” in many of his ideas.
The parallels to our work withlearning and experience were unmistakable and plentiful. By the time I reachedthe end I had amassed 87 Kindle highlights. Themes I found especially relevant,in 2012, to my work in learning and development:
The problem of capturing tacit knowledge
“Lots ofexpressive, textural, and emotional nuances are lost with any notation … if theinstructional thread gets broken, if all that’s left is the written music … thenwhat gets passed down might bear little resemblance to the original” (Kindlelocation 53990).
The establishedtraditional musical notation does not capture nuance, or demonstrate technique,or otherwise show how a musician achieved a particular unique sound. Whilenotes may exist on paper that show whatis done, how it’s done is still social,still largely an oral tradition. We’ve become more aware of this, and are luckynow to have new ways of handing it down. (See, for instance, the thousands ofguitar lessons on YouTube). Tacit knowledge is just as big a problem elsewhere,especially given the old 20th century view that the organization“owns” employee knowledge as discrete pieces of information that can becaptured in a database. Complete sharing and transfer will never happen viaformal written means. You may get the what,but the how is shared throughconversation, mentoring, coaching, and talking about our work. Using new toolsand nurturing communities of practice (note: this is not “managing work teams”)to support this will help it happen more quickly and help it reach a largeraudience.
A concern: The content adapts to the technology
While, as Byrne notes, new technology can surface new art forms (the two-minute video; text-freestorytelling via images on an online whiteboard), the opposite can be true: theart form conforms to the technology. Popular songs continue to be three-minutes-ishlong because that’s what would fit on Mr. Edison’s wax recording cylinders 130years ago. The advent of eLearning has shown us many, many examples of contentadapting to technology like authoring tools and tracking methods rather thanthe other way around. While Byrne finds this positive for music—for instance,new software makes composing and editing much, much easier—it has brought achange to music itself, which we can now create and manufacture with novariance, change in tempo, or good “mistakes.”
I worry about what this means to our field. So often I see bad compromisesmade, in which good design and sensible instruction take a backseat to thevagaries and limits of authoring tools. The “data” cart, too, often seems to bedriving the horse: During a recent conference presentation on assessment ineLearning, I asked the audience why we assess. Several people immediately said:“For the LMS.” Ouch.
“The music business is hardly in even in the business of producing music anymore. Atsome point, it became primarily the business of selling objects.”
Do I even need to elaborate on this one? How much of our training budget goesto things that have nothing to do with “learning”? Why does the LMS cost morethan the whole L&D department? How many organizations invest in more authoringtools and asset libraries than they do in people who know how to use them todesign more effectively? Why have we fragmented learning into shards of“objects” rather than craft whole, robust learning experiences? My fellowcolumnist Marc Rosenberg years ago offered the analogy of railroads, whichfailed because they saw themselves in the railroad business, not thetransportation business. Us? We’re supposed to be in the learning business, not the “object” business.
Music is returning to its social roots.
Historically, music has been created in and for a social context. Recordingtechnology changed that, and the arrival of personal listening devices like theWalkman isolated it even more. But we’re moving back toward shared musicalexperiences beyond the occasional concert, with tools like Spotify letting usshare listening activities and co-create song playlists and publishing medialike YouTube expanding the oral tradition of handing down technique. This,along with DJ-spurred trends like sampling music, has shifted the idea ofauthorship: the music curator isn’t necessarily the singer. There’s plenty herethat parallels—well, I wouldn’t say trends, because social learning is not atall new—but recent increased awareness of how people learn in work, with and from each other. We are in many ways seeing intentional efforts to help, or at least to allow, workplace learning tolikewise return to its social roots.
Other themes
I’m out of column space, but Byrne offers much food for thought for those of us who work with “content.” Some other themes:
- The idea of shared authorship; the movement fromlone innovator to innovation occurring in a social context.
- The biases inherent in software. (Think PowerPointand learning management systems.)
- New media shapes perceptions; ways in whichtechnologies and space shape the content. (Think Twitter.)
- Resistance and threat as media becomes moredemocratized: “The Church inevitably loses some of its deep cosmic power whenthe hymns are written in languages everyone speaks.” (Kindle location 5408.)
- The head of the Muzak corporation: “Our musicshould be heard but not listened to.” Policy training, anyone?
- Endless arguments over which is “better”: live musicor recorded music. There are plenty of parallels to our work here, includingthe artificial distinction of face-to-face versus “online” (which can each have100 varying degrees of effectiveness), different social media tools, differentmeans of collecting data, and the relentless demand for “one right answer” whenthere isn’t one. Byrne says, “I like a good story and I also like staring atthe sea: do I have to choose between the two?” (Kindle location 5579.)
- Historical objections to innovations, includingmusical technologies’ “dumbing down” the masses and the blasphemy of “revolvingthings” that destroy the real experience. Sound familiar?
- Whether to begin learning experiences—such asmusic instruction—by building on historical foundations or through relevantcontemporary examples.
- Support for new, community-based, social meansof music creation, not more performing arts centers. “Why not invest in the futureof music, instead of building fortresses to preserve its past?” Same with a newcall to give learning communities support and space, rather than continue toinvest in old-school “courses.”
I didn’t set out to write a book review but suppose it’s pretty evident that I’d recommend Byrne’s How Music Works for anyone working in L&D now, particularly those concerned with content and emerging conversations aboutthe social nature of learning. Buying advice: There are a good many images, so the paper version of the book is “pretty,” but the electronic version provides in-context links to actual music samples.
The book
Byrne, D. (2012) How Music Works. https://store.mcsweeneys.net/products/how-music-works; available for eReaders through various sellers
The highlights
My 87 Kindle highlights, some with notes, can be accessed via my Kindle profile at https://kindle.amazon.com/profile/Jane-Bozarth/173467?offset=10







