How often do you need to encounter a word before you learn it?

There has been wide agreement for a long time that one of the most important ways of building the mental lexicon is by having extended exposure to language input through reading and listening. Some researchers (e.g. Krashen, 2008) have gone as far as to say that direct vocabulary instruction serves little purpose, as there is no interface between explicit and implicit knowledge. This remains, however, a minority position, with a majority of researchers agreeing with Barcroft (2015) that deliberate learning plays an important role, even if it is only ‘one step towards knowing the word’ (Nation, 2013: 46).

There is even more agreement when it comes to the differences between deliberate study and extended exposure to language input, in terms of the kinds of learning that takes place. Whilst basic knowledge of lexical items (the pairings of meaning and form) may be developed through deliberate learning (e.g. flash cards), it is suggested that ‘the more ‘contextualized’ aspects of vocabulary (e.g. collocation) cannot be easily taught explicitly and are best learned implicitly through extensive exposure to the use of words in context’ (Schmitt, 2008: 333). In other words, deliberate study may develop lexical breadth, but, for lexical depth, reading and listening are the way to go.

This raises the question of how many times a learner would need to encounter a word (in reading or listening) in order to learn its meaning. Learners may well be developing other aspects of word knowledge at the same time, of course, but a precondition for this is probably that the form-meaning relationship is sorted out. Laufer and Nation (2012: 167) report that ‘researchers seem to agree that with ten exposures, there is some chance of recognizing the meaning of a new word later on’. I’ve always found this figure interesting, but strangely unsatisfactory, unsure of what, precisely, it was actually telling me. Now, with the recent publication of a meta-analysis looking at the effects of repetition on incidental vocabulary learning (Uchihara, Webb & Yanagisawa, 2019), things are becoming a little clearer.

First of all, the number ten is a ballpark figure, rather than a scientifically proven statistic. In their literature review, Uchihara et al. report that ‘the number of encounters necessary to learn words rang[es] from 6, 10, 12, to more than 20 times. That is to say, ‘the number of encounters necessary for learning of vocabulary to occur during meaning-focussed input remains unclear’. If you ask a question to which there is a great variety of answers, there is a strong probability that there is something wrong with the question. That, it would appear, is the case here.

Unsurprisingly, there is, at least, a correlation between repeated encounters of a word and learning, described by Uchihara et al as statistically significant (with a medium effect size). More interesting are the findings about the variables in the studies that were looked at. These included ‘learner variables’ (age and the current size of the learner’s lexicon), ‘treatment variables’ (the amount of spacing between the encounters, listening versus reading, the presence or absence of visual aids, the degree to which learners ‘engage’ with the words they encounter) and ‘methodological variables’ in the design of the research (the kinds of words that are being looked at, word characteristics, the use of non-words, the test format and whether or not learners were told that they were going to be tested).

Here is a selection of the findings:

• Older learners tend to benefit more from repeated encounters than younger learners.
• Learners with a smaller vocabulary size tend to benefit more from repeated encounters with L2 words, but this correlation was not statistically significant. ‘Beyond a certain point in vocabulary growth, learners may be able to acquire L2 words in fewer encounters and need not receive as many encounters as learners with smaller vocabulary size’.
• Learners made greater gains when the repeated exposure took place under massed conditions (e.g. on the same day), rather than under ‘spaced conditions’ (spread out over a longer period of time).
• Repeated exposure during reading and, to a slightly lesser extent, listening resulted in more gains than reading while listening and viewing.
• ‘Learners presented with visual information during meaning-focused tasks benefited less from repeated encounters than those who had no access to the information’. This does not mean that visual support is counter-productive: only that the positive effect of repeated encounters is not enhanced by visual support.
• ‘A significantly larger effect was found for treatments involving no engagement compared to treatment involving engagement’. Again, this does not mean that ‘no engagement’ is better than ‘engagement’: only that the positive effect of repeated encounters is not enhanced by ‘engagement’.
• ‘The frequency-learning correlation does not seem to increase beyond a range of around 20 encounters with a word’.
• Experiments using non-words may exaggerate the effect of frequent encounters (i.e. in the real world, with real words, the learning potential of repeated encounters may be less than indicated by some research).
• Forewarning learners of an upcoming comprehension test had a positive impact on gains in vocabulary learning. Again, this does not mean that teachers should systematically test their students’ comprehension of what they have read.

For me, the most interesting finding was that ‘about 11% of the variance in word learning through meaning-focused input was explained by frequency of encounters’. This means, quite simply, that a wide range of other factors, beyond repeated encounters, will determine the likelihood of learners acquiring vocabulary items from extensive reading and listening. The frequency of word encounters is just one factor among many.

I’m still not sure what the takeaways from this meta-analysis should be, besides the fact that it’s all rather complex. The research does not, in any way, undermine the importance of massive exposure to meaning-focussed input in learning a language. But I will be much more circumspect in my teacher training work about making specific claims concerning the number of times that words need to be encountered before they are ‘learnt’. And I will be even more sceptical about claims for the effectiveness of certain online language learning programs which use algorithms to ensure that words reappear a certain number of times in written, audio and video texts that are presented to learners.

References

Barcroft, J. 2015. Lexical Input Processing and Vocabulary Learning. Amsterdam: John Benjamins

Laufer, B. & Nation, I.S.P. 2012. Vocabulary. In Gass, S.M. & Mackey, A. (Eds.) The Routledge Handbook of Second Language Acquisition (pp.163 – 176). Abingdon, Oxon.: Routledge

Nation, I.S.P. 2013. Learning Vocabulary in Another Language 2^nd edition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

Krashen, S. 2008. The comprehension hypothesis extended. In T. Piske & M. Young-Scholten (Eds.), Input Matters in SLA (pp.81 – 94). Bristol, UK: Multilingual Matters

Schmitt, N. 2008. Review article: instructed second language vocabulary learning. Language Teaching Research 12 (3): 329 – 363

Uchihara, T., Webb, S. & Yanagisawa, A. 2019. The Effects of Repetition on Incidental Vocabulary Learning: A Meta-Analysis of Correlational Studies. Language Learning, 69 (3): 559 – 599) Available online: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/330774796_The_Effects_of_Repetition_on_Incidental_Vocabulary_Learning_A_Meta-Analysis_of_Correlational_Studies

The fun they had

Back in the middle of the last century, the first interactive machines for language teaching appeared. Previously, there had been phonograph discs and wire recorders (Ornstein, 1968: 401), but these had never really taken off. This time, things were different. Buoyed by a belief in the power of technology, along with the need (following the Soviet Union’s successful Sputnik programme) to demonstrate the pre-eminence of the United States’ technological expertise, the interactive teaching machines that were used in programmed instruction promised to revolutionize language learning (Valdman, 1968: 1). From coast to coast, ‘tremors of excitement ran through professional journals and conferences and department meetings’ (Kennedy, 1967: 871). The new technology was driven by hard science, supported and promoted by the one of the most well-known and respected psychologists and public intellectuals of the day (Skinner, 1961).

In classrooms, the machines acted as powerfully effective triggers in generating situational interest (Hidi & Renninger, 2006). Even more exciting than the mechanical teaching machines were the computers that were appearing on the scene. ‘Lick’ Licklider, a pioneer in interactive computing at the Advanced Research Projects Agency in Arlington, Virginia, developed an automated drill routine for learning German by hooking up a computer, two typewriters, an oscilloscope and a light pen (Noble, 1991: 124). Students loved it, and some would ‘go on and on, learning German words until they were forced by scheduling to cease their efforts’. Researchers called the seductive nature of the technology ‘stimulus trapping’, and Licklider hoped that ‘before [the student] gets out from under the control of the computer’s incentives, [they] will learn enough German words’ (Noble, 1991: 125).

With many of the developed economies of the world facing a critical shortage of teachers, ‘an urgent pedagogical emergency’ (Hof, 2018), the new approach was considered to be extremely efficient and could equalise opportunity in schools across the country. It was ‘here to stay: [it] appears destined to make progress that could well go beyond the fondest dreams of its originators […] an entire industry is just coming into being and significant sales and profits should not be too long in coming’ (Kozlowski, 1961: 47).

Unfortunately, however, researchers and entrepreneurs had massively underestimated the significance of novelty effects. The triggered situational interest of the machines did not lead to intrinsic individual motivation. Students quickly tired of, and eventually came to dislike, programmed instruction and the machines that delivered it (McDonald et al.: 2005: 89). What’s more, the machines were expensive and ‘research studies conducted on its effectiveness showed that the differences in achievement did not constantly or substantially favour programmed instruction over conventional instruction (Saettler, 2004: 303). Newer technologies, with better ‘stimulus trapping’, were appearing. Programmed instruction lost its backing and disappeared, leaving as traces only its interest in clearly defined learning objectives, the measurement of learning outcomes and a concern with the efficiency of learning approaches.

Hot on the heels of programmed instruction came the language laboratory. Futuristic in appearance, not entirely unlike the deck of the starship USS Enterprise which launched at around the same time, language labs captured the public imagination and promised to explore the final frontiers of language learning. As with the earlier teaching machines, students were initially enthusiastic. Even today, when language labs are introduced into contexts where they may be perceived as new technology, they can lead to high levels of initial motivation (e.g. Ramganesh & Janaki, 2017).

Given the huge investments into these labs, it’s unfortunate that initial interest waned fast. By 1969, many of these rooms had turned into ‘“electronic graveyards,” sitting empty and unused, or perhaps somewhat glorified study halls to which students grudgingly repair to don headphones, turn down the volume, and prepare the next period’s history or English lesson, unmolested by any member of the foreign language faculty’ (Turner, 1969: 1, quoted in Roby, 2003: 527). ‘Many second language students shudder[ed] at the thought of entering into the bowels of the “language laboratory” to practice and perfect the acoustical aerobics of proper pronunciation skills. Visions of sterile white-walled, windowless rooms, filled with endless bolted-down rows of claustrophobic metal carrels, and overseen by a humorless, lab director, evoke[d] fear in the hearts of even the most stout-hearted prospective second-language learners (Wiley, 1990: 44).

By the turn of this century, language labs had mostly gone, consigned to oblivion by the appearance of yet newer technology: the internet, laptops and smartphones. Education had been on the brink of being transformed through new learning technologies for decades (Laurillard, 2008: 1), but this time it really was different. It wasn’t just one technology that had appeared, but a whole slew of them: ‘artificial intelligence, learning analytics, predictive analytics, adaptive learning software, school management software, learning management systems (LMS), school clouds. No school was without these and other technologies branded as ‘superintelligent’ by the late 2020s’ (Macgilchrist et al., 2019). The hardware, especially phones, was ubiquitous and, therefore, free. Unlike teaching machines and language laboratories, students were used to using the technology and expected to use their devices in their studies.

A barrage of publicity, mostly paid for by the industry, surrounded the new technologies. These would ‘meet the demands of Generation Z’, the new generation of students, now cast as consumers, who ‘were accustomed to personalizing everything’.  AR, VR, interactive whiteboards, digital projectors and so on made it easier to ‘create engaging, interactive experiences’. The ‘New Age’ technologies made learning fun and easy,  ‘bringing enthusiasm among the students, improving student engagement, enriching the teaching process, and bringing liveliness in the classroom’. On top of that, they allowed huge amounts of data to be captured and sold, whilst tracking progress and attendance. In any case, resistance to digital technology, said more than one language teaching expert, was pointless (Styring, 2015).

At the same time, technology companies increasingly took on ‘central roles as advisors to national governments and local districts on educational futures’ and public educational institutions came to be ‘regarded by many as dispensable or even harmful’ (Macgilchrist et al., 2019).

But, as it turned out, the students of Generation Z were not as uniformly enthusiastic about the new technology as had been assumed, and resistance to digital, personalized delivery in education was not long in coming. In November 2018, high school students at Brooklyn’s Secondary School for Journalism staged a walkout in protest at their school’s use of Summit Learning, a web-based platform promoting personalized learning developed by Facebook. They complained that the platform resulted in coursework requiring students to spend much of their day in front of a computer screen, that made it easy to cheat by looking up answers online, and that some of their teachers didn’t have the proper training for the curriculum (Leskin, 2018). Besides, their school was in a deplorable state of disrepair, especially the toilets. There were similar protests in Kansas, where students staged sit-ins, supported by their parents, one of whom complained that ‘we’re allowing the computers to teach and the kids all looked like zombies’ before pulling his son out of the school (Bowles, 2019). In Pennsylvania and Connecticut, some schools stopped using Summit Learning altogether, following protests.

But the resistance did not last. Protesters were accused of being nostalgic conservatives and educationalists kept largely quiet, fearful of losing their funding from the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative (Facebook) and other philanthro-capitalists. The provision of training in grit, growth mindset, positive psychology and mindfulness (also promoted by the technology companies) was ramped up, and eventually the disaffected students became more quiescent. Before long, the data-intensive, personalized approach, relying on the tools, services and data storage of particular platforms had become ‘baked in’ to educational systems around the world (Moore, 2018: 211). There was no going back (except for small numbers of ultra-privileged students in a few private institutions).

By the middle of the century (2155), most students, of all ages, studied with interactive screens in the comfort of their homes. Algorithmically-driven content, with personalized, adaptive tests had become the norm, but the technology occasionally went wrong, leading to some frustration. One day, two young children discovered a book in their attic. Made of paper with yellow, crinkly pages, where ‘the words stood still instead of moving the way they were supposed to’. The book recounted the experience of schools in the distant past, where ‘all the kids from the neighbourhood came’, sitting in the same room with a human teacher, studying the same things ‘so they could help one another on the homework and talk about it’. Margie, the younger of the children at 11 years old, was engrossed in the book when she received a nudge from her personalized learning platform to return to her studies. But Margie was reluctant to go back to her fractions. She ‘was thinking about how the kids must have loved it in the old days. She was thinking about the fun they had’ (Asimov, 1951).

References

Asimov, I. 1951. The Fun They Had. Accessed September 20, 2019. http://web1.nbed.nb.ca/sites/ASD-S/1820/J%20Johnston/Isaac%20Asimov%20-%20The%20fun%20they%20had.pdf

Bowles, N. 2019. ‘Silicon Valley Came to Kansas Schools. That Started a Rebellion’ The New York Times, April 21. Accessed September 20, 2019. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/04/21/technology/silicon-valley-kansas-schools.html

Hidi, S. & Renninger, K.A. 2006. ‘The Four-Phase Model of Interest Development’ Educational Psychologist, 41 (2), 111 – 127

Hof, B. 2018. ‘From Harvard via Moscow to West Berlin: educational technology, programmed instruction and the commercialisation of learning after 1957’ History of Education, 47 (4): 445-465

Kennedy, R.H. 1967. ‘Before using Programmed Instruction’ The English Journal, 56 (6), 871 – 873

Kozlowski, T. 1961. ‘Programmed Teaching’ Financial Analysts Journal, 17 (6): 47 – 54

Laurillard, D. 2008. Digital Technologies and their Role in Achieving our Ambitions for Education. London: Institute for Education.

Leskin, P. 2018. ‘Students in Brooklyn protest their school’s use of a Zuckerberg-backed online curriculum that Facebook engineers helped build’ Business Insider, 12.11.18 Accessed 20 September 2019. https://www.businessinsider.de/summit-learning-school-curriculum-funded-by-zuckerberg-faces-backlash-brooklyn-2018-11?r=US&IR=T

McDonald, J. K., Yanchar, S. C. & Osguthorpe, R.T. 2005. ‘Learning from Programmed Instruction: Examining Implications for Modern Instructional Technology’ Educational Technology Research and Development, 53 (2): 84 – 98

Macgilchrist, F., Allert, H. & Bruch, A. 2019. ‚Students and society in the 2020s. Three future ‘histories’ of education and technology’. Learning, Media and Technology, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/17439884.2019.1656235 )

Moore, M. 2018. Democracy Hacked. London: Oneworld

Noble, D. D. 1991. The Classroom Arsenal. London: The Falmer Press

Ornstein, J. 1968. ‘Programmed Instruction and Educational Technology in the Language Field: Boon or Failure?’ The Modern Language Journal, 52 (7), 401 – 410

Ramganesh, E. & Janaki, S. 2017. ‘Attitude of College Teachers towards the Utilization of Language Laboratories for Learning English’ Asian Journal of Social Science Studies; Vol. 2 (1): 103 – 109

Roby, W.B. 2003. ‘Technology in the service of foreign language teaching: The case of the language laboratory’ In D. Jonassen (ed.), Handbook of Research on Educational Communications and Technology, 2nd ed.: 523 – 541. Mahwah, NJ.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates

Saettler, P. 2004. The Evolution of American Educational Technology. Greenwich, Conn.: Information Age Publishing

Skinner, B. F. 1961. ‘Teaching Machines’ Scientific American, 205(5), 90-107

Styring, J. 2015. Engaging Generation Z. Cambridge English webinar 2015 https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=4&v=XCxl4TqgQZA

Valdman, A. 1968. ‘Programmed Instruction versus Guided Learning in Foreign Language Acquisition’ Die Unterrichtspraxis / Teaching German, 1 (2), 1 – 14.

Wiley, P. D. 1990. ‘Language labs for 1990: User-friendly, expandable and affordable’. Media & Methods, 27(1), 44–47)

Jenny Holzer, Protect me from what I want