Caring for your future self by reverse engineering the syllabus

There are only so many weeks in a semester. There is also a certain amount of material that must be covered, assignments that must be set, and marking deadlines that each course must meet. So, there will inevitably be a few heavier weeks from the instructor’s perspective, just like there will inevitably be some heavier parts of the semester for students. Some of these are likely to occur near the end of the course once most of the material is on the table. This is how so many of us end up with an overwhelming end of semester push, or an impossible week of marking and covering new material, or too short a marking turnaround time. 

Sometimes, in calculating how to manage and spread out such weeks, it can be tempting to compartmentalize our teaching responsibilities as though we were not also people with lives outside of the classroom. It can be equally tempting to assume the same of our students: that ours is their only class, that their only responsibilities are as students, or even that their priorities are course-related. 

None of these assumptions is fair, either to ourselves or to our students. 

So, one purpose of this post is to serve as a reminder at the course design stage that we all have obligations, responsibilities, deadlines, and expectations beyond any given course. And part of the purpose of this post is to serve as a reminder that we cannot predict the future, nor know every obstacle and emergency that will arise in a given semester. And if all I convince you to do is acknowledge these facts as part of your instructional design process, then this post will have been useful. 

But if you want some advice on how to take account of these features, then read on to learn a bit more about how to reverse engineer your syllabus to hopefully meet more of your own needs as a complete person, and more of your students’ needs as people with lives outside of your class. Partly, this is an exercise in brainstorming about foreseeable conflicts in an attempt to better prepare for them. 

Start with the most mechanical, most fixed features of the course itself: class meetings and times, university holidays, grade submission deadlines. You may wish to use a syllabus date generator such as this one: http://wcaleb.rice.edu/syllabusmaker/generic/ 

Next, add personal dates and appointments. I put these next because you are the only one who can account for these. Your birthday. Important family events (cousin’s wedding? Spouse’s birthday? Parent’s anniversary?) Concert tickets. Grant deadlines. Medical appointments. Conference dates. Travel dates. Daycare pick up. Vet appointments. Note which of these are absolutely fixed, and which are more flexible. After all, you have a life outside of the classroom, and you are best placed to know what that entails. 

Third, add department, professional, college obligations and dates. You likely have less control over these, and potentially less prior warning about them, but they are worth trying to account for even if only roughly. Is there an open house that you’ll be expected to attend? Are there set department meeting times on Tuesday afternoons? Internal scholarship deadlines when students will be asking for reference letters? If you are not starting a new job, you may be in a position to anticipate an approximate pace and time commitment. But even in a new position, some preliminary approximation should be possible, and some fixed expectations should be available. These are reasonable questions to ask.

After these 3 steps, you might be able to recognize some weeks that are already heavy and stressful, prior to your scheduling any course materials or deadlines. Try to flag these. If nothing else, it is useful to be able to anticipate when an intensive week is coming. But ideally, you might be able to schedule some easier teaching weeks to coincide with these heavier commitments weeks, or at least avoid scheduling your heaviest teaching weeks to coincide with already heavy weeks. 

Now, start to draft readings and assignments, but do so by working backwards. When is your marking deadline? How many days or weeks will you need to mark and provide feedback for a given class size or assessment style? How many classes of new material between assignments or tests? How many days or weeks between returning assignments with feedback and starting the next assignment? In each cycle of new material, assessment, and providing feedback, try to schedule some wiggle room in case something comes up. 

On your already flagged heavy weeks, consider scheduling a film viewing or a review session if it’s pedagogically appropriate. Schedule material that you are very comfortable with. Do not schedule your midterm with a 3-day marking turnaround on the week of your parents’ 50th wedding anniversary, nor in the same week as that completely new material. 

At this stage, you may have a preliminary outline of the course and a good preliminary idea of how the pacing will work for you. Highlight the heavy weeks and post reminders in your calendar or other system of organization.

I advise at this stage that you spend a little time thinking through these same issues from a student perspective, which has the added bonus of continuing the project of managing your own pacing and workload. Admittedly, I spend less time on this, but I want to notice ahead of time if I am assigning the two longest and densest readings in the course back to back, or if one week is both a heavy reading week and a heavy assessment week. 

Part of my process is to add a ‘number of pages’ column to the reading list for the course. Obviously, page count is not the only relevant indicator, but it is a tangible metric that students can use to anticipate heavier and (somewhat) lighter weeks. Again, I try to pace the heavy weeks, and sometimes draw out a longer reading over two classes, or replace an excessively long reading with shorter pieces. Making this information available in the syllabus will help students to do the same sort of semester planning.

ChatGPT changes everything… or does it?

Some of the recent ChatGPT panic in higher education is focused around academic integrity. ChatGPT seems to increase the ease of producing coherent writing with very little personal effort, and moreover to do so in a way that cannot be easily detected using pre-existing plagiarism-detection software. On that description, it seems worthy of panic: ‘easier to cheat and harder to detect’ seems a very dramatic shift in the academic integrity landscape.

But looking through the literature on academic integrity, there are at least 2 explanations of academic dishonesty that have not changed with the launch of ChatGPT.

First, the psychology of academic dishonesty seems likely to remain the same even if cost-benefit analysis might shift in the context of ChatGPT. Many studies over the years have asked students and researchers whether they have ever engaged in academically dishonest behaviour, and if so, why? Many of the reasons given in 2019 or 2021 are still the reasons given in the ChatGPT era, so they are worth delving into.

Prior to the launch of ChatGPT, the received wisdom was that conscious violations of academic integrity policies were most likely when students felt cornered. De Maio and Dixon (2022)‘s review finds that students who admit to academic misconduct converge on several reasons or explanations: students tend to cite time pressure, peer pressure, and grade pressure as reasons for their academically dishonest behaviours. Tindall & Curtis (2020) find that “negative emotions” such as stress, anxiety, and depression are correlated with positive attitudes towards plagiarism. In short, students are most likely to engage in academic dishonesty when they feel under pressure, one way or another. Some of these pressures may arise for reasons internal to course design, while others might arise because students are three dimensional people with lives (and pressures) outside of any particular course they may take. Syllabus design can potentially mitigate both.

Secondly, unknowing or ignorant violations of academic integrity requirements represent a significant portion of academic misconduct cases. Ignorance of the nuance of the requirements of academic integrity is frequent amongst students (and not nonexistent among faculty and researchers), so mistaken or accidental or ignorant violations of academic integrity requirements are to be expected. ChatGPT might add to a pre-existing confusion, but only by a matter of degree.

Proceeding with caution

These two features (stress and confusion) are not new with ChatGPT, and they frame my two pronged approach to academic integrity in the era of ChatGPT.

First, in recognition of the proportion of students and academics who are confused by what ChatGPT is or does, take an educative rather than a punitive approach to the existence of ChatGPT. Teach what academic integrity requires for your educational context and explicitly mention ChatGPT. De Maio and Dixon (2022) emphasize that clear academic integrity statements and policies are important for maintaining a culture of academic integrity. McGee (2013) describes how cases of academic dishonesty are higher when expectations are unclear, and points to improvements in academic integrity when academic integrity expectations are made explicit at both the course and institutional level. If your institution has any specific resources on academic integrity or Honor Codes, show your students how to access them.

In the ChatGPT era, this might be as simple as including an explicit ChatGPT statement in the syllabus or in each assignment description. “For this assignment, use of ChatGPT and other LLM AI is not permitted for either generating the assignment nor for editing and improving the assignment.” But, if you go this route, be consistent throughout your course and assessment designs. Include an explicit ChatGPT statement in your syllabus and in each assignment description, because its omission in only one place might be noticed.

If your preference or context allows, you may wish to redesign some assignments to explicitly allow ChatGPT. There are some good ideas for reimagining assessment using ChatGPT out there, with some key points being to keep ChatGPT components explicit and optional, and keep the credit proportional to the effort involved (i.e. likely low-stakes). If you are in a course context where assignment redesign is possible (e.g. small enrolment, low prep load, TA support, full control over assignment and syllabus design, etc.) your colleagues who are not so positioned will appreciate it if you explicitly mention that your ChatGPT-friendly policy applies only to your course, and does not extend to other courses.

But while we are on the subject of assessment design, the second component of my approach to ChatGPT is to acknowledge and work to minimize the psychological stressors known to be used as explanations of explicitly academically dishonest behaviour. Low-stakes and flexible assessments help students mitigate grade-pressure and time-pressure. Offering students choices of prompts, choices of material, choices of occasions, or flexibility with deadlines can all empower students in ways that help them manage their stress. Flexibility in course and assessment design – such as flexible deadlines, flexible forms of engagement, and flexibility in modes of delivery – are part of a Universal Design for Learning approach. Fovet (2020) explains how flexibility and choice serve as components of UDL, and Amrane-Cooper et al (2021) point to a connection between flexibility in assessment design and easing of anxiety.

Sotiriadou et al (2020) suggest that authentic assessment design can reduce incidents of academic dishonesty. Similarly, De Maio and Dixon (2022) point to authentic assessment design and authentic curricula as reducing incidents of academic dishonesty.

Finally, Bretag et al (2019) point to personalized and reflective assignments as less associated with academically dishonest behaviour. Bretag et al (2019) also point to in-class assignments and vivas (oral examinations) as less associated with academically dishonest behaviour, although these assessment styles are more likely to be limited to smaller class sizes.

Over the coming months and years, ChatGPT will get better at doing what it does, and AI detectors may also become more effective. There will be various iterations of large language model AI, and each will have its foibles and its virtues. But if the circumstances surrounding your teaching do not permit a complete course re-design every semester, educating about academic integrity requirements will help students better understand the contours of the academic integrity terrain, while using assessment and course design to acknowledge and support students navigating the pressures and anxieties related to assessment will make it easier for students to continue to choose academic integrity.

In short, not quite everything has changed with the advent of ChatGPT, and not everything can change in response to ChatGPT.

It’s in the Syllabus!

When I was an undergraduate student, a syllabus consisted of only the most basic information for a course, and typically, it fit on a single sheet of paper. A syllabus was a simple list, usually without flourishes:

  • Course name and course code.
  • Professor’s name, contact information, and office hours.
  • Classroom and meeting times for the course.
  • Basic assessments and deadlines (essays, exams, assignments, and how much each was worth).
  • Sometimes, a rough schedule of the weekly reading schedule for the semester.

Times have changed. At the institution I taught at most recently, the syllabus template was 6 pages long prior to describing any of the assessments, or listing any readings. My syllabi over the last few years have typically stretched to about 12 pages, and sometimes more.

The modern syllabus is a much more formal document than the single sided photocopy I was handed on my first day of class. It is sometimes treated as a contract between students and instructor, sometimes treated as a pedagogical tool, and nearly always understood to be the fundamental source of information about a course. It tends to specify policies, rules and regulations, texts, and assignments for a given iteration of a course, especially in cases where courses are offered in multiple sections by different instructors. That makes it a very important resource for each student, and an opportunity for each instructor and course designer.

The problem is that as syllabi have grown in length and detail, they have also become increasingly inaccessible and overwhelming. Understandably, students don’t always read these multi-page documents full of legalese policy statements and multiple changes in formatting. Even when students do read the syllabus, they may predictably miss important details. Students miss crucial course information so ubiquitously that an industry of memes has popped up around redirecting students towards the syllabus. Mocking students for struggling to find crucial course information is neither mature nor productive, and I don’t recommend it. But, what should instructors do?

There are very good reasons to include as much course information as possible in the syllabus, but the more information is included, the more likely it is that any particular piece of information will be overlooked. It is a good idea to include as much information as possible, because this is the document that students will return to the most. Many colleges and universities view the syllabus as a policy document or contract, deviation from which is problematic. For this reason, the syllabus really does need to be comprehensive. But, as a result, students will not read every word of it, and that’s okay. I have a few strategies to help you – and your students – get the most out of the syllabus.

  1. Reframe

First, recognize that the student is not the problem. The syllabus’s length and comprehensiveness is both the problem and a desirable feature, and it is more or less set in stone by institutional policies. Focus your energy on incentivizing referencing the syllabus regularly, and additional energy on building nets (and networks) to help everyone get the information they need, when they need it. Additionally, recognize that every student is different, and a diversity of student learners is a good thing. Some students will read through the entirety of every syllabus, but that it is perfectly reasonable that some (or many) students will not.

2. Redundancy

It is worth building redundancy into the syllabus. Make sure that the most important information (deadlines and avenues of communication) are communicated in more than one way. Perhaps they arise more than once on the syllabus, and perhaps they are additionally available through course webpages. As deadlines approach, highlight them in course communications (lectures, announcements, emails, etc.). Offer multiple pathways to find the same information.

3. Easter Eggs

Incentivize reading through the syllabus. Some people use syllabus quizzes to ensure that their students absorb the most important information in the syllabus. I once taught a course that offered a bonus mark (of 0.5%) for completing an introductory discussion post. It wasn’t hidden in the course materials, but the bonus mark wasn’t highlighted as much as other material. If they found information about the bonus mark, they were likely to find other more important information about the course in the process. I’m not sure what I think about hiding money and directing students to it in the syllabus, but it seems designed to prove that students don’t read the syllabus, rather than incentivizing reading the syllabus in the first place.

In recent courses, I have asked students to include a cute animal picture with each email. I view it as my own version of the brown M&M rider. If students email me with a cute picture attached, I know that they have had a good look at the syllabus and haven’t found the information they were looking for. (And they are probably not alone.) I’ll answer the question and add a course announcement on the course webpage, or a post on an FAQ page, or send out a course-wide email. If they email me without the cute picture attached, it’s no big deal, but it’s slightly more likely that asking me is their first port of call. And that is useful information, too. In either case, I will try to answer the question they have asked and also direct them to where they might find more information, but I’m less likely to generalize my response to an email without a cute animal picture.

4. Accessibility

Of course, all syllabi should use accessible and screen-reader-compatible formats. Choose accessible fonts and document formats. Provide alt-text for any images. Check the (minimum) accessibility requirements at your institution, but see if you can aim higher than that.

It should be clear by now that I am not impressed by the ‘It’s in the Syllabus!’ memes. They belittle students for something that is perfectly reasonable and understandable. So, when you are working on your next syllabus, remember to think about it from the student’s perspective, and create a document that will help the whole class to get on the same page throughout the course.