It’s Not Just the Phones. Harvard Has a Lecture Problem.

Last semester, I would count how many students in my introductory economics class were visibly engaged during lecture. All of us could usually fit on one hand. In a class devoted to how incentives shape behavior, it seemed there was little incentive for my classmates to pay attention.

My corner of Sanders Theater was not an anomaly. Last January, a report by the Classroom Social Compact Committee asserted that many Harvard students forgo assigned reading and fail to regularly attend class, and suggested those that do rarely contribute meaningfully to the classroom — some succumbing to the allure of their computers, others afraid of saying anything controversial.

The report spoke some hard truths about Harvard’s dormant classroom culture. However, the deluge of guidelines and reforms meant to solve this problem have, so far, primarily focused on student conduct: measures like grade deflation or Economics 10’s sparsely populated device-free section place most of the blame on students, which only addresses part of the problem.

Thus far, Harvard’s leaders have missed the opportunity to address the structural facets of the classroom environment that keep students disengaged. Many Harvard classes rely upon an archetype of lecture-based instruction that can hinder meaningful learning.

Without any measures to facilitate student reflection, lecture courses often fail to carve out time and space for active participation, which boxes students into passive receivers of information rather than testing their ability to evaluate and synthesize new ideas or articulate arguments of their own.

In my first-year seminar on the history of capitalism, my professor had to cover a substantial body of historical context and research, requiring ample lecture-based instruction as a result. But the consistent class-time allocation for group discussion challenged me to evaluate primary source material and articulate my historical argument clearly.

Down to the physical orientation of the classroom — a circle of desks, all facing each other — the class pushed me to weigh the competing perspectives of my classmates, immersing me in the kind of intellectual challenge that an hour-long lecture simply can’t create.

Several scientific studies support this idea and stress the importance of seminar-style features to an immersive learning environment. One Harvard study from 2019 found that student learning, as determined by test scores, increased when students took part in “active learning” classrooms compared to lecture-style instruction. Likewise, a meta-analysis examining medical school classes also observed that seminar-based learning was associated with improved teaching outcomes and stronger clinical thinking skills.

This is not because seminars are inherently superior, but rather because their format makes it easier for students to actively engage with course content.

Faculty who prefer the lecture format can turn towards the seminar environment for ways to encourage more student contribution. For example, my first lecture experience, Government 10: “Foundations of Political Theory,” conducted frequent polls on student reactions to the professor’s arguments, ensuring that students were paying attention and thinking critically about various ideas during class.

Breaking lectures into smaller discussion groups, implementing think-pair-share exercises, or creating structured debate formats can all challenge students’ critical thinking abilities and help their intellectual growth as a result.

The faculty report got one thing right: Harvard’s classroom culture needs to change. However, attempts to change student behavior will not reverse a school-wide crisis in classroom rigor. The College is equally responsible for providing an intellectual experience that welcomes student participation.

Harvard students didn’t come here to be talked at. We came for the transformative education that Harvard promises. That transformation is only possible when our education trains us to think, speak, and debate ideas ourselves.

Sabrina H. Ottaway ’29, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a History concentrator in Quincy House.