March 20, 2011:  The Freewheelin' Credit Hour

Back in October, the Education Department sent shock waves through the higher education community when it challenged the industry's rather nebulous definition of a "credit hour," the basic building block of every degree offered by every institution.  Not surprisingly, many within higher education reacted with concern, consternation,and cynicism.

On Friday, the Department clarified the "credit hour" regulation with one of a series of "Dear Colleague Letters" that aim to clarify all the various regulations regarding "program integrity regulations."  The letter totals 15 pages, although four pages present primary text and the other eleven provide appendices, talking points, and supplements.  I should earn an hour's worth of credit just for being able to get through it while staying awake.

The truth of the matter is that, as with many other debates within higher education, both sides have a valid point.  The "standard" of a credit hour can often be maddeningly unclear; yet it may be necessary for this basic unit of education to be dependent upon situation and context.

All of this freewheeling has put me in the mind for a little Bob Dylan.

"Blowin' In The Spin"

How many hours must a man take on before you grant him credit?
Yes, and how many tests must a teacher give before the students get it?
And how many times must the government intrude before they finally forget it?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the spin.
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the spin.

How many years can an outcome exist before it's proven to be sound?
Yes, and how many years can some courses exist before value is found?
And how many times can a peer turn his head when review time comes around?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the spin.
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the spin.

How much Bloom's must a man look up before he has a true gauge?
And how much seat time can one man have before he can quiet public rage?
Yes, and how many pages will it take 'til he knows that it's only a blank page?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the spin.
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the spin.