The Postech Times asked two professors to consider how the direction of university teaching might change.
A Comparison of Lecture-Based Classes and Student-Participation Classes
Naturally, both teaching methods have their merits and drawbacks; thus, the answer depends on the objective of the course. If the primary goal is the simple transfer of knowledge, a lecture-based approach is more efficient. The professor only needs to convey what they know in an easy-to-understand manner.
However, knowledge transfer requires a willing recipient. For uninterested students, lectures go in one ear and out the other, making the session a mutual waste of time. For professors, lecturing to an indifferent audience is draining and breeds self-doubt: Why bother if they do not care? Unlike high school teachers, university professors feel no obligation to coax reluctant students. They treat students as adults responsible for their own choices; if a student is disengaged, they simply let them face the consequences.
Therefore, lecture-based classes can be considered efficient only under the assumption that the students are interested and engaged in the subject matter.
One way to supplement these shortcomings is student-participation classes focused on discussions and projects. Instead of “spoon-feeding” facts, this approach motivates students to solve problems independently. Although time-consuming and narrower in scope, it is educationally efficient; hands-on experience and peer interaction foster deeper, lasting understanding. Unlike abstract lectures, these practical methods naturally engage even uninterested students through active participation.
If lecture-based classes benefit only those already interested in the content, student-participation classes can ultimately be beneficial to a much wider range of students.
Personally, I prefer writing on a chalkboard during class rather than over those using digital presentation. While digital presentations are fast, projected text is visually tiring and harder to remember. Chalkboard writing is slow, which is an advantage as it allows students to follow the professor's thought process, and the contrast of white chalk on a dark background is easier on the eyes than bright digital screens.
On the other hand, I am not a fan of whiteboards due to their practical flaws. Markers often run dry without warning, and their volatile odor can be overwhelming. Maintenance is inconsistent, and forgetting to cap them renders them useless. Furthermore, the glossy surface reflects light, causing glare that hinders readability. These technical distractions disrupt concentration, explaining why departments like mathematics maintain a strong preference for traditional chalkboards.
Is Lecture-Based Teaching a Problem?: Yes. It is.
As an undergraduate student, I did not like sitting in lecture rooms. I was bored. I would doodle, space out, or even fall asleep. (I’m talking about you, Physics 100.) Perhaps I wasn’t a great student, or perhaps it is just very difficult for a professor to captivate an audience for an entire class-length of time.
Then, I had Ken Asher as a professor. In his literary theory class, students were prompted to “create a discussion question to ask the class.” All we did in class was ask our questions and talk. Suddenly, we had a shining responsibility; we were at the center of the learning. Our questions probably weren’t good from an expert’s perspective, but that was exactly the point. This method allowed us to approach the material from where we stood, with the knowledge we had at the time.
This was a revelation. We discussed and debated while the instructor, despite his PhD and decades of expertise, participated alongside us as a guide rather than a “sage-on-the-stage.” He prompted us, clarified ideas, and nudged the conversation forward, meeting us where we were to help us move a little further.
I felt this responsibility even more in creative writing classes, where we wrote stories and poems, then offered critiques. No one was a good writer yet, and the feedback wasn’t especially professional—but that was beside the point. The structure allowed us to enter the discipline on our own two feet. We learned by attempting, failing, and revising—again and again.
This is not only true in the humanities. A 2014 meta-analysis in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that in STEM classrooms, 55% more students fail in lecture-based classes, while test grades are 6% higher in active classrooms (Freeman, et al). Many more studies support this: people do not learn best by listening. They learn by doing, asking questions, and confronting gaps in their understanding. This does not mean eliminating expert explanation; it means using it strategically to support meaningful student activity.
This philosophy shapes my English classes at POSTECH. Students create their own discussion questions, prepare short lectures, and produce podcasts or documentaries. They stand in front of their peers and say, “This is what I was able to do with what I learned.”
Of course, this method isn’t perfect. The rise of AI has complicated things; discussion questions can be generated instantly, and homework can be “completed” without thought. At that point, the instructor becomes less a teacher and more a detective, scanning for misuse and penalizing clumsy shortcuts.
But this challenge does not invalidate student-centered learning; it reinforces the need for it. When learning is tied to authentic tasks and in-class thinking, shortcuts become less effective—and genuine engagement becomes harder to fake.
Lecture-based teaching is not useless, but on its own, it is insufficient. The strongest classrooms today are not those that abandon expertise, but those that refuse passivity. They recognize that learning happens when students are asked to think, speak, create, and take responsibility for what they know and what they do not yet understand.
