“Learning is not a spectator sport.”
– D. Blocher
Before critically inquiring into Coursera’s learning platform, specifically one of its many “free” offerings, The Digital Divide (Goodwill Industries International n.d.), I had no experience with the site.
My expectations were set by my familiarity with similar platforms like LinkedIn Learning and Udemy, where learning is mainly passive, based on video content, and offers minimal social interaction; Coursera was no different.
A Deeper Look
Like many users, I had only engaged with these platforms at a surface level. I saw them as tools for quick overviews, especially for technical or software topics, rather than as sources of deep learning. Certificates from such courses frequently appear on social media, often with bold labels like “Expert in Cloud Infrastructure,” which I find difficult to take seriously. It’s hard to imagine that watching 4–8 hours of video could result in expertise on that complex topic. Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of having complex knowledge, skills and attitudes uploaded to our brains like Neo from the Matrix (Silver et al., 1999), “I know Kung Fu”. This popular movie quote comes to mind and makes me cringe every time I see one of these video learning certificates.
Until recently, I hadn’t considered why these platforms felt inadequate beyond a gut feeling. However, through our research into Coursera and my peers’ investigation into YouTube, the reasons began to come into focus. Most notably, many platforms lack a foundation in proven pedagogical design, often disregarding well-established learning theories. This reflects a form of technological determinism, where the technology is chosen first and the educational experience is forced to conform to its constraints. Fawns (2022) explains that this “technology-first” mindset detaches technology from pedagogy, resulting in a mismatch between educational needs and learning environments. Although platforms like Coursera and YouTube may have been designed with good intentions, there is an opportunity to revisit and enhance both the technology and its underlying pedagogical design capabilities to better support the specific needs of diverse learners; As Fawns (2022) highlights, pedagogy and technology are inevitably entangled and must be co-designed with context, values, and purpose awareness.
Algorithmic Content Bias
One of the most troubling aspects is how these platforms use algorithms to drive engagement, not social engagement, but artificial engagement to let the platform know you are willing to watch or like something. In turn, recommendations are based on popularity or what you will likely watch, creating an echo chamber, whereas recommendations should be based on the quality of education; this quality of education is correlated with likes and watch counts, simplifying the complexity of pedagogical design. This commercial logic incentivizes course creators to focus on content that will attract the most views rather than what challenges learners or promotes critical thinking. As a result, courses on politically sensitive or inherently complex topics can be underrepresented or avoided entirely.
Democratization of Education
Despite their limitations, I recognize the positive potential of online learning platforms. They offer a unique opportunity to democratize education, allowing skilled educators, who may not have access to traditional academic systems, to share knowledge, reach global audiences, and even earn a living. This openness is valuable and worth preserving. However, it places a heavy burden on these educators to walk a fine line, creating content that appeals to platform algorithms while still following educational best practices. The challenge lies in that technology companies driven by business models own these platforms focused on ad revenue, engagement metrics, and royalties, not necessarily on learning outcomes. Success is often measured by how entertaining or watchable a course is, rather than by how well it fosters deep understanding.
To illustrate what kind of “education” gets a thumbs-up, I recall that as a K–12 student, some of my most exciting days were when the teacher rolled in a TV and played a Disney movie like WALL-E, a practice that still happens today. Last week, my fourth-grade child watched WALL-E at school and came home saying she learned that “we need to work hard and protect the planet or we’ll end up like them in space.” While WALL-E delivers a cautionary tale about environmental collapse and technological dependence, I wonder: does it truly invite critical thinking, or is it simply an engaging, fleeting message presented in an exciting, colourful video, a presentation that is likely to get a thumbs up?
Conclusion
Ultimately, we must ask: What kind of education are we building? If we prioritize convenience and entertainment over challenge and depth, we risk widening the divides these platforms claim to bridge. As learners, educators, and designers, we have a responsibility to advocate for learning experiences that are accessible and meaningful, and which require rethinking what success looks like in the age of digital education. How can we balance the affordances of learning platforms that bridge the gap between teacher and student through time and space, but still create meaningful educational experiences?
References
Fawns, T. (2022). An entangled pedagogy: Looking beyond the pedagogy—technology dichotomy. Postdigital Science and Education, 4, 711–728. https://doi.org/10.1007/s42438-022-00302-7
Goodwill Industries International. (n.d.). The digital divide [Online course]. Coursera. https://www.coursera.org/learn/the-digital-divide
Silver, J. (Producer), & Wachowski, L., & Wachowski, L. (Directors). (1999). The Matrix [Film]. Warner Bros.
Williams, S. (2023, January 2). 39 education quotes to increase motivation and engagement
Great perspective, Allie. I, too, am skeptical of the micro-credential celebrations on platforms like LinkedIn. I sometimes click through to the relevant course and have noted that many of them are only one hour in length. I don’t see much practical value in a one-hour ‘AI fundamentals’ course, especially when compared to the ability to have a conversation about a real project where the application of skills can be demonstrated. Maybe the value lies elsewhere.
We might benefit from looking at these micro-credentials from an adjusted perspective. Diab et al. found that micro-credentials do carry value and may communicate more about personalities—such as a person’s growth mindset and commitment to ongoing, lifelong learning (2023). Perhaps the outward perception is of more value than the specific credential. If you were considering two candidates, one whose most recent education is a university degree from 15 years ago, versus one with a 15-year-old vocational certificate plus a consistent cadence of obtaining modern micro-credentials, which would you expect to be a more flexible, dedicated, and forward-thinking contributor?
Without reading your reflection, I don’t know if I ever would have scrutinised my thoughts around micro-credentials; however, I do think credential-celebration fatigue is a risk. Instead of the continual stream of micro-credential celebrations, how would you perceive a learning gauge that demonstrates that a user is “dedicated” after having completed at least one micro-credential per month for the last year? When prioritising challenge and depth in our education analyses, maybe we should include something like devotion.
References
Diab, M. I. R. N. A., & Zhang, M. I. N. G. Y. U. A. N. (2023). Perceptions of industry professionals from diverse sectors on post-secondary micro-credentials on Linkedin. International Journal of Research in Education Humanities and Commerce, 4(2), 93-115. https://doi.org/10.37602/IJREHC.2023.4211
I believe education really comes down to what the student puts into it. A micro-credential by itself doesn’t prove someone has real knowledge, skills, or ability. A lot of these video-based courses (MOOCs) are passive, they just present information. Some platforms try to include social learning, but it’s optional, and it’s up to the student to get involved.
In my experience, Udacity does a good job of not only teaching content but also testing skills. That said, the assessments can be pretty easy to pass, so again, it depends on how much effort the student puts in. People naturally tend to take the easiest route, so if the industry continues to accept and recognize micro-credentials without questioning their credibility, people will keep collecting them without real learning. This leads to inflated claims, like huge alumni numbers, glowing testimonials, and overhyped course success.
Maybe that’s okay for some, but personally, I tend to ignore certificates from platforms like LinkedIn Learning and Coursera. I do take Udacity more seriously, mainly because it includes more hands-on skills assessments; but even then, I look for more portfolio pieces that demonstrate more meaningful learning and or application of the skills.
I very much agree with your perspectives Allie, particularly the technological determinism of platforms like Coursera. Throughout my research on the commercial side of Coursera, I encountered many problematic practices and philosophies embedded in the platform. As I delved deeper into the topic, I encountered discussions on the underlying incentives and motivations driving this techno-optimistic view of ed tech. There’s a pervasive theme that education is somehow broken and that ed tech will be its saviour. That is, until you start pulling apart the messaging, the questionable pedagogy, the behavioural manipulation, and the extractive practices to see that it’s just another instrument driving the neoliberalisation of society.
And to be clear, Coursera was not the worst platform by any means, it has many positive qualities and outcomes. The problem is that it, like the majority of for-profit ed tech companies, functions as a political, social, and economic actor, reshaping the education sector to conform to market paradigms. While it looks like ed tech funding continues to drop, perhaps signalling the realisation that the education market is not as lucrative as once thought, the investors are now making “bigger bets” (HolonIQ, 2025).
It’s incredibly demoralising that the potential future of education is being treated like a poker game. As such, this adds another facet to your question, “What kind of education are we building?” What kind, indeed.
References
HolonIQ. (2025). EdTech funding drops again in early 2025. Fewer deals, but bigger bets. https://www.holoniq.com/notes/edtech-funding-drops-again-in-early-2025-fewer-deals-but-bigger-bets
I’m glad you’re noticing the same patterns I am , it reassures me that I’m not just being overly critical.
One issue I’ve seen on platforms like Coursera is how they often exaggerate the duration of their courses. Just this week, I took a course on AI ethics and security that had three modules. Each module was supposed to take a week to complete, with about 64 minutes of effort. But when I looked closely, 48 of those minutes were optional readings and discussion prompts. The only required content was about 16 minutes of video per module, and I usually watch videos at 2x speed, so really, just 8 minutes.
After the video, there were 16 multiple-choice questions split across three quizzes. Each quiz was estimated to take 15 minutes, but in reality, they took me about a minute each.
That’s just one module out of three. When people see a course labeled as “three weeks long,” they may assume it contains a deep, meaningful amount of content, and that makes sense. We associate longer durations with more serious learning. But in this case, only about 12% to 25% of the claimed time was actually required. The rest was just filler or optional.
It makes me wonder: What kind of education system are we building? One that serves the goals of neoliberal capitalism, prioritizing short-term corporate benefits, instead of aiming for long-term societal good.
Thank you for this insightful and well-articulated post Allie. I really appreciate how you moved beyond a surface critique of platforms like Coursera and dug into the structural and pedagogical issues that shape the user experience. Your reflection on “algorithmic content bias” struck a particular chord with me, especially the idea that engagement metrics have become proxies for educational quality. This creates a worrying incentive structure that privileges entertainment over rigor, and visibility over substance.
I also appreciated your mention of technological determinism and how many platforms adopt a “technology-first” approach. Fawns’ (2022) argument about entangled pedagogy is so important here, learning design can’t be an afterthought or something retrofitted to the affordances of the platform. Instead, we need platforms built with pedagogy in mind from the outset, allowing educators to challenge learners rather than cater to algorithms.
Your Disney/WALL-E example was a perfect metaphor: it reminds me how often educational experiences are designed to feel meaningful without requiring much critical engagement. This is where the risk of “click, watch, repeat” becomes more than just a habit, it becomes a pedagogy of passivity.
Still, I appreciated your nuanced conclusion. Despite these challenges, there is potential for platforms to democratize education and amplify diverse voices, if only we can reorient platform design toward values like learner agency, epistemic diversity, and deep understanding.
Thanks again for such a compelling read, it gives us a lot to think about as learners, designers, and educators navigating this digital terrain.