Light is actively bounced out of the eye towards objects, so we can see
Keith S. Taber
Sophia was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. Y8 pupil Sophia had been studying sound and light in her school science lessons. Her model of sight involved light entering the eye, but then reflecting out again.
Do you know how you hear and see?
Does the light come in your eye, and it reflects off so you can see. … Just reflects, does it, and bounces on.
So if I've got my eye, some light comes in, some light comes in, what does it do, it bounces where?
About.
Inside the eye?
No around … it bounces out.
And then what?
Then you can see…so you look where you want to see, so it bounces off like in that direction, …you've got to actually look over, …you've got to look that way.
One long-established historical model of sight was based on rays coming from the eyes to detect objects in the outside world. Sophia's model appears to be a hybrid of this historical model, and modern understandings. For Sophia, light does not originate form the eye, but bounds out of it towards the object of sight. The idea that something must come out of the eye for us to see seems to be an intuitive assumption some people make – perhaps because we actually turn out heads and direct out eyes at what we want to focus on. This intuition has potential to act as a grounded learning impediment to learning the scientific model for vision.
It's covalent bonding where the electrons are shared to create a full outer shell
Keith S. Taber
Brian was a participant in the Understanding Chemical Bonding project. He was interviewed during the first year of his college 'A level' course (equivalent to Y12 of the English school system). Brian was shown, and asked about, a sequence of images representing atoms, molecules and other sub-microscopic structures of the kinds commonly used in chemistry teaching. He was shown a simple representation of a covalent molecule:
Focal figure ('2') presented to Brian
Any idea what that's meant to be, number 2?
Hydrogen molecule.
Why, how do you recognise that as being a hydrogen molecule?
Because there's two atoms with one electron in each shell.
Uh hm. Er, what, what's going on here, in this region here, where these lines seem to meet?
Bonding.
That's bonding. So there's some sort of bonding there is there?
Yeah.
Can you tell me anything about that bonding?
It's covalent bonding.
So, so what's covalent bonding, then?
The electrons are shared to create a full outer shell.
Okay, so that's an example of covalent bonding, so can you tell me how many bonds there are there?
One.
There's one covalent bond?
Yeah.
Right, what exactly is a covalent bond?
It's where electrons are shared, almost, roughly equally, between the two atoms.
So that's what we'd call a covalent bond?
Yeah.
So according to Brian, covalent bonding is where "the electrons are shared to create a full outer shell". The idea that a covalent bond is the sharing of electrons to allow atoms to obtain full electron shells is a very common way of discussing covalent bonding, drawing upon the full shells explanatory principle, where a 'need' for completing electron shells is seen as the impetus for bonding, reactions, ion formation etc. This principle is the basis of a common alternative conceptual framework, the octet rule framework.
For some students, such ideas are the extent of their ways of discussing bonding phenomena. However, despite Brian defining the covalent bond in this way, continued questioning revealed that he was able to think about the bond in terms of physical interactions
Okay. And why do they, why do these two atoms stay stuck together like that? Why don't they just pull apart?
Because of the bond.
So how does the bond do that?
(Pause, c.13s)
Is it by electrostatic forces?
Is it – so how do you think that works then?
I'm not sure.
The long pause suggests that Brian did not have a ready formed response for such a question. It seems here that 'electrostatic forces' is little more than a guess, if perhaps an informed guess because charges and forces had features in chemistry. A pause of about 13 seconds is quite a lacuna in a conversation. In a classroom context teachers are advised to give students thinking time rather than expecting (or accepting) immediate responses. Yet, in many classrooms, 13 seconds of 'dead air' (to borrow a phrase from broadcasting) from the teacher night be taken as an invitation to retune attention to another station.
Even in an interview situation the interviewer's instinct may be to move on to a another question, but in situations where a researcher is confident that waiting is not stressful to the participant, it is sometimes productive to give thinking time.
Another issue relating to interviewing is the use of 'leading questions'. Teachers as interviewers sometimes slip between researcher and teacher roles, and may be tempted to teach rather than explore thinking.
Yet, the very act of interviewing is an intervention in the learners' thinking, in that whatever an interviewer tells us is in the context of the conversation set up by the interviewer, and the participant may have ideas they would not have done without that particular context. In any case, learning is not generally a once off event, as school learning relies on physiological process long after the initial teaching event to consolidate learning, and this is supported by 'revision'. Each time a memory is reactivated it is strengthened (and potentially changed).
So the research interview is a learning experience no matter how careful the researcher is. Therefore the idea of leading questions is much more nuanced that a binary distinction between those questions which are leading and those that are not. So rather than completely avoiding leading questions, the researcher should (a) use open-ended questions initially to best understand the ideas the learner most easily beings to mind; (b) be aware of the degree of 'scaffolding' that Socratic questioning can contribute to the construction of a learners' answer. [Read about the idea of scaffolding learning here.] The interview continued:
Can you see anything there that would give rise to electrostatic forces?
The electrons.
Right so the electrons, they're charged are they?
Yeah. Negatively.
Negatively charged – anything else?
(Pause, c.8s)
The protons in the nucleus are positively charged.
Uh hm. And so would that give rise to any electronic interactions?
Yeah.
So where would there be, sort of any kind of, any kind of force involved here is there?
By the bond.
So where would there be force, can you show me where there would be force?
By the, in the bond, down here.
So the force is localised in there, is it?
The erm, protons would be repelling each other, they'd be attracted by the electrons, so they're keep them at a set distance.
It seemed that Brian could discuss the bond as due to electrical interactions, although his initial ('instinctive') response was to explain the bond in terms of electrons shared to fill electron shells. Although the researcher channelled Brian to think about the potential source of any electrical interactions, this was only after Brian had himself conjectured the role of 'electrostatic forces.'
Often students learn to 'explain' bonds as electron sharing in school science (although arguably this is a rather limited form of explanation), and this becomes a habitual way of talking and thinking by the time they progress to college level study.
Iodine's got a larger force that lithium, so it will pull towards the lithium more
Keith S. Taber
Annie was a participant in the Understanding Chemical Bonding project. She was interviewed near the start of her college 'A level' course (equivalent to Y12 of the English school system). Annie was shown, and asked about, a sequence of images representing atoms, molecules and other sub-microscopic structures of the kinds commonly used in chemistry teaching.
When she was shown an image representing the electron cloud around an iodide ion polarised by an adjacent lithium ion Annie interpreted this as the iodine exerting a greater force on the lithium than vice versa.
Focal figure presented to Annie
What about this, any idea about this?
It's the same sort of thing again – the lithium combines with the iodine – to make a stable outer shell between the two, by sharing electrons, but the lithium has a smaller charge, or smaller pull than the iodine, so the actual shape of it goes in towards. It sort of goes inwards because its attracting the lithium, whereas if the lithium was attracting it, it would be like a reverse picture.
So, so the iodine's attracting what, sorry?
The lithium.
The iodine's attracting the lithium, and the lithium is not attracting the iodine?
Yeah, they're both attracting each other but because this one's got a larger force, then it will pull towards the lithium more.
The iodine's got a larger force,
Yeah.
so it will pull towards the lithium more?
Yeah.
Any image used to represented chemical bonding is necessarily a kind of model, and a partial representation – and there are a range of types of representations students meet. It is perhaps not surprising if students cannot always 'guess what the teacher (or textbook author or researcher) is thinking, and what they intend by a particular type of image.
Annie here demonstrates the common notion that chemical bonding can be based upon 'sharing' electrons (i.e., covalent bonding). At this point in her course Annie would not be expected to appreciate polar bonds or the polarisation of ions, but her prior learning that covalent bonding could be understood as 'sharing' of electrons could potentially act as an impediment to learning that the ionic-covalent bonding distinction should be seen as a spectrum, a continuous dimension, not a dichotomy.
The way forces are understood in physics is that they are interactions between two bodies, and that the same magnitude of force acts of both bodies (i.e., Newton's third law). However, students commonly consider that a 'larger' body (e.g., more massive, more highly charged) exerts a large force on the smaller body. Students do not clearly distinguish the force from its effect, and so this alternative conception seems to draw upon intuitions based on actual experience of the world (i.e., a grounded learning impediment) where larger sources (larger fires, bigger loudspeakers, larger lamps) often seem to have larger effects.
Adrian was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. When I spoke to him during the his first year (Y12) of his 'A level' course he told me he had been studying quantum theory, and I asked him about the name 'quantum theory'. He suggested that a theory is an idea that can be proven, but struggled to suggest any other scientific theories.
What about the theory of evolution? Would you count that as a theory?
Yes, but I am not familiar with it. Was it e=mc²?
That's relativity.
Relativity.
I was thinking evolution?
I don't know that one.
Not sure about evolution at all?
No.
Of course there is more than one theory of evolution, but natural selection was a compulsory topic in the school curriculum, and widely referred to as 'the theory of evolution'. Adrian, however, seemed to have no recollection of hearing about evolution at all. It is inconceivable that he had not met the term in school or elsewhere, but it was not something he was bringing to mind in response to my questioning.
Mohammed was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. When interviewed in the first term of his upper secondary (GCSE) science course (in Y10), he told me he had been learning about ionic bonding in one of his science classes. Mohammed had quite a clear idea about ionic bonding, which he described in terms of the interactions of two atoms where "they both want to get full outer shells", leading to salt which was "like two atoms joined together":
The "two atoms joined together" sounds much like a molecule (and it is very common for students to identify molecule like ion-pairs even in representations of extensive ionic lattices), so I asked Mohammed about this:
Can I see these atoms?
No. They're really small. Because the wavelength of visible light is actually too like large to see the atoms, they just pass over them.
Okay, so I can't see them. But I can imagine them, can I?
Yeah.
So if I could imagine a sodium atom and chlorine atom, and then they form salt, what would it look like afterwards? How could I imagine it afterwards.
Oh it's like two atoms joined together.
That sounds like a molecule to me?
It's not actually, like, joined.
No?
Because I know that whenever things of opposite charge, I know two rods, when they come together, they don't actually touch, so they don't exactly touch, but they are very close, two atoms close to each other
So a molecule would be different to that in some way, would it?
Yeah, a molecule's actually bonded
So how that different?
I think in a molecule, the electron actually slots into spaces.
I see, and it doesn't do that in this case?
No.
So Mohammed thinks that the interaction between the ions will be due to their electrical charges, but, for him, this may not count as a bond, as the forces just hold the ions ("atoms") close together, and do not actually join them. Mohammed's idea of the atoms not actually touching, "they don't actually touch, so they don't exactly touch", is transferring a notion from the familiar world of macroscopic phenomena (where things touch, or they do not touch) to the submicroscopic world of quanticles that do not have definitive size/volume, and do not actually have distinct surfaces, so touching is a matter of degree. There is no more (or less) 'touching' in a covalent bond than in ionic bonding. So according to Mohammed the ions do not form a molecule, as in a molecule there would some kind of more direct joining – he suggests something like an interlocking with electrons from one atom slotting into spaces on another.
Interestingly, Mohammed bases his notion that the ions would not touch on a general principle that he considers to apply whenever considering things of opposite charge – which he justifies on his knowledge that "two [charged] rods, when they come together, they don't actually touch". He may be misremembering something here – or he may have seen a demonstration of suspended charged rods of the same material (so either both negatively or both positively changed) that when one is moved closer to the other the rods repel. Whatever the source, Mohammed seems to feel he has a valid general principle that he can apply here that act as a grounded learning impediment channelling his thinking about the case under discussion along 'the wrong lines'.
Mohammed's notion of the ionic bonding as being just due to forces rather than being a proper bond is very similar to a common alternative conceptions of ionic bonding which sees ions in a lattice only having a limited number of ionic bonds depending upon valency (the valency conjecture) but bonded with other coordination counter-ions by 'just forces' (the just forces conjecture) – although here Mohammed suspected that all ionic bonding fell short of being proper chemical bonds.
This is a very mechanical model of the covalent bond, whereas the scientific model presents bonding as more of a process than a material mechanical link. However teaching models often present bonding this way, and sometimes molecules are modelled in terms of jigsaws with atoms or radicals as pieces to be slotted together. Although such models are only meant to provide a simple analogy for the bonding they may act as learning impediments if learners take them too 'literally' as realistic representations and transfer inappropriate associations from the model to their understanding of the system being modelled.
Mohammed also uses similar language when asked about salt dissolving in water, as the charge of the water forces the sodium and chlorine ions to slot into certain places within the water molecules *.
Mohammed was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. When interviewed in the first term of his upper secondary (GCSE) science course (in Y10), he told me he had been learning about ionic bonding in one of his science classes. Mohammed had quite a clear idea about ionic bonding, which he described in terms of the interactions of two atoms:
And you said in chemistry you've been doing about electron arrangements [electronic configurations], and ionic bonding.
Yeah.
So what's ionic bonding, then?
Ionic bonding is when, like let's say, a sodium atom and take a chlorine atom, which make salt if they react. What happens is – the sodium atom has one electron on its outer shell, and the chlorine atom has seven, now they both want to get full outer shells, so if I er let's say move the electron from the sodium to the chlorine, then the chlorine would have a full outer shell because it would have eight, and because it's lost that shell the sodium will also have eight.
This account of ionic bonding is a common one, although it is inconsistent with the scientific model. A key problem here is that the driving force for bond formation is seen in terms of atoms wanting to complete their electron shells (the 'full shells explanatory principle'). Mohammed's explanation here uses anthropomorphism, as it treats the individual atoms as though they are alive and sentient, acting to meet their own needs – "they both want to get full outer shells".
When Mohammed was probed, he related a full outer shell to atomic stability (a central feature of the full shells explanatory principle).
Okay. How do you know they want full outer shells?
Because it makes them more stable.
Why does it make them more stable?
(pause, c.1 s)
Erm. (Why do electrons?*) (* sotto voce – apparently said to himself)
(pause, c.2s)
Er, because they don't react as much with other elements if they have a full outer shell.
I see.
They don't react.
There is an interesting contrast here between Mohammed's instant response that full shells "makes them more stable", and the long pause as he thought about why this might be so.
His response reflects something quite common in students' explanations n that a student asked why X is the case may respond by explaining why they think X is the case. (That is, as if an appropriate answer to the question "why is it raining so heavily?" would be "because I got soaked through getting here", i.e. actually responding to the question "how do you know that it is raining heavily?")
Such responses seem to be logically flawed, but of course may be a mis-perception of the question being asked (so the learner is answering the question they thought was asked), or (possibly the case here) substituting a response to a related question as a strategy adopted when aware that one cannot provide a satisfactory response to the actual question posed.
The anthropomorphic aspect of his earlier answer was probed:
How do the atoms know that they need to get a full outer shell, they want to get a full outer shell? Do they know about this stability thing?
Not really.
No?
It's just what happens.
Oh, I see, it's just what happens?
Yeah.
So although Mohammed used an anthropomorphic explanation, it seemed he did not mean this literally. (It may seem strange to suggest a 14 year old might consider atoms alive and sentient, but research suggests this is sometimes so!) This has been described as weak anthropomorphism, where the anthropomorphism is only used as a figure of speech. However, such language can act as a grounded learning impediment because if it becomes habitual it can stand in place of a scientific explanation (thus giving no reason to seek a canonical scientific understanding).
Sophia was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. In Y7, Sophia had told me that if molten iron was heated "some of it would evaporate but not all of it, 'cause it's not like water and it's more heavy". She thought only "a little" of the iron would evaporate to give iron vapour: The rest "really just stays as a liquid". [See 'Iron is too heavy to completely evaporate'.]
Just over a year later (in Y8) Sophia had been studying "that different erm substances have different freezing and melting and boiling points, and some aren't like a liquid at room temperatures, some are a solid and some are a gas and things like that".
Give me an example of something else that's a solid at room temperature?
Iron.
Do you think iron would have a melting point?
Yeah.
Yeah, and if I, what would I get if I, if I heated iron to its melting point?
It would become a liquid.
And why would it do that?
Because it's got so hot that particles – they have spread out or something?
So what do you think would happen if I heated the iron liquid?
It would stay a liquid.
No matter how much I heated it?
It might, I don't know if it would become a vapour.
Can you get iron vapour?
No, I don't think so.
You don't think so?
No.
So it seems that Sophia had shifted from accepting that iron would partially evaporate (when learning about the particle model of the different states), to considering that iron (probably) can not become a vapour. The notion of iron as a gas is not something we can readily imagine, and apparently did not seem very feasible. In part this might be because we think of iron the material (a metal, which cannot exist in in the vapour phase) rather than as a substance that can take different material forms.
It seems Sophia's prior knowledge of iron the material was working against her learning about iron the substance, an examples of a grounded learning impediment where prior knowledge impedes new learning.
In Y7 Sophia had seemed to have a hybrid conception where having been taught a general model of the states of matter and changes of state, she accepted the counter-intuitive idea that iron could evaporate, but thought that (unlike in the case of water) it could not completely evaporate . This might have been a 'stepping stone' between not accepting iron could be in the gaseous state and fitting it within the general model that all substances will when progressively heated first melt and then evaporate (or boil) as long as they did not decompose first.
However, it seems that a year later Sophia was actually more resistant to the idea that iron could exist as vapour and so now she thought molten iron would remain liquid no matter how much it was heated. If anything, she had reverted to a more intuitive understanding. This is not that strange: it has been shown that apparent conceptual gains which are counter to strongly held intuitions that are brought about by teaching episodes that are not regularly reinforced can drop away as the time since teaching increases. Conceptual change does not always involve shifts towards the scientific accounts.
[Sophia was in lower secondary school when I talked to her about this: but I was also told by a much older student that the idea of iron turning into a gas sounds weird.]
Some molten iron would evaporate but not all of it, 'cause it's not like water and it's more heavy
Keith S. Taber
Sophia was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. In her first interview near the start of Y7, Sophia told me that she had learnt "about the particles…all the things that make – the actual thing, make them a solid, and make them a gas and make them a liquid" (i.e. the states of matter). All solids had particles, including (as examples) ice and an iron clamp stand. There would be the same particles in the ice as the iron.
"because they are a solid, but they can change , 'cause if erm they melted they would be a liquid so they would have different particles in…Well they are still the same particles but they are just changing the way they act".
Sophia's suggestion that particles in ice and the iron were the same types of particles as both were solid seems to be 'carving nature' at the wrong joints – that is in this model the particles in ice and (solid) iron would be of one type, whilst those of water and liquid iron would be of another type (that is she had an alternative ontology). Sophia quickly corrected this, so it is not clear if this reflected some intuitive idea or was just 'a slip of tongue'.
According to Sophia the ice could be melted "with something that's hot, like a candle" but for the iron "you need more heat, 'cause it's more, it's a lot more stronger…because it's got more particles pushed together".
Sophia's explanation suggested a causal path (right-hand side) quite different from a canonical causal path (left-hand side)
Strictly the difference is more about the strength of the interactions between particles, than how many were pushed together – although strong bonding forces would tend (all other factors being equal) to lead to particles being bound more tightly and being closer. We might argue here that Sophia seemed to confuse cause and effect – that a higher density of particles was an effect of strong bonding, which would also mean more energy was needed to overcome that bonding. (However, we should also be aware that when students use 'because' (which formally implies causality) they sometimes mean little more than 'is associated with'.)
If the water obtained from melting ice was heated more "it will evaporate into the sky". However, if the molten iron was heated Sophia thought that "some of it would evaporate but not all of it, 'cause it's not like water and it's more heavy". She thought only "a little" of the iron would evaporate to give iron vapour:
"No, I think that water all of it goes, but other material, other liquids some of it will go, not all of it". The rest "if it's cold enough, it will go back into a solid, but if not it really just stays as a liquid".
Sophia's idea that no matter how much liquid iron was heated it would not completely evaporate so some would remain liquid, which seemed to be linked in her mind to its density, seems to be evidence of an alternative conception. Students may not expect that something as (apparently) inherently solid as iron could evaporate (everyday experience may act as a grounded learning impediment), and so may not readily accept that the basic model of the states of matter and changes of state (i.e., a heated liquid will evaporate or boil) can apply to something like iron. Sophia seemed to have formed a hybrid conception – applying the taught model, but with a modification reflecting the counter-intuitive notion that iron could become a vapour.
Conceptual change can be a slow progress, although hybrid conceptions may be 'stepping stones' towards more scientific understandings. However, when I spoke to Sophia in Y8 she did not seem to have progressed further. [See 'Liquid iron stays a liquid when heated'.]
In a sponge, the particles are spread out more, so it can absorb more water
Keith S. Taber
Morag was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. In her first term of secondary school, she told me that he had learnt about particles. Morag had explained, and simulated through role play for me, the arrangements of particles in the different states of matter (See: So if someone was stood here, we'd be a solid.) She had also emphasised just how tiny the particles were, "little, little-little-little things", and so how many there were in a small object: "millions and millions and millions". This suggested she had accepted and understood the gist of the scientific model of submicroscopic particles.
Yet as the conversation proceeded, Morag suggested the macroscopic behaviour of sponge in absorbing water could be explained by the arrangement of particles leaving space for the water. This is perhaps a reasonably, indeed quite imaginative, suggestion at one level, except that the material of a sponge is basically solid (where, as Morag recognised, that the particles would be very close together). A sponge as whole is more like a foam, with a great volume of space between the solid structure (where air can be displaced by liquid) and an extensive surface area.
Do you think it is important to know that everything is made of particles?
No.
It's not important?
Well it could be important, but it's not that important. Well, you see, like that [indicating the voice recorder used to record the interview] has got like lots and lots of particles pushed together this [Morag gestures]…But a sponge, the particles are like, the particles are more kind of like, they're still the same, but it's just spread out more, so it can absorb more water.
Oh I see, so are you saying that the same particles are in my little recorder, as in the sponge.
Yeah, they're the same, but there's just more of them in one than there would be in the other.
The failure here is perhaps less Morag's inappropriate explanation, than the tendency to teach about the ideals of solids, liquids and gases, which strictly apply only to single substances, where most real materials students come across in everyday life are actually mixtures or composites where the labels 'solid', liquid' and 'gas' are – at best – approximations.
Teaching has to simplify complex scientific ideas to make them accessible to students of different ages, so often teaching models are used. But sometimes simplifications can cause misunderstandings, and so the development of alternative conceptions. If 'everything is a solid, liquid or gas' is used as a kind of teaching model, or even presented as a slogan or motto for students to echo back to the teacher, when lots of things students come across in everyday life (e.g., butter, clouds, the pet cat – a bathroom sponge) do not easily fit these categories, and this is likely to lead to students overgeneralising.
Although it is often not possible to assign a single simple cause to a student's flawed thinking, this could be considered likely to be an example of a pedagogic learning impediment (a type of grounded learning impediment) in chemistry: a case where an approach to teaching can lead students' thinking in unhelpful directions.
Mohammed was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. When Mohammed was near the end of his first term of upper secondary science (in Y10) he told me that in his chemistry lessons he had been studying atoms and ionic bonding. When I asked him what an atom was, he suggested that an atomis the smallest amount of matter you can get[*] as well as being "it's the building block of all matter".
The notion that atoms are the smallest components of matter has a strong historical pedigree – but the modern idea of the atom is unlike the solid and indivisible (= atomos: uncuttable) elementary particles imagined by some Greek philosophers. Modern atoms are considered complex structures, and may be dismantled.
It is not unusual for students to suggest that atom is the smallest thing that one can get, and then go on to describe atomic structure in terms of smaller components! The idea that the atom is the smallest thing possible (a kind of motto or slogan) is commonly adopted and then retained despite learning about subatomic particles.
Mohammed, however, justified his suggestion that an atom was "the smallest amount of matter you can get" by arguing that "matter is something that is built out of protons, neutrons and electrons". So Mohammed's notion of what counted as 'matter' (an ontological question) was at odds with the scientific account
Mohammed did not suggest that matter had to have overall neutrality, and his suggestion that matter is something that is built out of protons, neutrons and electrons had to be amended when he realised it would exclude hydrogen atoms as being matter:
So what if I had a balloon full of hydrogen gas, would that, would the hydrogen be matter?
Yeah.
So would that consist of protons, neutrons and electrons?
No it wouldn't. Sorry, can I take away the neutrons
Okay, so matter's what then? What's our new definition of matter?
Protons, electrons.
Mohammed presented his responses with confidence and without hesitation, which seemed to suggest he was offering well established ideas. However, he did not seem to have fully thought through these ideas, and perhaps was constructing a rationale in situ in the interview. The logical consequences of Mohammed's new definition was that atoms and ions would be considered matter but not nuclei or electrons.
What if I had sodium. Do you think that would be matter?… if I had a lump of sodium, would that be matter?
Yeah
And why is that matter?
Because it has, it has a full atom, it has protons, neutrons, electrons, even though you can have no neutrons.
Okay, but it has to have the protons and the electrons?
Yeah.
Now what if I just had one atom of sodium, would that still be matter?
Yeah.
…so let's say I've got my atom, with my eleven protons, and my probably twelve neutrons I think usually. And I've got eleven electrons round the outside. If I take take one of the electrons off this atom, it's not an atom any more is it?
It's an ion.
Now is it still matter?
Yeah.
Because I've still got protons and electrons. What if I took a second electron off, could I take a take second electron off?
Yeah.
What have I got then, then?
You've still got matter.
What if I took a third one off?
Well if you, if you just take all of them off, then you'd stop having matter.
So if I've got eleven electrons, can I take ten of them off?
Yeah.
And I'd still have matter?
Yeah.
The idea of what counts as matter here seems a rather idiosyncraticalternative conception (rather than being a common alternative conception that is widely shared). Science teachers would probably consider that all material (sic) particles are matter, and – perhaps – that this should be obvious to students. However, the submicroscopic realm is far from everyday experience so perhaps it is not surprising that students often form their own alternative conceptions.
Energy can be made, but only in biology: Amy had learnt that respiration was converting glucose and oxygen into energy – but had learnt in physics that energy cannot be made
Amy was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. Amy was a Y10 (14-15 year old) student who had separate lessons in biology, chemistry and physics. When I spoke to her (see here), she had told me that respiration was "converting glucose into energy and either carbon dioxide and lactic acid, or just carbon dioxide". When I spoke to her again, some weeks later, Amy repeated that respiration was "converting oxygen and glucose into energy and carbon dioxide…it produces energy" ; that trees "need to produce energy and when they photosynthesise they produce like energy"and that food is "broken down and converted into energy".
Later in the same interview I asked her about her physics lessons, where she had been told that "there's like different types of energy" and that it "cannot be made or destroyed, only converted". Amy did not seen to have recognised any conflict between how she understood the role of energy in biology, and what she was taught in physics.
However, on further questioning, she seemed able to recast her biology knowledge to fit what she had been taught in physics:
So in physics, they tell you (that) you cannot make or destroy energy.
Yeah.
And in biology, they tell you that you can make energy from oxygen and glucose?
(No response – Pause of c.2 seconds)
But only in biology, not in physics?
Oh, erm, I suppose the energy, erm well in respiration, erm the energy must be converted from stored energy in food.
So in an interview context, once the linkage was explicitly pointed out, Amy seemed to recognise that the principle learnt in physics should be applied in biology. However, she did not spontaneously make this link, without which the nature of respiration was misunderstood (in terms of energy being created from matter). This would appear to be an example of a fragmentation learning impediment, as although Amy had learnt about the conservation of energy she did not immediately how this related to what she had studied in biology, about respiration.
Amy was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. Amy was a Y10 (14-15 year old) student who had separate lessons in biology, chemistry and physics. When I spoke to her, she told me that in biology she was studying respiration which she suggested was "converting glucose and oxygen into energy…through anaerobic respiration and aerobic respiration". This involved "converting glucose into energy, glucose and oxygen into energy and either carbon dioxide and lactic acid, or just carbon dioxide. Something like that".
In physics lessons she had been studying the topic of electricity, and she recognised that energy was an idea which appeared in both topics:
The work in physics on electricity and the work in biology on respiration, is there any connection there?
Well, in respiration energy is produced, and in physics energy is stored in a battery or a power supply and that then travels round – the circuit.
When I spoke to her again, some weeks later, Amy repeated that respiration was "converting oxygen and glucose into energy and carbon dioxide". She told me that this was important "because it produces energy which like in humans your body needs, well in anything, your body needs and to grow and move and things like that". She also told me that trees were "living and they need to produce energy and when they photosynthesise they produce like energy anyway" but that she obtained energy "through food which is then broken down and converted into energy".
It is a basic principle in science, that energy cannot be created or destroyed. (Since Einstein, is has become clear that strictly matter can be considered as if a form of energy, and interconversion can take place, for example in nuclear processes, but this effect is negligible in normal chemical systems.) What Amy took away from her biology classes, though, was that energy could be produced in respiration and photosynthesis, and that indeed glucose and energy were converted into energy in respiration (i.e., an alternative conception). Amy did not seem to be applying the principle of energy conservation here – although it transpired (see here) that she had recently studied this in her physics lessons.
