We have become obsessed with formal learning in the workplace. In our
zeal to learn, we have transferred the formal model of learning into the
collective mind of our corporations. Even e-learning is simply
less-expensive formal learning at a distance.
Our obsession began when we decided we were in the knowledge economy. We
concluded that human assets are the most important element of our
collective P&L. The only way to attract, improve, and retain those
assets is to offer learning. Learning makes brains physically bigger.
Learning also makes them smarter. Smarter translates into faster, newer,
better, and more competitive. And the competitive advantage of smarter
in a Darwinian business ecosystem eventually leads to more profits. If
people in your company learn what your company needs to know and do, you
can get smarter. You can have a higher corporate IQ than some other
company, and you can win. The only problem is that we have very little
idea how real learning occurs. We spend billions of dollars on formal
training and education, and then we wonder, where is the payoff?
Sometimes people do learn. They change and improve. Performance
temporarily increases. Mistakes on the production line start to
decrease. Safety records seem to get better. But most of the time, it’s
hard to see why anyone has bothered. Organizations provide the formal
learning, but little changes.
Here’s a true story that may shed some light on the matter. I was
working as a mailroom clerk (“mailboy” in those days) in a giant Boston
insurance company, paying my way through college. The company had no
formal mailboy-training program. I just walked around for an unspecified
number of days with a senior mailboy, watching and learning, asking and
listening. I was a young apprentice on the move. Then, one day, when I
was deemed fit and ready, I walked around on my own. And if I had a
question, I went over by the water cooler (yes, they did have them back
then), where the mailroom supervisor waited. After a few moments of idle
chitchat, I asked, trying not to look too dumb, “So, how do you refill
that postage meter stamp thing?” From that moment on, I learned
everything I really needed to learn by the water cooler.
Real learning, the kind of “aha!” moment that signals the brain has
connected the dots, is an absolutely wondrous and amazing mystery. It
involves memory, synapses, endorphins, and encoding, and, more often
than not, those accidental and serendipitous moments we call informal
learning. Most real learning—the kind that sticks to the walls of the
brain—is informal. That’s true even in a formal setting such as a
school. Informal learning is what goes on around our formal learning
process. It’s a hitchhiker sitting unobtrusively in the back seat of the
school bus—a place where pedagogy has yet to go. It’s the opposite of
the shining and hallowed place where teachers, instructors, professors,
and even graduate assistants proudly pontificate, as the Wizard of Oz
did before his hot-air balloon took off for a star called Kansas.
Let’s step back here and define “formal” and “informal” learning. Formal
learning happens when knowledge is captured and shared by people other
than the original expert or owner of that knowledge. The knowledge can
be captured in any format—written, video, audio—as long as it can be
accessed anytime and anywhere, independent from the person who
originally had it. Examples of such formal knowledge transfer include
live virtual-classroom courses with prepared slides, self-paced
off-the-shelf instructional CBT courses, books, video- and audiotapes,
team rooms in which documents are stored, digital libraries and
repositories, a real-time seminar on the Web (or webinar), electronic
performance-support tools, programs accessed during a job or task,
instructor- led courses that follow an outline, repeatable lecture labs,
a recorded Web-based meeting, or even e-mails that can be forwarded.
Formal learning often requires prerequisites, pre- and post-assessments,
tests, and grades, and it sometimes results in certification. It is
often presented by an instructor, and attendance and outcomes are
tracked.
Consider the limits of formal learning in the workplace. Because of time
and cost pressures, people who teach in the corporate environment often
do not have the same relationship with learners as can be found in some
of the more traditional school environments. In those increasingly rare
places, teachers and learners can work together over time, and the
formal and informal learning begin to blend. Once you are done with a
course in a company, it’s quick back to work, with the assumption that
your attendance has translated into knowledge. I recently chose a course
only because the marketing brochure promised that learners would have
unlimited and extended access to the instructor after the course to make
sure we were applying what we learned. Such access was a first for me.
Informal learning is what happens when knowledge has not been
externalized or captured and exists only inside someone’s head. To get
at the knowledge, you must locate and talk to that person. Examples of
such informal knowledge transfer include instant messaging, a
spontaneous meeting on the Internet, a phone call to someone who has
information you need, a live one-time-only sales meeting introducing a
new product, a chat-room in real time, a chance meeting by the water
cooler, a scheduled Web-based meeting with a real-time agenda, a tech
walking you through a repair process, or a meeting with your assigned
mentor or manager.
Virtually all real learning for performance is informal, and the people
from whom we learn informally are usually present in real time. We all
need that kind of access to an expert who can answer our questions and
with whom we can play with the learning, practice, make mistakes, and
practice some more. It can take place over the telephone or through the
Internet, as well as in person. But if informal access is not built into
the formal learning process, the chances of getting past knowing to
doing will be difficult at best.
Here’s one of many examples. In the early days of the personal computer,
we would all go to the same course to “learn” how to use an application
or operating system, and then we would go back to our desks, usually
with a thick how-to manual. The problem was that we never used those
manuals. Instead, we found the local “power user,” the person who for
one reason or another had spent more time playing with the computer, or
had taken more courses, or had learned directly from an expert, and we
began to pepper that person with phone calls and show up frequently at
his or her doorway or cube entrance. Two things quickly became apparent.
First, the power user was teaching what people had not managed to learn
in the class, and second, the power user had learned how to use the PC
in a very different way: what he or she showed you was often not the way
it had been taught. But it was the time I spent huddled in front of the
power user’s screen when I really learned the word processing and
spreadsheet and graphics programs I needed in my work. My learning may
have started in the course, but it ended in the huddle.
A study of time-to-performance done by Sally Anne Moore at Digital
Equipment Corporation in the early 1990s, and repeated by universities,
other corporations, and even the Department of Health and Human
Services, graphically shows this disparity between formal and informal
learning.

To illustrate the difference between formal and informal learning, let’s
consider the game of golf. If you want to learn to play golf, you can go
to a seminar, read a book about the history and etiquette of golf, watch
a videotape of great golfing moments, and then you can say you know
something about golf. But have you really learned to play golf? You can
then buy and enjoy a great e-golf game, find a golf pro, take lessons,
take a simulated swing on a simulated golf course, practice putting,
slice and dice balls at the driving range all weekend. After all this,
you think you can do it, but have you really learned to play golf?
From your first tee shot on your first hole, it takes hours of adopting
and adapting, alone and in a foursome, in all sorts of weather and
conditions. You discover what you know and can do, swing all the clubs,
ask all sorts of questions, fail and succeed, practice and practice some
more, before you have really learned to play golf. Real learning, then,
is the state of being able to adopt and adapt what you know and can
do—what you have acquired through formal learning—under a varying set of
informal circumstances. It accounts for about 75 percent of the learning
curve. In the mailroom, it was 100 percent of my learning curve.
I call this the 75/25 Rule of Learning. We get only about 25 percent or
less of what we use in our jobs through formal learning. Yet the
majority of companies are currently involved only with the formal side
of the continuum. Most of today’s investments in corporate education are
on the formal side. The net result is that we spend the most money on
the smallest part of the learning equation.
The other 75 percent of learning happens as we creatively adopt and
adapt to ever changing circumstances. It happens when we ask someone a
question at the water cooler—and get an answer. So the informal piece of
the equation is not only larger, it’s crucial to learning how to do
anything. Do we take it into account when we think about teaching
someone how to do something? Do we consider it in the workplace when we
collectively spend billions of dollars on training, learning, and
e-learning? Of the hundreds of corporate executives and managers I’ve
spoken with and interviewed, the answer today is invariably no.
In the workplace, where everything is focused on performance and
performance is everything, we need to add the informal piece into the
equation for any real learning to take place. We need to factor those
accidental, informal intersections of learning and performance into the
process. That’s the whole point of what you are reading, what your eyes
are taking into your brain, and hopefully what you are beginning to see
and learn. We need to understand that the informal side of the equation
requires real people in real time: mentors, coaches, masters, guides,
power users, subject-matter experts, communities of practice. We need to
foster informal moments of knowledge transfer.
How? There’s an old workplace joke that goes, “See that person? She’s
the smartest person in the company. And do you know who is the next
smartest? The person sitting next to her.” If we want to become smarter
companies, we need to encourage informal learning. We need to create
what I have been calling collaborative learning environments, where we
seamlessly knit together formal and informal learning. We need to use
technology to facilitate the informal as well as the formal transfer of
knowledge by including expert locators, e-mail connections with
instructors, real-time Internet meeting places, virtual-learning support
groups, instant messaging, expert networks, mentor and coaching
networks, personal e-learning portals, moderated chats, and more. We
need to start taking advantage of the tools and technology that exist
today and those coming online tomorrow. We need to create the 100
percent learning solution, in which the proscribed formal learning
events and the serendipitous learning moments are given equal value.
Formal learning is only the beginning of the challenge, not the end. I
think I’ll go back to the water cooler and see what else I can learn.