In the second year of my PhD in the era of big hair, shoulder pads, and Reaganomics, my supervisor fell ill, and I was asked to take over a semester of practical ecology classes he was due to teach.
These were unfortunate circumstances, but a fantastic opportunity for me. I got to try my hand at teaching early in the piece.
Instead of following the usual script of structured experiments and predetermined outcomes typical of science laboratories, I did something that seemed obvious to me then but now feels radical.
I let the students lead their discovery.
In this issue, I'll share how this accidental experiment in mindful scepticism transformed my students' learning and my entire understanding of education.
More importantly, I'll show you how these principles can help you navigate our modern world of information overload, misleading headlines, and complex global challenges.
Why Scepticism Matters in Education
I didn’t know it at the time, but my PhD supervisor had undiagnosed bipolar disorder and went through periods of extraordinary productivity and energy that, as a naive youngster, I just thought that was what academics did.
Then he would crash and spend weeks and sometimes longer, unable to do anything productive.
One of his crashes coincided with an ecology class he was supposed to teach. His colleague was given the lectures, but I was asked to run the practical component of the course, which were ten weekly sessions of three hours.
I should say that the University of East Anglia was a modern institution at the time, famed for student-centered learning and I had just completed their undergraduate program in Environmental Science.
The university motto is ‘do different’, so I thought, why not?
Armed with hundreds of woodlice, curiosity, and some basic equipment, I asked the students in the class to embark on a journey. What ecology could we learn if the class were an open-ended enquiry? Unstructured learning by following the scientific method that could teach them far more than ecology.
It worked.
So much so that I published the whole process in the Journal of Biological Education.
It was my first peer-reviewed scientific paper.
Dangerfield, J. M., Boar, R. R., & Montgomery, P. (1987). Teaching ecology to undergraduates: a practical course using projects. Journal of Biological Education, 21(4), 251-258.
At the end of the introduction to the paper, I wrote this paragraph
We particularly hoped that students would also evaluate and criticise published experimental studies and appreciate the challenges of applying experimental results to ecological theory. Perhaps by doing this they would also gain some confidence in their own abilities.
At the time, I didn’t realise I was also putting mindful scepticism into an educational setting.
But as we will see, I did.
Building Better Thinkers Through Scepticism
Education research tells us that scepticism encourages students to ask probing questions, seek evidence, and challenge assumptions, fostering a dynamic and intellectually stimulating learner environment.
Only I was a true greenhorn at the teaching malarky. My only option was to jump in with both feet.
So I fronted the first class with a single overhead to describe the plan, no handouts and half a dozen large plastic tubs behind me.
But before I could set the students off on their quest for scepticism, they needed context.
I started to tell them about woodlice.

It was the animal of choice for my PhD research into population ecology and the evolution of life histories, so it made good sense to me.
I introduced the general ecology of the animals, particularly their identification and behavioural characteristics—think shrimps that live on land—along with some techniques used to study these unique crustaceans that should live in the oceans but don’t.
In the tubs were laboratory cultures of three species of the genus Porcellio.
I explained to the students that Porcellio laevis was large, lively, and showed a remarkably high birth rate; Porcellio dilatatus was large but slow-moving and showed a preference for deeper layers of the culture medium; and Porcellio scaber was smaller, intermediate in activity, but still capable of rapid reproduction and was more widely recorded in the British Isles than the other two species.
I showed the students these distribution maps for these highly aggregated and locally abundant woodlouse species and information about where the records were located—59% of P. dilatatus and 71% of P. laevis records were from sites associated with human settlement (gardens, buildings, waste ground, etc.), compared with 40% of records for P. scaber.
Then I asked the students to construct hypotheses to explain these observed patterns of behaviour and distribution. The constraint was that then then had to design a laboratory experiment to test their hypothesis.
They divided themselves into groups of up to three individuals to do this and were reminded that time was constrained as was the equipment available. There were plenty of tubs, culture medium and access to electronic balances and incubators.
By the end of the first practical session, each group had produced at least one hypothesis, designed an experiment, and assembled or requested the necessary equipment.
After the second session experiments were underway on habitat preference, vertical distribution, survivorship, feeding and growth, and palatability. It was impressive.
Some of the hypotheses being tested were
Porcellio scaber is more of a generalist feeder and is thus able to exploit a wider range of food types than Porcellio laevis.
The vertical distribution of Porcellio scaber in a culture medium is not affected by the presence of the other woodlouse species.
Porcellio scaber can survive sudden changes in temperature more successfully than Porcellio laevis.
I loved all this open-endedness. How much of my own biases and enthusiasm leaked into the classwork is lost to history but there was some serious ecological understand on the go.
I didn’t know that I was assuming that scepticism contributes to developing analytical and problem-solving skills or that students trained to approach topics with a sceptical mindset are better equipped to dissect complex issues, identify underlying assumptions, and synthesise information effectively.
I also didn't know that education researchers had already established that thinking abilities extend beyond the classroom, preparing students for the challenges they will face in their future academic pursuits and professional careers.
In essence, scepticism in the class is not about fostering a cynical attitude but cultivating a thoughtful, questioning mindset.
It encourages a continuous pursuit of knowledge, a commitment to evidence-based reasoning, and the ability to navigate a world where information is abundant, varied, and sometimes contradictory.
I had made sure that the basics of the scientific method were followed and over the next five weeks the experiments ran with many of the students putting in extra time to check on their replicates. Most students seemed absorbed in the process.
A sample of the findings for the hypotheses
Porecellio scaber was found nearest the surface in all the treatments and Porecellio dilatatus in the deeper parts of the cultures.
Porecellio scaber ate significantly more of all food types offered than Porecellio laevis.
Both species survived in conditions of high humidity and constant temperature. Porecellio laevis was significantly less tolerant of sudden decreases in temperature.
All the results were interesting and were summarised in the published paper.

Growing Confident Critical Thinkers
All this happened over 35 years ago. I didn’t realise I was empowering students back then, but I knew what happened in the classes was good.
I continued with a student focus throughout my academic career. I was all about student-centred and open-ended learning, not because I knew that was what I was doing. It just seemed obvious to me.
To learn about science, you must learn to be a sceptic.
The education researchers carefully dissected what I was taking for granted. They established that empowering students to think critically and sceptically involves providing essential tools to enhance their analytical skills. First and foremost, fostering information literacy is paramount, equipping students to discern credible sources, recognise bias, and navigate the vast sea of information available.
Secondly, creating an environment that encourages open dialogue and respectful debate enables students to articulate and challenge ideas, fostering a culture of questioning.
Lastly, integrating real-world problem-solving activities into the curriculum allows students to apply critical thinking skills in practical scenarios, bridging the gap between theory and application.
Together, information literacy, open dialogue, and hands-on problem-solving form a powerful triad of tools that cultivate critical thinking in students and instil a lifelong habit of approaching information with a sceptical and discerning mindset.
Who knew?
Building a Culture of Thoughtful Debate
I started the woodlouse practical by asking students to construct hypotheses to explain the observed patterns of behaviour and distribution in three woodlouse species. I had told them one was common and two were uncommon.
This was a closed question; I had already framed it.
As I gained confidence as a lecturer, my questions to students became closer to the open-ended questions that stimulate critical thinking, prompt students to reflect on their assumptions, and foster a more profound understanding of the subject matter.
When I had become a lecturer with a little more confidence, I would take students to a patch of woodland and ask this question…
How much biodiversity is here?
It freaked them out when I told them they had ten weeks of practical classes to develop a defendable answer.
I published that one too.
Dangerfield, J. M., & Pik, A. J. (1999). The educational value of an all taxa biodiversity inventory. Journal of Biological Education, 33(2), 76-83.
Looking back at those woodlouse classes and the open-ended craziness I tried later, I realize the real magic happened in the many small group discussions.
Four or five students huddled around a table, diving deep into ecology research papers. When students did the reading (and yes, that was sometimes a big assumption), these discussions crackled with energy.
One person would spot something interesting in the methods, another would question the conclusions, and suddenly they'd have the kind of critical dialogue that makes science come alive.
And there's never just one paper to read, one perspective to consider.
Today, with tools like Google Scholar and the AI review tools at our fingertips, we're swimming in a sea of research papers, philosophical debates, and complex analyses. It's like having the world's biggest library in your pocket.
I used to tell my students to read everything they could get their hands on, and now that advice is more relevant than ever.
When I asked the students about what they learned from the woodlouse practicals, most students claimed that they felt more confident in their abilities and felt that the responsibility they took for their work was rewarding.
I was delighted with this response and looked for it whenever students evaluated my courses.

The Real Challenges of Teaching Scepticism
I would like to think that all education is founded on scepticism.
I would like to believe that critical thinking skills make it clear that questioning, analysing, and evaluating information are fundamental aspects of academic development.
I would like to see all teachers at all levels encourage students to ask questions, explore topics independently, and develop their conclusions.
I hope all students are exposed to real-world examples and case studies that require them to apply critical thinking and scepticism. I also hope they engage in respectful discussions that express and challenge ideas, promoting a culture of scepticism without violating policy.
I trust that we teach students to stand on the shoulders of giants. That they are exposed to history where scepticism played a crucial role in challenging prevailing beliefs—the earth used to be the flat centre of the universe until the sceptics taught us otherwise.
I trust that open-ended learning is in every curriculum and classroom, especially through research projects requiring students to independently investigate topics, analyse information, and draw evidence-based conclusions.
Tragically, I am not convinced much of this happens.
In the Woodlouse practical course over 35 years ago, I believe the students learned how to derive facts through experimentation. They had the opportunity to develop ideas and learn from their mistakes, both consistent with the original aim of complementing a series of lectures that did not usually involve any discussion with the students.
In the publication, I concluded…
Clearly there are benefits to both structured and project-orientated practical teaching and exposure to both methods may be the most effective in the teaching of ecology. The students appeared to appreciate the opportunity.
I certainly did.
Mindful Momentum
The Assumption Audit
Choose one belief you hold strongly about how something works. It could be about nature, society, or even your daily routine. Write it down.
Now list every assumption that underlies that belief. For each assumption, ask "How do I know this is true?" and "What evidence would change my mind?" Keep this audit visible and add to it whenever you notice another assumption. This combines sceptical questioning with mindful awareness of our own thought processes.
If you prefer something more like the woodlouse story try this one…
The Daily Species Challenge
Choose one common organism in your local environment. It could be a bird at your feeder, a tree on your street, or even a household spider.
For one week, spend 5 minutes each day observing it and writing down one question that starts with "I wonder why..." Don't look up the answers immediately. Let your curiosity build.
At the end of the week, research your questions systematically, evaluating the evidence for each answer you find. This mirrors the woodlice practical by starting with observation, building questions, and then seeking evidence.
Let us know how you are going with mindful momentum.
Key Points
My early teaching experience with woodlice became an accidental experiment in mindful skepticism, demonstrating how open-ended learning and student-led discovery can foster critical thinking skills more effectively than traditional structured experiments. This practical approach empowered students to develop their own hypotheses, design experiments, and learn from both successes and failures.
While educational researchers have long studied the benefits of teaching critical thinking and skepticism, this personal account shows how intuitive teaching methods naturally aligned with research findings about the importance of questioning, evidence evaluation, and independent inquiry in science education. The success of this approach was validated through peer-reviewed publication and student feedback.
My experience highlights a crucial balance in education between structured learning and open exploration. By providing basic context and tools while allowing students to lead their own discovery process, educators can create an environment that nurtures both critical thinking and confidence. The woodlice practical classes demonstrated that students appreciate and benefit from taking responsibility for their own learning journey.
Looking back through the lens of modern information challenges, this teaching experience offers valuable insights for developing mindful skepticism today. While the specific context was university-level ecology education, the core principles of questioning assumptions, evaluating evidence, and maintaining intellectual curiosity apply broadly to navigating our current information landscape. These skills may be more crucial now than ever, though they are not consistently taught.
Curiosity Corner
This issue of the newsletter is all about…
When an inexperienced teacher let his ecology students break all the rules with woodlice and curiosity, he accidentally discovered powerful lessons about learning that still resonate in today's age of information overload.
What would be a better question on this topic? Here are some suggestions.
Instead of asking 'What should I teach?' I learned to ask 'How do students actually learn best?’ This reframing moves from content delivery to learning process, challenging traditional teaching assumptions and opening up possibilities for discovery-based education.
Rather than 'What distribution patterns do these woodlice show?' we asked 'Why might these creatures choose to live where they do?' This shift transforms a simple observation task into an investigation of ecological relationships, causation, and evidence-based reasoning.
Instead of 'What's the right answer?' students began asking 'How could we test this idea?' This reframing moves from passive acceptance to active investigation, embodying the essence of scientific thinking and mindful scepticism.
Rather than 'How do I cover all the course material?' I learned to ask 'What skills do students need to become independent thinkers?' This question elevates the discussion from content coverage to capability building, focusing on lasting learning outcomes.
"Instead of asking 'What does the textbook say?' students asked, 'How do we know this is true?' This transformation represents the heart of mindful scepticism - moving from accepting authority to evaluating evidence.
In the next issue
When Exact Numbers Lie
In our next issue, we'll tackle a puzzling paradox of why we keep finding new species even as biodiversity disappears.
Through the lens of global tree diversity, I'll show you how seemingly precise numbers can obscure deeper truths about nature.
Discover why mindful sceptics learn to love uncertainty and how this counterintuitive approach leads to better environmental understanding.
"Instead of following the usual script of structured experiments and predetermined outcomes typical of science laboratories, I did something that seemed obvious to me then but now feels radical. I let the students lead their discovery."
Bravo, John! You are enacting the wisdom of pedagogists like Geoff Mulgan who prescribes the "studio school" as a way of increasing student engagement and learning. You might enjoy his talk on that subject (click the link at his name in this essay of mine):
https://bairdbrightman.substack.com/p/people-learn-best-when-they-work