The knowledge warriors: busy professionals—call them "knowledge warriors"—have no time for courses, no need for grades. They learn in new ways, through new technologies, on the go. Here's how

T+D, Feb, 2004 by Jonathon Levy

Researchers have found that we spend a high percentage of our time--some estimate it at 28 percent--just seeking the information we need to do our jobs.

What workers need, says Levy, isn't just a way to access data, but a way to filter it so the information they receive is exactly what they require, when they need it.

This new system of learning starts with the premise that everyone has different prior knowledge, different learning needs, and a different context for knowledge. At its core is a taxonomy that creates solutions on the fly for every user. No courses, no classes, no separate learning experience; learning becomes an inseparable part of working, of doing one's job. Instead of requiring knowledge workers to come to classrooms (physical or virtual), it brings the knowledge to them, empowering them.

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In 2001, Harvard Business School and Stanford University created a working model of a futuristic advanced learning system that enabled them to research the desirability of several visionary concepts with chief learning officers and top HR executives. The idea was that if a picture is worth 1000 words, then a working model is worth 100,000. The model helped everyone to start from an identical vision and underlying assumptions, and to provide meaningful feedback about the future of corporate and professional learning. The picture that emerged was one of a sustainable model of knowledge transfer with new metrics, performance-based ROI, and a capacity to embed not just knowledge, but also corporate vision and strategy in a next-generation system. This article is breed on thin model.

The doctor's usually busy, and this day was no exception. Too many patients, too little time. This morning, he'd "sit in" on a Grand Round, a lecture from an esteemed colleague in his field, via the Internet. He'd attend virtually while having breakfast at home. At least, that was the plan. The state requires all physicians to continually update their knowledge and skills by taking hundreds of hours of education each year. The state doesn't say how the doctors are supposed to find the time to do that while tending to patients and the myriad administrative tasks required of the 21st-century medical practitioner.

The toast popped, the doctor poured his coffee, all the while listening to his overnight voicemail messages, his cell phone held to his ear with his shoulder to keep both hands free for the coffee and toast. The PC had already started up and was requesting his password, blinking patiently on the counter. He snapped the TV to "Headline News" as he sat down at the counter. Before he could swallow his first sip of coffee, his email message headers appeared on the screen, auto-sorted by importance. He'd get to those later. But before he could click through to the Grand Round, a red flashing box above the messages caught his eye: ALERT!! Patient update (new data).

He clicked on the box, and the screen immediately opened to a summary of a new study just accepted for publication in a refereed journal in Europe and entered into the medical update database overnight. Two lines said that patients taking a certain drug who also had diabetes were found to be at risk for previously unforeseen complications. Just under the summary was an option to drill down for more details and a header that read: "You have been pushed this update because one or more of your patients may be at risk." Under that was a list of his current patients who were taking the drug and who also had diabetes. Under that was a list of action options.

The doctor hit the Consult button, and a list of names of specialists in the selected field appeared. He chose a name he knew, a person who would help him decide whether to keep the patients on that medication. A list of mutually available times for a meeting appeared, and he selected one. He then clicked on Patient Services and wrote, "Schedule each patient for a reevaluation." When he hit Return, an email message was auto-generated to Patient Services along with the information he'd just seen and the list of patients attached. Patient Services would contact the patients to pass on the new information and ask them to contact the services. Those patients with email would automatically receive the updated information.

Then the screen disappeared, and the Continuing Medical Education request screen replaced it. The doctor drilled down through the taxonomy to his subspecialty and typed in the name of a new procedure he'd heard of recently, and a list of learning opportunities appeared. He found one that was 10 minutes long and sat back to finish his toast and coffee as the video, text slides, and still images filled the screen. He answered a few interactive questions at the end, and the system automatically logged his participation in the session, which would count towards his CME licensure requirements.

Several minutes later, the doctor was pulling out of his driveway on the way to the hospital. Over breakfast, he had prevented three of his patients from suffering a previously unreported complication, and he'd learned about a new procedure that might save hundreds more. "A good start to the day," he thought as he pulled onto the Interstate.