Interviewed by Alison
Beard
Photography: Jonathan
Sprague
Salman Khan was working
as a hedge fund analyst when he started using online tools to tutor his cousins
in math. Nine years later, his nonprofit organization, Khan Academy, draws on
the same approach to offer more than 5,000 free, web-based video lessons to
millions of students across the globe, disrupting not only schools but also the
education industry built around them. Interviewed by Alison Beard
HBR: What are the
key concepts students should understand in order to be successful in today’s
workplace?
Khan: The one meta-level thing is to take agency
over your own learning. In the traditional academic model, you’re passive. You
sit in a chair, and the teacher tries to project knowledge at you; some of it
sticks, some of it doesn’t. That’s not an effective way to learn. Worse, it
creates a mind-set of “you need to teach me,” so when you’re on your own, you
think, “I can’t learn.” Anyone in any industry will tell you there’s new stuff
to learn every week these days. So you have to say, “What information and
people do I have at my disposal? What questions do I need to ask? How do I
gauge whether I’ve really understood it?” Khan Academy is designed to give
students that agency. If you want to get more tangible, I would say learn how
to program a computer, more about the law, and definitely statistics.
In your book, you talk
about curiosity being stamped out of kids. How do you bring it back?
Curiosity is a hard
thing to squash, but the traditional model of education manages pretty well:
Listen to lectures, take notes, feed back what you learned, and then forget it
all. You’re not allowed to go beyond the curriculum. Khan Academy is all about
giving more breathing room. You want to go deep? Go deep. I had this to some
degree at the public school I went to in Louisiana, where there were gifted
programs. Every day, starting in second grade, they took me out of class for an
hour, and I would go to another room, with a mixed age group. The first time I
went, I thought it was the biggest racket. I walked up to Miss Rouselle’s desk,
and she asked, “What do you like to do?” I was like, I’m seven years
old—shouldn’t you be telling me what to do? But I said, “I like to draw. I like
puzzles.” She said, “OK, have you used oil paints? Have you done Mind Benders?”
Soon I looked forward to that hour more than I did to spending the night at my
friend’s house. And I learned more that applies to what I do today than in the
five other hours of the day combined.
That’s what we need to
create space for. Historically, it was hard to do in a scalable way. How do you
personalize education for 30 kids without breaking the bank? But technology can
deliver information at a student’s pace, give practice problems and feedback,
and arm teachers with data, so that when students go into a classroom, it’s
much more like what I experienced in that gifted program.
How much of what you’ve
learned about effective education applies to the business world?
The idea that you do
K–12, four years of college, maybe some grad school, and then stop learning is
a myth. The book applies to lifelong learning: Go at your own pace, master
content before moving on, and do it without disrupting your current work and
productivity. A lot of corporations, when they do training, mimic the
classroom. They create corporate universities; people have to take time off and
listen to lectures. But the information and credentials you get coming out of
those classes aren’t as useful as other things. At Khan Academy, when we hire,
it’s nice if you have a high GPA and an academically rigorous major. But what
we really care about is what you’ve made. For engineers, show us software
you’ve designed. We also want evidence of how you work with other people, the
leadership you exhibit, and what your peers think of you.
Your findings on the
limits of human concentration seem relevant too.
We think that because
this generation has Facebook, Twitter, and mobile phones, they don’t have
attention spans. But it’s clear from the studies that we never really had the
attention spans the classroom-based lecture model expects of students. Especially
with dense subject matter, humans can pay attention for 10 to 15 minutes before
they zone out. You zone back in for eight or nine minutes, then you zone out
again. The zoning in gets shorter; the zoning out gets longer. By the end of
the hour you might have picked up 30% of the material—or you might be lost
altogether. That has consequences in a work setting, too. If people are
meeting, they don’t need a lecture; if you don’t need them to interact,
information should just be in a video or a memo. At Khan Academy, one side
effect of that approach is we’ve created a library of videos that provide
background on our thinking, so that we can tell a new employee, “Go watch.” We
make videos for our board, too, so that everyone can see that historical
narrative; then the board meetings are mainly interactive Q&A.
Should every company use
videos instead of memos?
There’s something you
get only from a human voice—little intuitions or parentheticals that people
express verbally but for some reason not in a white paper or a memo. It’s
incredibly valuable.
You’ve been called the
world’s teacher. How much of that came to you intuitively, and how much did you
learn along the way?
If you’re being talked
down to in a classroom, or if a lecture is over your head, you feel belittled.
As my wife will tell you, I’m hypersensitive to that. When someone uses an even
slightly exasperated tone, my reaction is, “Hey, don’t talk to me that way!” So
when I give a talk, 10% or 15% of my brain is thinking, “Sal, are you sounding
arrogant? Are you talking down to people, or above them?”
Also, I’ve always been
interested in really understanding things. When you have a strong foundation,
everything falls into place a lot easier later on. I don’t say, “Memorize this
formula.” I say, “This is how my brain thinks about it.” I try to make my
thought process very transparent; if I’m doing calculus or quantitative
finance, I’m not afraid to remind myself of some basic arithmetic.
Your first
trial-and-error attempts to teach your cousins remind me of the iterative “lean
start-up” model.
You have to do some
planning, but you get real information only when you put something out there,
observe people using it, get data, and quickly iterate to throw something else
out. One thing in my mind is to not lose that.
Now that you have more
people, and solid funding, why have you stuck with the same model—your voice
against a simple digital blackboard?
When I started making
videos, in 2006, I did 10 or 20 as a proof of concept, and, with my MBA hat on,
I thought, “I’ll get a bunch of other people to make content, because that’s
the only way to address all the topics I want to.” But it was hard to find
people to participate, and I realized I could scale up on my own far more than
I had assumed. Within two or three months I had done 80 or 90 algebra videos.
Then I moved on to geometry and calculus and physics. But I’m clearly not going
to be able to cover everything, and people might appreciate a different style.
We have a few other folks already doing art history, medicine, and
project-based learning videos, and we’ve hired a team to build the tools and
platform to allow more people to create content. You’re going to see content in
many languages. You’re going to see us going much deeper into interactive
experiences.
When your lessons are
criticized, how do you respond?
You have to figure out
what is meaningful and constructive and what isn’t. When someone sends us an
e-mail or writes a blog post about something they think is incorrect or
unhelpful, and they’re right, we annotate or redo the video. That’s one of the
values of this form over a traditional textbook, where you get little or no
feedback. When we put content out, 10,000 people look at it within a week. It’s
a very fast editorial cycle. We don’t have to wait until the next textbook. We
can fix it overnight.
Khan Academy is clearly
disrupting education. Will you kill off some established players?
Whether or not Khan
Academy exists, the world in which a business model is based on charging people
for access to information—and not even new information, but 300-year-old
science or math—is going away. I think publishers recognize that and see that
there are opportunities for them. They already have huge distribution and
traction in schools globally. If they turned those schools into registered
internet users and customized material for them, the market would value that.
It’s not 100% clear how to monetize it, especially since we’re out here saying
that access to learning is a human right. But the writing’s on the wall.
At the same time, there
are start-ups trying to imitate your model on a for-profit basis.
The more dollars thrown
at the problem, the better. If a for-profit player gives away part of an
education in order to attract customers, that’s a win for everyone.
Why did you set Khan
Academy up as a nonprofit?
In the for-profit realm,
a home run is to scale big, get 100 million users, and go public or get
acquired. That would have been good for me individually and for our investors.
But it felt a little wrong, because I wanted our content to be accessible to
all people, for a long time into the future. Beyond your generation, do you
have confidence that a for-profit will stay true to its mission? The
institutions that have had global reach over multiple generations have been
not-for-profits. That’s a home run in that sector. And maybe Khan Academy can
be one of those. In terms of its advantages, we get goodwill. There are 51
people in the organization, plus thousands of volunteers, and we’re attracting
some of the best in Silicon Valley: McKinsey folks, people from Google and
Facebook, one of the leading quant fund guys, the world’s top Java script
programmer. These incredible people come for the mission, not even realizing
that we actually pay pretty well. So we’re getting a caliber I don’t think
anyone else can.
What kind of boss are
you?
It’s an exciting and
hard challenge: How do you have a flat and nimble structure? How can you be
approachable but also have authority? How do you make sure people’s voices are
heard while correcting something you feel is going in the wrong direction?
Every manager has to plot his own trajectory and be as open to feedback as
possible.
Eventually you’re going
to run into another classic management problem: You’re the face of the
organization. Can the Academy exist without you?
Two years ago that would
have been impossible. Even now a lot of the press narrative is about me
tutoring my cousins and making videos. But that’s starting to change, because
people see our interactive platform, which was clearly worked on by people
other than me. As we bring other content creators on board, my hope is that I
can continue to be a valuable evangelist for what we’re doing. But if, God
forbid, I get hit by a bus, Khan Academy should survive. We have a deep bench.
I’m the least impressive person in the organization.
A lot of us dream of
leaving our jobs to do something good for the world. How did you decide to take
the plunge?
I really enjoyed my
hedge fund job; it was far more thought provoking and intellectual than people
might assume. But I also found a lot of satisfaction working with my cousins,
writing the software, and making the videos. So in the back of my mind, I
thought I would become a portfolio manager, have my own fund, and maybe 15 or
20 years in the future, on my own terms, fund a school. As anyone in
investments will tell you, you have bad days, and you think maybe you should do
your hobby full-time. But then you remember you don’t own a house, you have a
baby on the way, and you haven’t paid off your or your wife’s student loans, so
you stop dreaming. I’d been part of the dot-com bubble, and I found it so
exhausting emotionally that I told myself entrepreneurship was not for me. So
when I started Khan Academy, I said, “This is a hobby. This is a passion. This
is fun.” And I protected it that way as it developed. I thank my old boss,
because he thought it was valuable for us to have our own lives, and that
created a space for Khan Academy to blossom. When I took the plunge, it was
significantly de-risked. By 2009, 100,000 people were using the videos, we’d
been on CNN and in USA Today, and I was starting to talk to
philanthropists. So I sat down with my wife and said, “Let’s give it a year. If
I can’t get it off the ground, I can go back to my old job.” Nine months in,
things started to happen.
You’re backed by the
likes of Bill Gates and Carlos Slim. What have you learned from them?
All of them, even though
they sit on top of empires, go deep and try to understand things themselves.
They’re very hands-on. And they’re incredibly curious. The first time I met
Carlos Slim, we sat on a beach for four hours and talked about what
civilizations existed during previous interglacial periods. These people are
big thinkers. Seeing that has given me the confidence to let my epic juices
flow, so to speak—to indulge my science fiction, delusional dreams. You have
to, for some of your stuff to become a reality.
Your wife is a doctor,
and you have two young children. How do you balance work and family?
I set hard lines.
Weekends are for my family. I do not touch the computer unless it is an
absolute emergency. When I come back on Monday, I’m refreshed and productive.
The same goes for evenings. I’ve been up on stage at speaking events and said,
“I have to go give my kids a bath now,” and everyone is shocked. But if I can’t
have dinner with my kids, give them a bath, and read them a book before bed,
something is wrong in my life.
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