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I have a love-hate relationship with Maslow's hierarchy of needs. You know, that psychological theory shaped like a pyramid.
It isn't that I think it is wrong, but more the suggestion that those at the top (self-actualization) could be construed as better than those at the bottom (physiological). The sheer placement suggests this … that it could be a character assessment. I really hate this about Maslow. Especially since being lower on the hierarchy is often a matter of external forces, and not character at all. So it is with mixed feelings that I suddenly deploy Maslow's hierarchy. A lot. I do so because it is well-understood by museum professionals, easy to remember, and it makes sense in what I have to share. And because every other graphic I came up with was either worse or misleading. Please, however, don't take it as judgmental of any part of the population. Instead, it is largely an assessment of capacity, and the many external factors affecting that. If I feel the need to be judgmental, I'll be crystal clear about it. That being said, what am I up to? Over the past few months, I've shared a great deal of research about museum-goers and the broader population. This work has been rooted in a broader population study I fielded in the fall of 2016, the 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers, and the work I did with AAM and their Museums and America 2017 sampling (forthcoming). My interpretation of all of this work was also influenced by research from the University of Notre Dame's Science of Generosity Initiative, which considered generosity and engagement through a lens of capacity, which I think is sensitive and highly appropriate (see my review of their book, American Generosity). In my work, I've explored different segments of the population, and I've looked at the population through the lens of intrinsic and extrinsic motivations of learning. The correlations I see among those motivations, museum-going, civic engagement, political engagement and persuasion, and life outcomes are, overall, pretty clear. Compelling. And while I am loathe to call my work definitive (far from it), there is enough here for me to lay out these broad conclusions and seek to understand the why behind them. Because the more I look, the more complexity I see. By educational attainment. By age. By race and ethnicity. And within every category as well. Inspired by the researchers at Notre Dame, I'm looking at all of this through a capacity lens. My hope is that it makes me more sensitive and realistic about my findings, and respectful of individuals, their mindsets, and their actions. To illustrate my broad findings, I've developed four new versions of Maslow's hierarchy, each through a different lens of consideration.
What I do like about this method is that, by placing my new hierarchies side-by-side, it is also possible to get a general read on the US population. Most people who are at the apex of one of my hierarchies are likely to be at the apex of the others … but not always. Consider them new rules-of-thumb, but with many exceptions and far more testing and research to verify. I'll be illustrating and discussing each new version over the next few weeks. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for these surveys have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation.
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Several months ago, the book American Generosity completely changed how I thought about how and why people engage with their world. In particular, they described people's generosity (which includes civic engagement) in terms of capacity. Everyone has different capacities to engage, and those capacities are rooted in socio-economic status, upbringing, childhood experiences, peer groups, and other factors. It wasn't judgmental. It could have been. They could have said "someone who doesn't even give a dollar to charity is a jerk." But they didn't automatically make that assumption. Instead, through the lens of capacity, they found much more nuance, and by not being judgmental, it was easier to see how deeper change can be affected. I'm going to try and do likewise. Because I think the capacity approach is crucial not only to generosity, but to civic engagement and to lifelong learning. That matters, and deeply, to museums. (You'll see me refer to American Generosity, based on work done by the Science of Generosity Initiative at the University of Notre Dame, a few times as I continue to share research. I strongly encourage you to read my review of it on The Curated Bookshelf. Then you can decide if you want to dig through the book itself.) Which brings me to the disengaged. In my broader population work last fall, I kept looking at this group of people. Because, first of all, they are not generally museum-goers. As a field, we talk constantly about broadening our audiences across different demographic and socio-economic dimensions. These are those individuals. But it isn't that it is a world of either people who visit museum or those who don't. It is much bigger than that. The disengaged are far less civically engaged. They feel less connected to their communities. Additionally, they have fewer concerns about, less interest in, and do far fewer things in their communities. And when it comes to politics, they are more likely to say they don't care about politics than to identify themselves anywhere on the political spectrum. In American Generosity, when describing individuals who fit into this category of disengagement, they wrote about them, well, generously. They described individuals focused on providing for themselves and their families at the basic level of food, shelter, clothing, medicine. They described individuals with their heads down, working multiple jobs to provide for their families, or to save for their children's educations. And they described people who came from backgrounds of want, who psychologically need to feel any future rainy days are taken care of. In those descriptions, I could see why museums don't fit in. Or even community engagement or political engagement. It is a very inward focus, and one most of us have. I know I am focused on providing for my family, making sure college educations will be paid for, and that a rainy day doesn't set us back. You probably are as well. But I have resources. Or, privilege. I'm well-educated, my spouse is well-educated, and that inward focus doesn't take 100% of my attention. I have capacity. Capacity to look up and see what is, first, going on in the world directly around me (my community), and then the world more broadly. Capacity to engage with both. And capacity to continue to educate myself about both, meaning time to read books, visit museums, and be generous to others in need. To my utmost capacity. You probably do too. We're peers. And we are in that biggest bubble in the illustration below from American Generosity (I don't like their term "professional;" I'd replace that with engagement with broader world). That makes us privileged, and it is incumbent on us to not only acknowledge that, but to be more understanding of those who have less capacity than we have.  Source: American Generosity, by Patricia Snell Herzog and Heather E. Price Because where this bubble chart is actually misleading is the size of the bubbles. In reality, it is more like a Maslow's hierarchy, and the individuals at the apex (which I would call "broader world - lifestyle generosity") are a small sliver of the population, while far more people fall in those other bubbles/lower in the hierarchy. How many? Good question. A lot. In my 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers, virtually all respondents are engaged with their communities to some degree. But most people who are focused 100% on self or familial (or friend) sufficiency are not museum-goers. Museum-goers, it turns out, are outliers. But a fair number of the disengaged do show up in my broader population work. And here it becomes really complicated. Bear with me, and let's walk through making an estimate about the population. The typical markers of disengagement are, in my work, feeling "not very" connected to a community and/or not caring about politics. Those folks, overwhelmingly, are disengaged individuals who do little in their community and are unlikely to visit museums (among other markers). They comprise 42% of my broader population sample, but I want to be conservative. Let's knock it down a bit. To 30% of my sample. But when I look at individuals who say they are only "somewhat" connected to their community, their response patterns to questions about their community and museum engagement are very similar to the disengaged. They comprise 30% of my sample, but not all are disengaged. I'll be conservative and say half are. So 30% + 15% = 45% And then there are the people who feel very connected to their communities by virtue of birth. Turns out, feeling connected in this way does not necessarily mean engagement. About half are "rooted in place" by choice, and are engaged and active citizens (and more likely to be museum-goers). But about half are "tied to place" by default, and their other responses indicate that they are, you got it, disengaged. 15% of my sample were very connected by birth; the half that are "tied to place" then comprise 7.5%. Let's be conservative again and say 5%. So 45% + 5% = 50% Scary number. But there's more. Survey bias. If you go back and read my introduction to the 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers, you'll read about the blind spot that every broader population sample has. A large segment of the population that surveys never reach in the first place. To be conservative, let's say that 30% of the population never see these surveys at all (and never seeing surveys in the first place is a sure-fire sign of disengagement). So, my 50% above is of that 70% of the population represented in broader population surveys. 50% of that 70% is 35%. Which means 35% sampled + 30% never sampled = 65% Two-thirds of the population isn't that engaged with their communities or the broader world. Seem high? Maybe. But remember, disengagement doesn't mean they never vote (many do, especially in presidential elections). Yet this explains the low levels of voting in local elections, why it is always the same people that volunteer and run local organizations, and why so few Americans have visited a museum in the past year. This doesn't mean that 65% of Americans are never generous, never paying attention to their communities, or that they don't care, however. My research indicates significantly lower levels of engagement, but not necessarily zero engagement. Additionally, my handful of surveys, like every other survey in the world, are imperfect. My surveys are not capturing neighborhood dynamics. Or engagement with informal neighborhood networks. Or desires for more involvement. They also don't capture capacity to engage that would increase dramatically if economic necessities were taken care of. That's a lot more nuance than a few surveys can tell us about. Yet you have to start somewhere. What about museums? Does this mean that the broadest audience we can hope for is 35% of the population? Because if that's true, we've pretty much tapped that out in terms of casual + regular visitation. Actually, I think to the contrary. It means there is a huge potential for delivering impact in truly meaningful ways. And it all has to do with motivation. The vast majority of that two-thirds of the disengaged population (as well as a fair number of the engaged), are extrinsically-motivated learners. Yet we know from my work about the value of museums that museums can make a difference in lives, and deliver meaningful impact. Museums can do so in ways that meet the explicit needs of the extrinsically motivated. We're not going to convince them by talking about the joy of discovery or unleashing creativity, however. We have to be more pragmatic about it and deliver content that meets their needs, where they are, with outcomes that matter to them. Their kids will do better in school. This will help them land a better job. And so on. In no way does that diminish our missions because this pragmatic approach does not preclude the joy of discovery or the unleashing of creativity. We can do both. In fact, I'm not sure anyone else can do both as effectively. And, finally, a word about jerks. While I appreciate the nuance and sensitivity around thinking about engagement through a capacity lens, let's be honest. There are some people who are just jerks that don't care about others. They can have billions of dollars, power, and influence. And they can be stuck in the self or familial sufficiency bubbles. Not because they lack capacity but because they are jerks. I'm making the assumption that these individuals are outliers, and are not at all typical. The exceptions that prove the rule. I hope you do likewise. But that doesn't mean it isn't prudent to be aware of them and, when necessary, resist them. Or, even better, reach them in meaningful, even transformative ways. I'm optimistic. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for these surveys have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation. Mobility. When we think of regular museum-goers, we often (correctly) think about them in terms of being well-educated professionals. But we don't generally think about the mobility that comes with that education. But educated people tend to have more options in life, and that includes where they live. This contributes to brain-drain from some communities, where college-bound youth typically don't return after graduation, while other communities teem with young, well-educated adults (Silicon Valley, Seattle, Brooklyn). Thus, it is more likely that our local visitors are not born-and-bred locals. In my 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers, only one in five respondents said they felt "very" connected to their community because they had lived there all their lives. (And I suspect most of them are "rooted in place" by choice, unlike in broader population samples.) But a third of museum-goers feel deeply connected through their own efforts. They worked hard to put down deep roots in the community they settled in as an adult. Which brings us to life stage, mobility, and community engagement. Mobility tends to happen at specific times in people's lives, and that matters for community engagement over a lifetime. (So does arts consumption and museum-going, as I mentioned before, and will cover in more detail soon.) So let's first look at the patterns in the data about regular museum-goers.  Young Adults Under 40, no children
These young adults are highly mobile and, as relatively new residents, haven't really put down roots. Among museum-goers, they are the least connected to their communities, with only a third saying they felt "very" connected. They are also twice as likely as other museum-goers to not feel connected at all. Why? Well, they are far more likely to be single, living in a community they moved in to. The only community networks they have are likely to be through their work (which may or may not be conducive to developing community connections) and any friends they have made. Breaking into a community is hard. Yet that doesn't mean they don't care about their communities. Indeed, they are the least likely segment to say that they think their community is doing "fine," and they are the most likely to have concerns about their community. Additionally, in my broader population work, young adults were the most likely to value local museums and libraries (as well as other amenities such as a diverse population, access to parks and nature, and interesting restaurants and food markets). My question for museums, then, is how can help young adults build broader and deeper community networks in the communities they live? This has to go beyond evening events (though those help) to additional initiatives designed to help these concerned young adults connect and engage with their communities. Bonus: museums become even more relevant in the process. Parents with Young Children Museum-going parents with young children, we now know, tend to be extrinsically motivated. That extends to their community engagement as well. While two-fifths feel "very" connected to their communities, it varies widely based on motivation: intrinsically-motivated parents are about a third more likely to feel deeply connected than extrinsically-motivated parents (57% do). And since the vast majority of museum-going parents of young children are extrinsically motivated, it is not a surprise that this segment of respondents had the fewest concerns about their community. Perhaps an indication that they are not engaged enough with their community to know what to be concerned about. Why? I suspect it has to do with depth of engagement. Both sets of parents likely found parenthood was a catalyst for developing a more extensive community network. Suddenly, via children, the local network expands … quickly. But intrinsically-motivated parents were likely more engaged in their communities before children, because it suited their needs and interests and because engagement in arts and museums specifically is a predictor of prosociality and cooperation, as other studies have found as well (even when controlling for education and income). Their quality of engagement is thus deeper, and likely more diverse, than parents whose engagement is primarily via their children. This has some interesting outcomes when we consider museum type. Parents of young children who visit history or art museums regularly (and are more intrinsically motivated) are more deeply connected to their communities and have more concerns about their communities than parents of young children who visit children's museums or science centers regularly (and are more extrinsically motivated). Which suggests that children's museums and science centers have an opportunity here to consider ways that they can help their captive audience of extrinsically-motivated parents connect more deeply, and thus deliver greater community impact through an even more civically-engaged population. How? A start might be by considering ways parents can get to know their neighbors better. After all, not knowing neighbors was their top concern, with 38% flagging it. Parents of Tweens and Teens As we saw in my recent releases on The Parent Bubble, by middle school we have lost most (but not all) extrinsically-motivated parents and their children as regular museum-goers. Museum-going parents of tweens and teens are more likely to be intrinsically-motivated. And since they are older, and intrinsically-motivated, they have had both more time and reason to develop deeper community connections: over half feel "deeply" connected. Broader population samples, however, hint at something else going on. When it comes to interest in and activity levels in a community, there seems to be a pulling-back among this segment. That is, as children become more independent, community engagement with the parents contracts slightly. We see this manifest itself clearly with The Parent Bubble, as museum-going drops significantly. But it comes out in other ways too as children no longer drive parental engagement as much. Dropping off children at events requires far less involvement than staying and supervising (and chatting with others). I'll be looking for better ways to track this "midlife malaise" as research progresses, but retaining these parents as museum-goers may be a start. Older Adults, no minor children Among museum-goers, older adults have the deepest connection to their communities: 61% feel deeply connected. It makes sense. They are intrinsically-motivated, and they have likely spent longer time in their communities, having settled in and deepened roots (2.5x more likely to say they have put down deep roots than young adults). Despite that, young adults without children, as I mentioned earlier, have more concerns about their community than even this segment. True, older adults are more concerned about an aging population, but they are less concerned about knowing neighbors, or the needs of at-risk children, and so on. Broader population samples reflect some, but not all, of these patterns. Connection to community stabilizes in middle age, and stays relatively steady through the older years. But older adults were less interested in their community, and its amenities, than younger adults. More broadly, older adults vote more, but engage less with their communities than younger adults. Why? My initial findings indicate it has to do with educational attainment. Community engagement and education go hand-in-hand. Since older adults have lower levels of educational attainment, they have overall lower levels of community engagement. And that also means lower levels of museum-going. Older adult museum-goers are, it turns out, outliers of engagement. But that indicates a huge growth opportunity for museums. We have a rapidly aging population. We'll be beset with ever-increasing healthcare needs as they age. Healthy aging is going to be critically important to help seniors in their old age so that they live the best lives they can for as long as possible, benefiting themselves, their families, and healthcare costs. Museums are fantastic at providing both social and cognitive benefits, which all support overall well-being (see my research reviews of The Social Wellbeing of New York City's Neighborhoods and Creative Health: The Arts for Health and Wellbeing for evidence of impact). Our communities, and our healthcare system, need places like museums. By engaging more seniors with museums, and encouraging their greater community engagement, we truly serve our communities well. But what about socio-economic status? To reinforce, most of what I shared in this essay is about well-educated museum-goers. Yes, I brought in work from broader population sampling to support my conclusions, but the broader work is more complicated, largely due to socio-economic status, lower educational attainment, and structural racism. I'll begin to unpack that next. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for these surveys have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation.  I am struggling with how I release my research findings on community engagement. It would be easy for readers to come away from them thinking that all individuals who are intrinsically motivated to learn are also the most engaged in their communities and the most altruistic. When, actually, an intrinsically motivated person can be a total jerk. And it would also be easy to come away from this series thinking that extrinsically-motivated individuals are "not as good as" intrinsically-motivated ones because they are less likely to be engaged in their communities and are less likely to be altruistic. But that hides the fact that there are some highly engaged, highly altruistic individuals who just happen to be more extrinsically motivated than intrinsically motivated. After all, motivations are not a zero-sum game, and individual can have high degrees of both … and I'm looking at which one they have more of. But there are many reasons why people are, or are not, highly engaged in their communities, or with museums. So I'll share what the data shows me, from my 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers as well as broader population sampling, in as clinical way as possible. I also beg of you to please remember that these are generalizations based on the overall patterns in the data, and should not be taken as character assessments of any individual person. Every individual person is different, and has different capacities for engagement and learning that may be rooted in socioeconomic status, upbringing, and other influences. And yes, a few people are just jerks. Now, that being said, let's dive in. As a field, we are pretty obsessed about community engagement. At least when it comes to our museums. But let's be honest. Generally, we talk about community engagement as more people involved with our museums. That's too narrow (and self-serving). I want to change our perspective on community engagement, and turn it around to think about what it is, as individuals, we really want for our communities. And that is healthy communities. Communities that are productive, have a high quality of life, and that provide a good education for children. Communities that support overall wellness from birth to death, thus contributing to our broader society as well. That means safety, good schools, solid infrastructure, quality affordable housing, and healthcare. But it also means libraries, parks, and places to come together. Vibrant downtowns. Active community centers. The things that make our communities places we care about, and that make us, individually, better able to contribute to our communities as well. Engagement in our communities means being a full participant in those things. But my research indicates that there are wide disparities in individual levels of community engagement. There are segments of the population that have extremely low levels of connection to their community. And there are others that have much higher levels of connection (with a whole of people falling somewhere in between). To a considerable extent, this correlates with socioeconomic status, but not entirely. I also see shifting patterns of community engagement by life stage. Museum-going is another indicator of community engagement. That is, the more someone feels connected to their community, and the more they engage with their community, the more likely they are to be a museum-goer. (A recent UK study supports this; see my review on The Curated Bookshelf.) In all of these cases, however, there's underlying nuance and variations that are important to consider. Additionally, I am mindful that the questions I asked in my surveys are about traditional, structural things (like libraries and infrastructure) on a community level. That means I likely didn't capture more personal, neighborhood-based connections and engagement … and that may matter. Over the next few essays, I'll explore community engagement by life stage and more broadly (which includes socioeconomic status), and then put all of it back into the context of museums and our work, so that we can, indeed, do more for our communities. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for these surveys have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation. As I shared earlier, The Parent Bubble is comprised primarily of extrinsically-motivated parents. That is, their extrinsic motivations for learning overall outweigh their intrinsic motivations. Intrinsically-motivated parents are the opposite. They may have very strong extrinsic motivations for learning (likely), but that is outweighed by their intrinsic motivations. Because of this, they approach learning, and museums, differently. Unlike extrinsically-motivated parents, they probably kept going to museums when they were in middle and high school themselves, and as young adults without children. Now that they have children, they keep going to museums. Including art and history museums. Perhaps primarily art and history museums. Special interest museums too. They are more omnivorous in their museum-going habits than extrinsically-motivated parents. That is, like extrinsically-motivated parents, having children changed their museum-going habits. But instead of going from casual or non-visitation to regular visitation, intrinsically-motivated parents simply added on children's museums, zoos, and science centers to their usual repertoire of regular museum visits. (Natural history museums seem to do a relatively good job of engaging both families and adults without children, but I don't have enough data right now to make more definitive statements about them; next year, perhaps.) So when intrinsically-motivated parents take their kids to a museum, they appear to be just as likely to visit an art or history museum because they like them, and they hope their children will too. Thus, parents of young children who visit art and history museums are about as likely to cite their own reasons for visiting (learning opportunities, curiosity, interest) as they are to cite the needs of their children (learning opportunities, fun, etc.). That mindset makes all the difference, as the parents are more personally interested in the content, and thus engaged with the visit. This has a few outcomes:
But there is something important for us to remember. Intrinsic or extrinsic motivations around learning are not a fixed state. As you can see in the graphic below (which I've shared before), most people have different levels of both intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. While I'm making generalizations based on overall motivation, it can change depending on the museum, the exhibit, or the mood.  That is, present the right content in the right way, and an extrinsically-motivated parent may become interested and curious for their own sake. After all, there are a fair number of individuals that are strongly intrinsically motivated, but overall have an even stronger extrinsic motivation And even the most intrinsically-motivated parent isn't intrinsically motivated all the time. My daughter has a specific history museum she loves to visit, and after multiple visits, I can tell you that I am no longer intrinsically motivated to visit. But I suppose you can say my extrinsic motivation to cultivate my daughter's intrinsic motivation has me there. Regularly. (Too regularly?) Which is all to say that it's the product. If we want to pop that Parent Bubble in a way that retains families as kids grow older, we have to do better with the product. Children's museums and science centers have to do a better job of engaging adult interests, going beyond the traveling exhibitions that do draw more adult audiences. Engage that captive audience. Perhaps learn more from what art and history museums do, borrow more objects that tell science stories as well, and build meaning by exploring our humanity in more thoughtful ways. And art and history museums. Just because more meaning-making happens in these museums does not let them off the hook. If they want to be perceived as age appropriate for younger children, they actually have to be more age appropriate. That doesn't meaning changing everything (and likely turning off adult audiences), but it could mean turning to local children's museum and science center peers to develop better ways to engage younger visitors. Because I believe that if museums drew on each other's strengths, we can build audiences for all museums more effectively and more meaningfully, thus delivering more impact, and being more valued in our communities. Speaking of which. Intrinsically-motivated parents were significantly more engaged in their local communities, exhibiting deeper perceived connections and more concerns, than extrinsically-motivated parents. Now this is a chicken-and-egg scenario, but perhaps the greater exposure to others that intrinsically-motivated individuals have contributes to healthier communities. And museums may play a role in developing that understanding and interest at a young age (see my series on the value of museums for a bit more). Which leads to where my research is taking me next: museums and community. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for this survey have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation.
I love extrinsically-motivated parents at museums. They value learning, and see museums as places that help their children. It's a great reason for these families to be at museums. And, on top of that, they likely comprise about 90% of all families that go to museums. But for most of them, we are no longer as vital, relevant, and necessary by the time their children are in middle school. This is our failure, not theirs. So what do we know about extrinsically-motivated parents? A couple of things:
So what, specifically, do extrinsically-motivated parents of young children want from museums? And what value do they place on museums in their life? Fortunately, my 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers sheds light on all of this. Easily Articulated Motivations This one is easy. Learning experiences for their children is cited by the overwhelming majority of parents visiting museums. This is true of both extrinsically and intrinsically-motivated parents (intrinsically-motivated parents have extrinsic motivations as well; one doesn't preclude the other). But what else? Having fun and spending time with family come up strongly, too. The fun part, I will admit, part of me dismisses. Sure, I'm glad children (including my own) have fun at museums, but "fun" isn't a distinctive trait to museums, and I have never seen more than a handful of parents talk about "fun" in a way that makes it so. Fun happens lots of places. Spending time with family would, theoretically, fall into the same category as "fun." After all, it can happen anywhere. But I've changed my mind on family time, as you'll see momentarily. Value of Museums Here things become much more interesting. The very last question of my survey of museum-goers asked respondents to take a moment to consider the value of museums in their life. The majority of extrinsically-motivated parents talked about education. That museums are places of learning and knowledge, as this representative comment shares:
Additionally, a significant number of parents spoke about how museums help them, essentially, raise their children. Museums are good places to visit, and provide valuable experiences for children, as this representative comment shared:
Yet extrinsically-motivated parents were much less likely to talk about broader, or deeper, impacts than other (more intrinsically-motivated) museum-goers, including intrinsically-motivated parents. Gaining an awareness or understanding of others, developing empathy, and connecting to others (whether in a community or globally) were simply less important to extrinsically-motivated parents. Similarly, extrinsically-motivated parents were less likely to say museums were stimulating, contributed to their quality of life, had inspired them, made them more well-rounded, or been places of respite or contemplation. Interestingly, though, the idea of sparking curiosity did come up at a similar rate to other museum-goers. But largely what I saw was museums spoken of in more clinical terms than more intrinsically-motivated museum-goers (including intrinsically-motivated parents) did. The following two comments are representative: Typical Extrinsically-Motivated Parent Response
Typical Intrinsically-Motivated Parent Response
Extrinsically-motivated parents feel less strongly, and have fewer emotional connections to, museums. Instead, their value statement focused on how their children benefited from the learning opportunities. Intrinsically-motivated parents were more likely to think about their impact more contextually and emotively … and they were more likely to discuss how museums had affected themselves. Now, I think it is great that extrinsically-motivated parents value learning for their children so much. I'm glad they feel that way. We can work with that. But the lower levels of connection, emotion, and articulation of value for the deeper impact that intrinsically-motivated museum-goers experience tells me that we have far more work to do to engage this audience meaningfully. This goes back to the actual product we are offering, and how visitors respond to it both intellectually and emotionally. (Perhaps that extrinsically-motivated parents are primarily visiting children's museums, science centers, and zoos and aquaria may contribute; my research on meaningful museum experiences make clear that history and art museums develop deeper connections and more meaningful experiences with their visitors, both adults and children.) There was one type of response that did bring in more emotive words from extrinsically-motivated parents, however: family time. Museums as fantastic places for family time. Why? Distraction-free family time is hard to find nowadays. Note that phrase I included: distraction free. Families need these types of places, and some have realized that museums fit that need beautifully. Home is filled with the distractions of chores, homework, and screens. Taking children to enrichment activities is good for children, but not for family time, as they tend to be drop-off activities. But museums. By visiting museums, they are making a deliberate choice to be with their children in a place with limited distractions. That's gold … as these two representative comments illustrate:
But here's the problem. We lose these families by middle school as well. So what do we do with all of this information? First, an anecdote. Several months ago, I visited a science center with my children. On the exterior of the building, the science center had massive banners about upcoming programs. And my poor kids. They had to stand on the sidewalk while their demented mother (me) verbally railed at how these were "the worst museum banners." (They were patient; they've seen this behavior from me before at museums.) So what was wrong with the banners? They used words like "inspire" and "wonder." Worst. Banners. Ever. (OK, maybe not the absolute worst, but not that effective either.) Now, I happen to love inspiration and wonder. So does that 5% or parents that are intrinsically motivated to learn. But guess what? We've cornered that market. And intrinsically-motivated parents are not paying attention to the banners because they are probably on the email list already and signed their kids up weeks ago. So the banners weren't helping the science center out there. And all those extrinsically-motivated parents who were visiting (and are less likely to be on the email list)? It's not that they don't care about their children feeling inspired. It's that those are not outcomes they place the highest value on. Those banners probably washed right over them because inspiring their children doesn't fulfill their needs. Instead, if the science center had said "your kids will get ahead in science" they probably would have had far better results. So the science center wasted the opportunity. They likely spent thousands of dollars and considerable effort on banners that didn't do a bit of good. Now, those banners were focused on drop-off programs for children. When it comes to more general marketing, focusing on fun learning outcomes for children will likely still be more effective than talking about inspiration. If I were a marketing director, I'd be thinking long and hard about my word choice based on this research. But distraction-free family time may well be an effective marketing tool as well. Especially as children get older and seek more independence from parents. Could adults help parents and tweens and teens build positive memories together? Can we then retain our audiences longer? Finally, there is our product. What is the actual experience we are offering? Here, an exploration of intrinsically-motivated parents will be useful. And that is what's next. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for this survey have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation.  Well, this is a painful finding, and I suspect that most museum-goers don't think about museums in this context at all. If we are going to serve our communities well, we not only need to be more obvious about it, but also do it in ways that community benefits are clearer.
I'll explain more when I begin a short series on community engagement in mid-October. Stay tuned. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for this survey have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation. What I have to say may sound harsh.
Museums are failing families. Or, more specifically, museums are failing extrinsically-motivated families. Museums of all types. In my last research release, I shared the broad numbers behind what I call The Parent Bubble. In short, by middle school we only retain a third of museum-going families as regular museum-goers. But now, let's get down to the numbers by museum type. Children's Museums First, no one expects children's museums to retain family audiences into middle and high school. But that doesn't mean children's museums are off the hook. Children's museums attract broader audiences of extrinsically-motivated parents, but those parents are the second crabbiest museum visitor in my research. They enjoy seeing their kids learn through play, but aside from that, they are, well, bored. If they equate museum visits as being for their kids, and with boredom, that isn't conducive to interesting them in visiting a variety of museums as well. (I realize children's museums work hard to create experiences to engage parents and children together, but my research indicates not as much of that is engaging parents as meaningfully as we would like.) Which brings me to point number two for children's museums: their role in encouraging parents to visit a variety of museums. I've heard children's museum professionals tell me that they see part of their work as being a "practice" museum for families, so that families then go off and visit a variety of museums throughout childhood. In my research, there is very little evidence that this happens (and far more evidence that it doesn't happen for most families). Yes, children's museums are a fantastic pipeline for science centers, and to a more limited degree for natural history museums, but not art or history museums. If they were, we likely wouldn't see the significant losses in family audiences over time. Finally, since the long-term losses come almost entirely from extrinsically-motivated parents, it also tells me that children's museums are not cultivating an intrinsic desire to learn among families (this specific research doesn't inform whether they are among children specifically). Science Centers This one I looked at very closely. In theory, science centers are for all ages. In practice, families with children 10 and younger. How do I know? If science centers were serving families with children of all ages, then 40% of all families should be families with tweens and teens. But when I looked at regular visitors to science centers from my 2017 Annual Survey of Museum-Goers, they comprised only 21%. When it comes to losses, which is a different way of looking at it, that means 58% of families with children 10 and younger that visit science centers regularly have dropped into casual or non-visitation by middle and high school. And the crabbiest museum-goer of all? The parent of a tween or teen at a science center. Oh, goodness, they are not thrilled to be there. A sense that they are done. We could argue that losses are to be expected as children grow up and become involved in other activities. But this isn't necessarily true, as my data also shares that the losses come almost exclusively from extrinsically-motivated parents; intrinsically-motivated parents stick with museums (including art and history museums). And if science centers were truly for all ages, wouldn't they at least retain the parents? Doesn't happen. Art and History Museums The story changes dramatically for art and history museums. In contrast to science centers, these museums slightly grow their audiences from families with young children to families with tweens and teens … though it isn't clear if parents of tweens and teens are visiting with or without their children (probably a mixture). Why the growth? Parents of young children that visit art and history museums regularly are four times more likely to say they visit for their own learning opportunities than their peers that visit science centers regularly. Four times. (This response didn't preclude also selecting a response about children's learning opportunities.) Other responses in the survey make it clear that art and history museums do an excellent job attracting intrinsically-motivated parents. Parents who visit with their children, not just for their children. That's the problem. As I shared last fall, intrinsically-motivated parents are only a small sliver of parents. I just don't see a lot of that (much) broader audience of extrinsically-motivated parents at art and history museums. Why? A few reasons come to mind:
Now, it doesn't matter that we, and even most intrinsically-motivated parents, think #1 and #3 are dead wrong. Or that data supports the long-term benefits of art, history, and culture in promoting understanding, cultural competency, critical thinking, and so on. Doesn't matter. Because most extrinsically-motivated parents don’t necessarily see it that way. And they don't visit. So art and history museums have not only done a poor job of broadening their audience by attracting parents in The Parent Bubble, they have also done a poor job providing evidence that what they fundamentally do matters to children, families, and even communities or society. Now that I have taken you to the depths of despair, it's time to pull you back out. We have a sense of the challenges, now let's take some time to learn more about these extrinsically-motivated parents that make up The Parent Bubble, so we can start to do something about it. That's next. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for this survey have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation.  So what's going on here? First, in this question, the respondent is asked to consider the museum that requested they take the survey. That is, my partner museums that sent out the survey to their various contact lists. Thus, if someone is responding to a survey request from the Small Town Children's Museum, then they are considering if the Small Town Children's Museum contributes to that town's quality of life. Same thing about the Big City Art Museum, and so on. Respondents thinking of their local children's museums and science centers are significantly less likely to feel their museum contributes to their community's quality of life than respondents from art or history museums. Why? I think it all goes back to attitudes around visiting. As I shared recently about parents with young children, the majority of those museum-goers are visiting for extrinsic reasons, and thus have the lowest visitor satisfaction rates. That mindset, visiting for their children's benefit, a task they must complete as a good parent, likely narrows their perception of the museum … and makes them less likely to view it as positively contributing to quality of life. In contrast, art and history museum visitors are much more intrinsically motivated, and thus more likely to see those museums more positively. This includes parents of young children responding to these types of museums. Does this mean children's museums and science centers actually contribute less to quality of life than art and history museums? I doubt it. I suspect their contributions are actually about the same (though of different natures). Instead, I think the attitudes of the respondents around visiting color their perceptions, yielding these different results. A note about fielding research. I hold dear the idea that research for the field, about the field, should be shared with the field. But that only works when museums work together to make it possible. Since individual museums are needed to field this work, the survey also benefits participating museums on an individual level by providing benchmark data on visitation rates, motivations, attitudes and preferences, and demographic questions … all of which can then be tracked over time in the future. Participating museums are also allowed to add 1 - 2 custom questions specific to their needs. Which means if you value this research, want more of it in the coming years, and want to track your own museum's progress over time, please support this work by enrolling your museum in the 2018 Annual Survey of Museum Goers. The fee for 2018 is only $1,000 per museum. The questions for this survey have been inspired by ongoing conversations within the museum field (who does/does not go to museums, why they do/do not visit, and what that means for communities) and ongoing research in the fields of education and psychology around lifelong learning and intrinsic motivation. |
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