We’re just over midway through the hazy days of summer vacation, and children without access to high quality enrichment opportunities are already slipping behind their wealthier peers. As noted in a recent New York Times article, in addition to the decrease in math proficiency that most kids experience over the break, low-income children also lose more than two months of reading skills—skills they don’t regain during the school year. This compounds the already deep educational disparities found among students of different socioeconomic groups, which can be observed as early as 18 months of age.

Most efforts to address these gaps focus on improving our K-12 educational systems. Yet, children spend an average of 80 percent of their waking time outside of a classroom—a simple, yet startling statistic that highlights the need to explore a broader range of solutions.

As we learned at a recent Brookings event, Urban Thinkscape, an ongoing project from developmental psychologists Kathy Hirsh-Pasek and Roberta Michnick Golinkoff, might be one of those solutions. Drawing on findings from their research on guided play—particularly from interventions like the Ultimate Block Party and The Supermarket Study—the project embeds playful learning activities, such as games and puzzles, into public places where children routinely spend time during non-school hours. Designed by architect Itai Palti, each installation is created with specific learning goals in mind and reflects best practices in psychological research.

With a pilot led by researcher Brenna Hassinger-Das in progress in the West Philadelphia Promise Zone, the project is already revealing important lessons—not only for educators, but for urban planners and policymakers as well.

The first involves the (often under-appreciated) need to work with local residents. Through meetings and focus groups with leaders of community organizations, neighbors, and Promise Zone stakeholders, the team gained a clearer understanding of resident needs, spurred interest in the project, identified potential sites, and improved designs. Residents were brought into the process early, empowered to offer suggestions at several stages, and will continue to be engaged as the project is implemented and assessed.

The upshot? When community members are meaningfully involved—and local wisdom valued—from the onset, residents become invested in the project and feel a sense of ownership of it over the long haul. This not only improves the likelihood that the project will succeed, but also helps foster neighborhood trust and cohesion, and builds social capital that can be applied to future efforts.

A second lesson is the extent to which a full scaling of the project could help transform distressed neighborhoods through what Project for Public Spaces often refers to as “lighter, quicker, cheaper” interventions.

Many high poverty urban areas are challenged with large numbers of vacant or underutilized properties, as well as dull spaces (like bus stops) that serve only utilitarian functions. The Urban Thinkscape project aims to take such spaces and remake them into opportunities for interaction and learning—and by doing so create tangible improvements to the neighborhood’s physical fabric. While the West Philadelphia pilot has substantial long-term planning behind it, ideally the “playful” installments will be refined over time so they can be more easily and cheaply implemented in other urban neighborhoods.

Finally, the Urban Thinkscape interventions have the potential to advance academic and spatial skills in children, reducing the gap in school readiness, and ultimately fostering better educational and life outcomes.

Many families in high poverty neighborhoods can’t afford extracurricular enrichment activities, particularly during the summer. And even where they might be offered—via community centers, or through other nonprofit initiatives focused on the arts, STEM activities, or sports—children may only experience them at certain times of the week. Urban Thinkscape aims to supplement these activities by embedding learning opportunities into the everyday landscape through interventions that develop numeracy, literacy, and other skills necessary to succeed in school and eventually the workforce. From an urban planning and policy perspective, this individual development is critical to helping build family wealth and vibrant, healthy city neighborhoods.

Though still nascent in its development, the Urban Thinkscape model appears to be a fun, innovative way to give children—and their caregivers—learning opportunities outside the classroom, while creating new gathering spaces and improved public places. In this way, the project is creatively employing the city itself as an agent of change. If the full vision of this work is realized, perhaps we can finally put the brakes on the “summer-slide” such that all kids can start the school year at the top of their game.

The debate surrounding net energy metering (NEM) and the appropriate way to reform this policy is under scrutiny in many U.S. states. This is highly warranted since NEM policies do indeed need reforming because NEM often results in subsidies to private (rooftop) solar owners and leasing companies. These subsidies are then “paid for” by non-NEM customers (customers without private rooftop solar installations). The fundamental source of the NEM subsidy is the failure of NEM customers (customers with private rooftop solar installations) to pay fully for the grid services that they use 24/7. These subsidies are well-documented and underpin much of the regulatory reform efforts underway across the United States.[1]

In a recent Brookings paper, “Rooftop solar: Net metering is a net benefit,” Mark Muro and Devashree Saha contend that net metering is a net benefit for non-NEM customers.[2] I fundamentally disagree with their findings, and argue that NEM is not a net benefit; it is, in fact, a tariff that much of the time results in a subsidy to NEM customers and a cost shift onto non-NEM customers. As Executive Director of the Institute for Electric Innovation, a non-lobbying organization focused on trends in the electric power industry, I have followed this debate and written about it for several years.

Much of the talk about NEM focuses too often on the “value” of the energy that is sold back to the grid by a NEM customer. In reality, the amount of energy sold back to the grid is relatively small. The real issue is the failure of NEM customers to pay fully for the grid services that they use while connected to the grid 24/7, as shown in Figure 1.[3] Customers need to constantly use the grid to balance supply and demand throughout the day, and the cost of these grid services can be sizeable. In fact, for a typical residential customer in the United States with an average electricity bill of $110 per month, the actual cost of grid services can range from $45 to $70 per month–however, the customer doesn’t see that charge.[4] That means, in the extreme, if a customer’s energy use “nets” to zero in a given month because the customer’s private solar system produced exactly what the customer consumed, that customer would pay $0 even though that customer is connected to the local electric company’s distribution grid and is utilizing grid services on a continuous around-the-clock basis.[5]

Although exactly netting to zero energy in a month is highly unlikely, this example demonstrates the point that the customer would pay nothing, despite using grid services at a cost ranging from $45 to $70 per month. Over the course of one year, this customer could receive a subsidy resulting from NEM of between $540 and $840. Over the life of a private rooftop solar system, which ranges from 20 to 25 years, this is a significant subsidy resulting from NEM.

Granted, this is an extreme example, and most NEM customers will pay for some portion of grid services. However, the fundamental source of the NEM subsidy is the failure of NEM customers to pay fully for the grid services that they use 24/7, and the cost of these services can be quite substantial. When a NEM customer doesn’t pay for the grid, the cost is shifted onto non-NEM customers.[6] It is a zero-sum game; plain and simple. This is the elephant in the room.

This issue was directly addressed by Austin Energy when the company implemented a “buy-sell” arrangement for the private rooftop solar customers in its service territory. The rationale for the buy-sell approach is that the customer buys all of the energy that is consumed on-site through the electric company’s retail tariff and sells all of the energy produced by their private rooftop solar system at the electric company’s avoided cost. This addresses the “elephant in the room” because, by buying all energy consumed at the retail tariff, the customer does pay for grid services that are largely captured through the retail tariff. It is an unfortunate fact that under ratemaking practices today in the United States, the majority of fixed costs (i.e., grid and other costs) are captured through a volumetric charge.

Hence, I fundamentally disagree with the Muro/Saha paper–NEM does need to be reformed. NEM is not a net benefit; it is a tariff that the much of the time results in a cost shift onto non-NEM customers. One of the first studies to quantify the magnitude of the NEM subsidy was conducted by Energy+Environmental Economics (E3) for the California Public Utilities Commission (CPUC) in 2013. There was no mention of this analysis for the CPUC in the Muro/Saha paper. The E3 study estimated that NEM would result in a cost shift of $1.1 billion annually by 2020 from NEM to non-NEM customers if current NEM policies were not reformed in California.[7] A cost shift of this magnitude–paid for by non-NEM customers–was unacceptable to California regulators. As a result, California regulators set to work to reform rates in their state; many other states followed suit and conducted similar investigations of the magnitude of the NEM subsidy.

In reviewing NEM studies, Muro and Saha chose to focus on a handful of studies that show that net metering results in a benefit to all customers. In this small group of NEM studies, they included a study that E3 conducted for the Nevada Public Utilities Commission (PUC) in 2014–perhaps the most well-known and cited of the five studies included in the Muro/Saha paper. Very soon after the E3 Nevada study was published, the cost assumptions for the base-case scenario which showed a net benefit of $36 million to non-NEM customers (assuming $100 per MWh for utility-scale solar) were found to be incorrect, completely reversing the conclusion. The $36 million benefit associated with NEM for private rooftop solar turned into a $222 million cost to non-NEM customers when utility-scale solar was priced at $80 per MWh.[8] Today, based on the two most recent utility-scale contracts approved by the Nevada PUC, utility-scale solar has an average lifetime (i.e., levelized) cost of $50 per MWh, meaning that the NEM cost shift would be far greater today. In February 2016, the Nevada PUC stated that “the E3 study is already outdated and irrelevant to the discussion of costs and benefits of NEM in Nevada…”[9] Hence, because the E3 study for the Nevada PUC that the Muro/Saha paper included has been declared outdated and irrelevant to the discussion and because costs for utility-scale solar have declined significantly, that study does not show that NEM provides a net benefit.

No doubt there is an intense debate underway about NEM for private rooftop solar, and much has changed in the past two years in terms of both NEM policies and the growth of private solar projects:

• First, several state regulatory commissions now recognize that the NEM cost shift is both real and sizeable and that all customers who use the grid, including NEM customers, need to pay for the cost of the grid. As a result, many electric companies have proposed and state regulatory commissions have approved increases in monthly fixed charges over the past few years; this partially addresses the issue of NEM customers paying for the cost of the grid services that they use.
• Second and related, getting the pricing right for distributed energy resources of all types is important because we expect those resources to grow significantly in the future. Work is underway in this area and it is one focus of the New York Reforming the Energy Vision proceeding; but there is still much to be done.

By focusing on a select group of studies that show that NEM benefits all customers (as stated by the authors); by excluding the E3 study for the CPUC which was fundamental to the NEM cost shift debate; and by not providing an update on the NEM debate today, I believe that the Muro/Saha paper is misleading.

In the second part of their paper, Muro and Saha suggest some helpful regulatory reforms such as moving toward rate designs that “can meet the needs of a distributed resource future” and moving “toward performance-based rate-making (PBR).” Some electric companies have already implemented PBR or some type of formula rate and PBR is under discussion in several states.[10] Lawrence Berkeley National Labs is looking closely at this and related issues in its Future Electric Utility Regulation series of reports currently underway.[11]

Mura and Saha also suggest decoupling as a way forward–I disagree. In my view, decoupling is a not solution for private rooftop solar. Revenue decoupling is currently used to true-up revenues that would otherwise be lost due to declining electricity sales resulting from electric company investments in energy efficiency (EE). Decoupling explicitly shifts costs from participating EE customers to non-participating EE customers causing the same cost-shifting problem that is created by NEM. However, a fundamental difference is that the magnitude of the cost shifting onto non-NEM customers is on a much larger scale than the cost shifting due to EE. A recent study revealed that decoupling rate adjustments for EE are quite small–about two to three percent of the retail rate.^[12] In contrast, as described earlier in this paper, a NEM customer could shift a significant cost onto non-NEM customers (and the NEM cost shifting is essentially invisible to customers, which is one reason that NEM customers do not believe they are subsidized).[13]

Finally, Muro and Saha suggest that electric companies should invest in a more digital and distributed power grid. In fact, electric companies across the United States are doing just that. In 2015, electric companies invested $20 billion in the distribution system alone and this is expected to continue. Over the past five to six years, electric companies invested in the deployment of nearly 65 million digital smart meters to about 50 percent of U.S. households. In addition, electric companies are investing in thousands of devices to make the power grid smarter and more state-aware. Today, in states such as California, Hawaii, and Arizona, electric companies are investing to enable and integrate the distributed energy resources that are growing exponentially. And, in some states–where regulation allows–electric companies are offering rooftop solar or solar subscriptions to their customers.

No doubt, the electric power industry is undergoing a period of profound transformation–our power generation resource mix is getting cleaner and more distributed; the energy grid is becoming more digital; and customers have different expectations.[14]

Collaboration, good public policy, and appropriate regulatory policies are critical to a successful transformation of the power sector. In the context of this paper, this means reforming NEM so that private rooftop solar customers who use the energy grid pay for the grid. One straightforward approach is to require NEM customers to pay a higher monthly fixed charge thereby reducing the cost shift.[15] Ultimately the challenge is to make the transition of the electric power industry–including the significant growth in private rooftop solar and other distributed energy resources–affordable to all customers.

Lisa Wood is a nonresident senior fellow in the Energy Security and Climate Initiative at Brookings. She is also the executive director of the Institute for Electric Innovation and vice president of The Edison Foundation whose members include electric companies and technology companies.

I had been mulling a rebuttal to my colleague and friend Jon Rauch’s interesting—but wrong—new Brookings paper praising the role of “hacks, machines, big money, and back room deals” in democracy. I thought the indictments of Chris Christie’s associates last week provided a perfect example of the dangers of all of that, and so of why Jon was incorrect. But in yesterday’s L.A. Times, he beat me to it, himself defending the political morality (if not the efficacy) of their actions, and in the process delivering a knockout blow to his own position.

Bridgegate is a perfect example of why we need fewer "hacks, machines, big money, and back room deals" in our politics, not more. There is no justification whatsoever for government officials abusing their powers, stopping emergency vehicles and risking lives, making kids late for school and parents late for their jobs to retaliate against a mayor who withholds an election endorsement. We vote in our democracy to make government work, not break. We expect that officials will serve the public, not their personal interests. This conduct weakens our democracy, not strengthens it.

It is also incorrect that, as Jon suggests, reformers and transparency advocates are, in part, to blame for the gridlock that sometimes afflicts our American government at every level. As my co-authors and I demonstrated at some length in our recent Brookings paper, “Why Critics of Transparency Are Wrong,” and in our follow-up Op-Ed in the Washington Post, reform and transparency efforts are no more responsible for the current dysfunction in our democracy than they were for the gridlock in Fort Lee. Indeed, in both cases, “hacks, machines, big money, and back room deals” are a major cause of the dysfunction. The vicious cycle of special interests, campaign contributions and secrecy too often freeze our system into stasis, both on a grand scale, when special interests block needed legislation, and on a petty scale, as in Fort Lee. The power of megadonors has, for example, made dysfunction within the House Republican Caucus worse, not better.

Others will undoubtedly address Jon’s new paper at length. But one other point is worth noting now. As in foreign policy discussions, I don’t think Jon’s position merits the mantle of political “realism,” as if those who want democracy to be more democratic and less corrupt are fluffy-headed dreamers. It is the reformers who are the true realists. My co-authors and I in our paper stressed the importance of striking realistic, hard-headed balances, e.g. in discussing our non-absolutist approach to transparency; alas, Jon gives that the back of his hand, acknowledging our approach but discarding the substance to criticize our rhetoric as “radiat[ing] uncompromising moralism.” As Bridgegate shows, the reform movement’s “moralism" correctly recognizes the corrupting nature of power, and accordingly advocates reasonable checks and balances. That is what I call realism. So I will race Jon to the trademark office for who really deserves the title of realist!

This post continues a series begun in 2014 on implementing the Common Core State Standards (CCSS).  The first installment introduced an analytical scheme investigating CCSS implementation along four dimensions:  curriculum, instruction, assessment, and accountability.  Three posts focused on curriculum.  This post turns to instruction.  Although the impact of CCSS on how teachers teach is discussed, the post is also concerned with the inverse relationship, how decisions that teachers make about instruction shape the implementation of CCSS.

A couple of points before we get started.  The previous posts on curriculum led readers from the upper levels of the educational system—federal and state policies—down to curricular decisions made “in the trenches”—in districts, schools, and classrooms.  Standards emanate from the top of the system and are produced by politicians, policymakers, and experts.  Curricular decisions are shared across education’s systemic levels.  Instruction, on the other hand, is dominated by practitioners.  The daily decisions that teachers make about how to teach under CCSS—and not the idealizations of instruction embraced by upper-level authorities—will ultimately determine what “CCSS instruction” really means.

I ended the last post on CCSS by describing how curriculum and instruction can be so closely intertwined that the boundary between them is blurred.  Sometimes stating a precise curricular objective dictates, or at least constrains, the range of instructional strategies that teachers may consider.  That post focused on English-Language Arts.  The current post focuses on mathematics in the elementary grades and describes examples of how CCSS will shape math instruction.  As a former elementary school teacher, I offer my own personal opinion on these effects.

Certain aspects of the Common Core, when implemented, are likely to have a positive impact on the instruction of mathematics. For example, Common Core stresses that students recognize fractions as numbers on a number line.  The emphasis begins in third grade:

CCSS.MATH.CONTENT.3.NF.A.2
Understand a fraction as a number on the number line; represent fractions on a number line diagram.

CCSS.MATH.CONTENT.3.NF.A.2.A
Represent a fraction 1/b on a number line diagram by defining the interval from 0 to 1 as the whole and partitioning it into b equal parts. Recognize that each part has size 1/b and that the endpoint of the part based at 0 locates the number 1/b on the number line.

CCSS.MATH.CONTENT.3.NF.A.2.B
Represent a fraction a/b on a number line diagram by marking off a lengths 1/b from 0. Recognize that the resulting interval has size a/b and that its endpoint locates the number a/b on the number line.

When I first read this section of the Common Core standards, I stood up and cheered.  Berkeley mathematician Hung-Hsi Wu has been working with teachers for years to get them to understand the importance of using number lines in teaching fractions.^[1] American textbooks rely heavily on part-whole representations to introduce fractions.  Typically, students see pizzas and apples and other objects—typically other foods or money—that are divided up into equal parts.  Such models are limited.  They work okay with simple addition and subtraction.  Common denominators present a bit of a challenge, but ½ pizza can be shown to be also 2/4, a half dollar equal to two quarters, and so on. 

With multiplication and division, all the little tricks students learned with whole number arithmetic suddenly go haywire.  Students are accustomed to the fact that multiplying two whole numbers yields a product that is larger than either number being multiplied: 4 X 5 = 20 and 20 is larger than both 4 and 5.^[2]  How in the world can ¼ X 1/5 = 1/20, a number much smaller than either 1/4or 1/5?  The part-whole representation has convinced many students that fractions are not numbers.  Instead, they are seen as strange expressions comprising two numbers with a small horizontal bar separating them. 

I taught sixth grade but occasionally visited my colleagues’ classes in the lower grades.  I recall one exchange with second or third graders that went something like this:

“Give me a number between seven and nine.”  Giggles. 

“Eight!” they shouted. 

“Give me a number between two and three.”  Giggles.

“There isn’t one!” they shouted. 

“Really?” I’d ask and draw a number line.  After spending some time placing whole numbers on the number line, I’d observe,  “There’s a lot of space between two and three.  Is it just empty?” 

Silence.  Puzzled little faces.  Then a quiet voice.  “Two and a half?”

You have no idea how many children do not make the transition to understanding fractions as numbers and because of stumbling at this crucial stage, spend the rest of their careers as students of mathematics convinced that fractions are an impenetrable mystery.   And  that’s not true of just students.  California adopted a test for teachers in the 1980s, the California Basic Educational Skills Test (CBEST).  Beginning in 1982, even teachers already in the classroom had to pass it.   I made a nice after-school and summer income tutoring colleagues who didn’t know fractions from Fermat’s Last Theorem.  To be fair, primary teachers, teaching kindergarten or grades 1-2, would not teach fractions as part of their math curriculum and probably hadn’t worked with a fraction in decades.  So they are no different than non-literary types who think Hamlet is just a play about a young guy who can’t make up his mind, has a weird relationship with his mother, and winds up dying at the end.

Division is the most difficult operation to grasp for those arrested at the part-whole stage of understanding fractions.  A problem that Liping Ma posed to teachers is now legendary.^[3]

She asked small groups of American and Chinese elementary teachers to divide 1 ¾ by ½ and to create a word problem that illustrates the calculation.  All 72 Chinese teachers gave the correct answer and 65 developed an appropriate word problem.  Only nine of the 23 American teachers solved the problem correctly.  A single American teacher was able to devise an appropriate word problem.  Granted, the American sample was not selected to be representative of American teachers as a whole, but the stark findings of the exercise did not shock anyone who has worked closely with elementary teachers in the U.S.  They are often weak at math.  Many of the teachers in Ma’s study had vague ideas of an “invert and multiply” rule but lacked a conceptual understanding of why it worked.

A linguistic convention exacerbates the difficulty.  Students may cling to the mistaken notion that “dividing in half” means “dividing by one-half.”  It does not.  Dividing in half means dividing by two.  The number line can help clear up such confusion.  Consider a basic, whole-number division problem for which third graders will already know the answer:  8 divided by 2 equals 4.   It is evident that a segment 8 units in length (measured from 0 to 8) is divided by a segment 2 units in length (measured from 0 to 2) exactly 4 times.  Modeling 12 divided by 2 and other basic facts with 2 as a divisor will convince students that whole number division works quite well on a number line. 

Now consider the number ½ as a divisor.  It will become clear to students that 8 divided by ½ equals 16, and they can illustrate that fact on a number line by showing how a segment ½ units in length divides a segment 8 units in length exactly 16 times; it divides a segment 12 units in length 24 times; and so on.  Students will be relieved to discover that on a number line division with fractions works the same as division with whole numbers.

Now, let’s return to Liping Ma’s problem: 1 ¾ divided by ½.   This problem would not be presented in third grade, but it might be in fifth or sixth grades.  Students who have been working with fractions on a number line for two or three years will have little trouble solving it.  They will see that the problem simply asks them to divide a line segment of 1 3/4 units by a segment of ½ units.  The answer is 3 ½ .  Some students might estimate that the solution is between 3 and 4 because 1 ¾ lies between 1 ½ and 2, which on the number line are the points at which the ½ unit segment, laid end on end, falls exactly three and four times.  Other students will have learned about reciprocals and that multiplication and division are inverse operations.  They will immediately grasp that dividing by ½ is the same as multiplying by 2—and since 1 ¾ x 2 = 3 ½, that is the answer.  Creating a word problem involving string or rope or some other linearly measured object is also surely within their grasp.

I applaud the CCSS for introducing number lines and fractions in third grade.  I believe it will instill in children an important idea: fractions are numbers.  That foundational understanding will aid them as they work with more abstract representations of fractions in later grades.   Fractions are a monumental barrier for kids who struggle with math, so the significance of this contribution should not be underestimated.

I mentioned above that instruction and curriculum are often intertwined.  I began this series of posts by defining curriculum as the “stuff” of learning—the content of what is taught in school, especially as embodied in the materials used in instruction.  Instruction refers to the “how” of teaching—how teachers organize, present, and explain those materials.  It’s each teacher’s repertoire of instructional strategies and techniques that differentiates one teacher from another even as they teach the same content.  Choosing to use a number line to teach fractions is obviously an instructional decision, but it also involves curriculum.  The number line is mathematical content, not just a teaching tool.

Guiding third grade teachers towards using a number line does not guarantee effective instruction.  In fact, it is reasonable to expect variation in how teachers will implement the CCSS standards listed above.  A small body of research exists to guide practice. One of the best resources for teachers to consult is a practice guide published by the What Works Clearinghouse: Developing Effective Fractions Instruction for Kindergarten Through Eighth Grade (see full disclosure below).^[4]  The guide recommends the use of number lines as its second recommendation, but it also states that the evidence supporting the effectiveness of number lines in teaching fractions is inferred from studies involving whole numbers and decimals.  We need much more research on how and when number lines should be used in teaching fractions.

Professor Wu states the following, “The shift of emphasis from models of a fraction in the initial stage to an almost exclusive model of a fraction as a point on the number line can be done gradually and gracefully beginning somewhere in grade four. This shift is implicit in the Common Core Standards.”^[5]  I agree, but the shift is also subtle.  CCSS standards include the use of other representations—fraction strips, fraction bars, rectangles (which are excellent for showing multiplication of two fractions) and other graphical means of modeling fractions.  Some teachers will manage the shift to number lines adroitly—and others will not.  As a consequence, the quality of implementation will vary from classroom to classroom based on the instructional decisions that teachers make.  

The current post has focused on what I believe to be a positive aspect of CCSS based on the implementation of the standards through instruction.  Future posts in the series—covering the “bad” and the “ugly”—will describe aspects of instruction on which I am less optimistic.