Improving Students’ Critical Thinking by Trading Questions for Questions

Early in my teaching career, I signed up for every professional development session I could get into. I was hungry to teach my students how to think, which, at the time, was not happening in my chemistry classes with struggling learners at an alternative high school.

I had heard a lot about Socratic questioning, and so I found a program and signed up. I was ready with my laptop, notebook, and coffee.

As the session started and the instructor began to teach and model Socratic questioning, I started to get excited. It sounded so simple: Rather than merely giving students the answer, I’d be guiding them to new insights. I was thinking, “Yes! This is it!” I started visualizing my students really engaging, with me reinforcing their thinking (“You’re on the right track!“) rather than just validating the correct answer.

Trading a question for a question

When I got back to work, I discussed it with my principal and explained what I was planning to do with my classes, and she was on board. Then, when I presented it to my class, I didn’t call it Socratic questioning—I framed it as trading a question for a question. I told them the questions I posed in response to theirs would guide them to their answer.

At first, they were all surprisingly enthusiastic. The period began normally enough. We had our inquiry question of the day that they needed to work on, and then the first question came: “Is this the independent variable?”

Instead of my usual “Yup, good job,” I asked a question: “Is it the variable that is being changed by the experimenter?” I got an “I don’t know?” So I asked, “Did you reread the passage?” When I then got a “No,” I asked, “Do you think it would be a good idea to reread the passage to identify if that is the variable being changed by the experimenter or if it is the variable responding to the change?” That was when I got my first huff and eye roll. I smiled and said, “Keep going—you can do this!”

It was like this the whole day. I tried to stay positive, but by the end of the period, I think reality set in. They realized they had to think, and I wish I could say that it soon began to get better. However, on the contrary, it got much more challenging in the weeks to come. I remember stopping the class and reminding them that they had agreed to this, and if they just trusted me, it would get better. Then one kid said, “Just give me the answer! My brain hurts!”

But I didn’t give in. That was not easy: I began to question myself and wondered whether or not I should stop. I was scared, because it was week six of a nine-week term, and my students were really frustrated. On top of that, their grades were not looking good, either.

A turning point

Then, like magic, something changed during week seven. One day, instead of being asked for an answer, I got my first “Can I trade you a question for a question?” I responded with an enthusiastic “Yes! Yes, you can!” And just like that, the rhythm of trading questions for questions got started.

By the end of the nine-week term, their grades had shot up. Then, somewhere in the second nine-week term, the usual rhythm of trading questions just stopped. I was walking around to observe them working, some independently and some together, but all diligently.

As I checked in with them—“How are you doing? Do you need any help?”—I started to receive similar responses: “No, I’m asking myself the questions and figuring it out and going back to the passage and notes.” I smiled with a nervous, curious face. (Internally, I was like, “Did I hear them right?”)

Then it got even better. One student asked another student if their answer was correct, and that student said, “Well, let me ask you a question…” I nearly burst into tears.

My students that year excelled in everything. They began to use Socratic questioning in all of their classes! I was elated. They didn’t need me as much during their independent work time, and I was able to see and hear their thinking. They were challenging each other, and they were proud of themselves—I mean really proud of themselves. That was the year I stopped answering questions and truly began to embrace Socratic questioning.

This doesn’t mean I don’t answer questions when it’s appropriate. The goal isn’t to frustrate my students and become the Riddler, turning everything into a mysterious riddle. Now, before providing an answer, I always ask myself: Would this take away their opportunity to struggle productively? Would this take away their opportunity to think?