Textbook Adoption: How Do Professors Select The Right One?

Next, the gimmicks are dismissed--contests offering prizes in the author's name, pledges to donate royalties to save whales or rain forests, vows to overcome science illiteracy, touring authors, and so forth. Remaining, finally, is a pile of books, most of them well-written and abundantly illustrated. How is a busy professor to choose? * The instructor of a 500-student nutrition class is offered $500 if she orders a particular book. The payment is for keeping a diary of student reactions to the text. * A biology department has whittled down its choice to three books. One publisher offers the department $1 for every book ordered, to be used for educational equipment. * The text selection committee of a university science department has made a decision, but changes its mind at the zero hour. Why? The publisher of the second- choice text offers the department a videodisk player if they adopt the book. Many professors and departments encourage such practices, which can be viewed as either bribes or legitimate marketing ploys. Richard McKenzie, a professor of economics at the University of California, Irvine, was appalled at schools' requests for inducements to adopt his textbook The New World of Economics (Homewood, Ill., Irwin Publishing Inc., 1989), written with Gordon Tullock. "A department at a Southwestern university chose our book and two others, and put them up for auction," says McKenzie. "They would adopt the book with the biggest side payment." So McKenzie began talking to publishers' sales reps and quickly learned that monetary enticement to adopt a book, although not rampant, does happen, and not just in economics. In science, these extras are encountered in large introductory biology and chemistry courses--but less so in physics and geology classes, which tend to attract fewer students. McKenzie wasn't the only one concerned about texts on the auction block. In 1989, the New York-based Association of American Publishers (AAP) issued a "statement of principles for college publishing," spelling out in plain English that "College publishers should avoid making any improper inducement to any actual or potential adopter, directly or indirectly, which may be described as a bribe, kickback, or excessive commission or fee which is contingent on the adoption of their textbooks or their ancillary materials." The statement is signed annually by 23 college text publishers. When infractions happen today--and they do--it's usually because a sales rep isn't familiar with the statement, says Terry Sirchia, assistant director of the higher education division of AAP. James Hamann, science marketing manager for D.C. Heath & Co. of Lexington, Mass., sums up the current state of the science textbook: "In an ideal world--or even the world we do have, with the concern that everyone seems to express about improving the quality of science education--one would hope that decisions about what text is used would be based on the quality of the text. Sadly, that doesn't always happen." --R.L. Approaches range from an individual professor's quick "flip-test," giving each contender a five-minute perusal, to committees or entire departments that meticulously evaluate each of a few front-runners. Some harried professors fantasize each semester about tossing the books down a flight of stairs and choosing the one that lands first. Many professors are very organized about what they look for, such as Robert Sherman, chairman of zoology at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. "Does the book match our course content, and is the overall organization reasonable? Is the material at a level at which I plan to teach? Is the information accurate? Is it well-written, with good illustrations? These are the things that I feel are important," says Sherman, a member of a committee that chooses textbooks for the introductory biology course sequence at his school. But the similarity of competing texts can lull a reader into a trance. Jon Harrison, who teaches anatomy and physiology at Arizona State University in Tempe, finds that a pile of textbook clones induces "a tremendous feeling of inertia," making him reluctant to switch texts when all new contenders appear equal. "My approach is to look at a couple, pick whatever topic I'm teaching at the time, and see what that book has [on that topic]," he says. Catherine Olmer, who teaches introductory physics at Indiana University in Bloomington, says she looks "at a few subjects that are usually not well-explained, such as magnetism and electricity." In biology, an analogous topic might be cellular energetics; in chemistry, buffers and kinetics. Professors and students alike cite clarity as a key criterion in textbook selection. "Science texts are too technical, with too many terms to describe processes and mechanisms. Topics are not presented in a simple way," says Jennifer Hesse, a sophomore zoology major at Miami University. Ironically, a text littered with jargon is precisely what leads some professors to select a book; many consider the use of such terms to reflect the expertise of the authors and a complete and up-to-date treatment of the subject. But if the goal is to have students understand a text, this may not be the best approach. To find a book truly suitable for students, Harrison is involving his students in the selection process. Says Harrison: "This semester, I solicited all the books from the myriad of publishers, and chose three texts to hand out to students. I asked students to write a review, and I will use this to help me make a decision for next year." Ancillary Angst Ask science professors how they choose a text, and their responses probably will include such educational criteria as emphasis on the science process and critical-thinking skills. But ask publishers how to win a text adoption, and their answer will be a litany of frills and freebies--slides and software, videotapes and lecture enrichment packages, a lab manual. "If you use all that stuff, you find yourself running around the room turning things on and off," says Sherman. Professors concur that the hands-down winners among ancillaries are acetate transparencies, or "overheads." Put together a dozen overheads, and a lecture emerges that students can easily follow. So popular are overheads that no new text hoping to succeed is offered without them. Overheads no longer give a text an edge in the adoption stakes, as was the case a decade ago; today, they're expected. Sherman acknowledges that if his department considers two books to be in a dead heat, the one with the better ancillary package will win out. And so the upward spiral of publishers outdoing each other with ancillary packages continues, says Mike Keedy, a retired Purdue University math professor who has written several college texts and founded the Orange Springs, Fla.-based Textbook Authors Association in 1988. "Once a publisher starts something, all the competitors must match or beat it." Meanwhile, ancillary package costs drive up text prices and divert text development funds from improving the quality of writing and illustrations. Another reason for the persistence of enormous ancillary packages, and the explosion in illustrations and photographs in textbooks, is that publishers are astute observers of human behavior. And they know that science professors, despite their professed primary interest in pedagogy, are just as easily swayed by attractive packaging as anyone else. "What professors say and what they do are very different," says Denise Schanck, publisher for science and math at New York-based Mc-Graw-Hill Inc. "A few years ago, I led a focus group, discussing books in front of several professors. One said he wanted no supplements, and a book in black and white so the cost to the student would come down. One hour later, we showed the professors a selection of texts, and asked what they liked about them. He said, `I love this book because it has great pictures, good color, and the test bank [booklet of test questions accompanying the textbook] is very good.' He absolutely believed that these things don't make a difference, but when it came time to adopt, he was totally different." That initial appearance is key in building a newcomer into a best seller was borne out by the track record of a 1990 textbook titled Perspectives in Nutrition, by Ohio State University's Gordon Wardlaw and Stanford University's Paul Insel. Here, a carefully crafted design helped to challenge another text that had reigned for a decade. What was the secret to Wardlaw and Insel's success? Their publisher (Times-Mirror Mosby Inc. of St. Louis) recognized a deficiency in the nutrition textbook market--namely the 1950s-ish photography and artwork--and corrected it. Explains Vicki Malinee, an acquisitions editor at Times-Mirror Mosby who helped mold the book, "Nutrition texts usually are not as sophisticated as the biology market, but nutrition is a science, and needs to be treated as such. Lots of biologists teach nutrition, and this was a hot button for them. So we searched for medical illustrators." It worked. But once a book is adopted, the distracting effect of pretty pictures fades, and its accuracy, relevancy, and ability to reflect the current educational trends determine whether or not it will be used for a second go-round. Says Karen Arms, coauthor with Pamela Camp of Biology, a successful introductory biology text (Philadelphia, Saunders College Publishing, 1987), "The first time you adopt a text, there are all sorts of wrinkles, and gimmicks make a difference. But a text ends up proving itself in the field, by how it works out as you teach." Text Turn-Offs If professors are hesitant to admit vulnerability to an attractive text package, they are quick to point out what they dislike. High on the list of dislikes is a book that can be lifted only by a heavyweight champion. The encyclopedic nature of textbooks is a consequence of trying to please everyone who provides input along the way. Textbook content is continually molded by professors who write reviews, for $25 to $100 per chapter. But if 20 reviewers fine-tune a book's coverage of their areas of expertise, and if all their advice is followed, an endless book can result. Determining whose suggestions to implement is perhaps the most difficult part of writing a good textbook. At a time when financially strapped students share books, some professors have economic concerns when considering texts. Some publishers are trying to mitigate the cost problem--and, at the same time, ease the problems associated with offering immense, unwieldy tomes--by offering otherwise large texts in "splits," individually packaged sections that can be selected to match the syllabus, and save student dollars on topics not covered. Do prices of paperback versions of textbooks always offer dramatic savings to the buyer? Not necessarily. In fact, according to an executive editor at a Midwestern academic publisher, the cost of manufacturing a hardback is only about $1 more than the cost of producing a paperback. This translates into a $2 differential in wholesale price, which further translates into a $4 or $5 difference to the student. While this amount may be significant to the student, the resale value of a used paperback is considerably less than that of a hard-bound textbook. For some instructors, the question of textbook selection is a matter of relative unimportance--since they do not rely very much on them. "I use my own lecture notes, and make them available to the students," says Daniel Lewicki of the math/science division of the Junior College of Albany in New York. "The text is really just a supplement, and doesn't make much of a difference." And, as publishers' sales reps well know, it is from professors using their own notes that new texts spring. A survey of 15 authors of introductory biology texts published between 1982 and 1987, conducted by Robert Blystone, Kimberly Barnard, and Sarah Bolimowski of Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas, found that half of the authors wrote their books because of dissatisfaction with available texts. Textbooks' Evolution Go to a garage sale and pick up a biology text circa 1935 and you will find a volume of about 300 to 400 pages, mostly words, with crude drawings of the requisite earthworm or frog. Pick up any of 1992's hot-off-the-press introductory biology books, and you will find 1,000 or so pages alive with spectacular photographs, scanning electron micrographs, and three-dimensional, gloriously colored illustrations. To document precisely what has changed in texts for this most visual of the sciences, Blystone and coworkers scrutinized 12 editions of a book first published in 1921 as Biology for Beginners (by Truman Moon; New York, Henry Holt Publishers), and most recently in 1985 as Modern Biology (by J.H. Otto and A. Towle; New York, Holt, Rinehart & Winston). They chronicle how the chapter on cells swells from six pages with a lone, author-drawn figure in 1921, to 17 pages accompanied by 14 figures, most in full color and including micrographs, in 1985. The use of jargon has increased, too. Blystone concludes that the biology student of today must learn seven times the number of terms as the biology student did back when cells took up only six pages. The big texts of science may soon become an endangered species, edged out by the "electronic book." Already one new biology book is available on CD-ROM, and others are sure to follow. The CD-ROM disk contains the entire text, plus figures and all ancillaries. The instructor can download anything onto a PC, move text to reconstruct a chapter to fit a lecture, and add or delete material. Like a small child facing 31 flavors of equally delicious ice cream, science professors face an enticing array of texts from which to choose. Veterans of many semesters of textbook selection suggest that, given the current alarming state of science illiteracy, it might be best not to go with the book that meticulously dissects every facet of a field, nor with the publisher that offers the most paraphernalia or trots its authors out at fancy receptions. Rather, adopt the one that students are most likely to read--and remember. Ricki Lewis is the author of a college biology text, Life (Dubuque, Iowa, Wm. C. Brown, 1992), and teaches at the State University of New York, Albany.

Textbook Adoption: How Do Professors Select The Right One?

Interested in reading more?

Become a Member of