There is no question that Massive Open Online Courses (MOOCs) have revolutionized education.

Today, it is possible to get a Harvard University education without leaving the comfort of your bedroom or the ambiance of your neighborhood coffee shop, using only a tablet or a smart mobile phone. Moreover, you do not have to restrict yourself to the faculty, no matter how competent, or to one university, no matter how highly rated. You could, if you wish, take one subject from the University of Tokyo, another from the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology, and a third from the University of Nottingham.

You could "attend" and even do classroom assignments with the finest teachers at the best universities in the world, without paying anything except your Internet or phone bill. Of course, unless you pay optional matriculation fees, you would not get any proof that you studied under these teachers. Education, however, is not about having a paper diploma to display in your office, but about discovering what there is to be learned.

The problem with MOOCs, however, is that you are not you. You are just a statistic among the growing number of learners taking advantage of the latest trend in education. No one will pay attention to your peculiar learning problems. Although MOOCs do have the advantage of letting you learn at your own pace (because you can pause or even replay lectures any time) and some even allow you to chat with or e-mail the instructor, the teachers do not see your body language. They cannot take into account the kind of non-verbal communication that is a major element of classroom interaction.

A more ideological objection against MOOCs is that they homogenize education. Everyone attending a live lecture has to think in a certain way, depending on the instructor and the university. This is particularly dangerous when the subject is in the humanities. Cultural theorists have long understood that applying one country's set of aesthetic criteria to the artistic products of another often leads to theoretical and practical nonsense.

Take creative writing. The best novels and poems bear the distinctive marks of the places where their authors live. One does not have to look far. It would be impossible to understand The Iliad without knowing something about ancient Greece. Shakespeare would appear ridiculous to an Italian who took the Bard's image of Verona literally. A Western critic might well wonder why Asian readers do not take offense at the peculiar Hong Kong humor of Nury Vittachi's The Curious Diary of Mr Jam.

To solve the problems of homogenization, anonymity, and impersonality, many universities require matriculated students to come to a physical campus. Among these universities is the City University of Hong Kong, which accurately claims that it offers "the world's only international Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in creative writing with an Asian focus."

The program, which started in 2010, bills itself as "low-residency, distance-mentored". In MOOC terms, it is blended or hybrid. It allows students to work from their own homes for most of the two years it usually takes to finish the degree, while giving them a chance to see teachers and students on campus during summer months. In other words, it takes the best features of both old-fashioned classroom-based study and current trends exemplified by MOOCs.

The author has written short stories, plays, and critical essays, for which he has won several literary prizes, including the Southeast Asian Writers Award. He has a PhD in English, and is president of the Manila Times College and a former under-secretary for education.

(HK Edition 12/12/2013 page1)