The other day I was stuck in traffic behind a vehicle proudly proclaiming that it was “electric”. I’d seen the model before, just never connected it with being available as an EV. I wondered how many other cars on the road turned out to have added an “electric” option to their line-up and how that evolution had just quietly, inexorably occurred.

It started me thinking about the nature of the driving experience and what it would be like for someone who has never seen a petrol, or other fossil fuel burning vehicle, and what driver education might do to incorporate that.

In my teens I first sat on a hotted up moped belonging to a friend, I was old enough to be legal, whilst he wasn’t, so I got to ride his bike to school with him on the back, win-win for both. Later on, I learned to drive a car with a manual gearbox and as interest took me, I learned to drive a double clutch gearbox and got my heavy rigid truck license. I also learned to fly a plane, but that’s besides the point.

Stuck in rush-hour traffic, such as it is in Perth, it made me think about amateur radio licensing and education.

Specifically, how do we incorporate change? When I was first licensed, my education included consideration for analogue television interference, including pictures of different screen patterns, their causes and remedies.

Three years after I got licensed, almost to the day, the last analogue television transmitter in Australia was switched off on 10 December 2013, 57 years after the first transmissions started.

While I retain little, if any, of the now, let’s call it, esoteric information associated with that, it made me consider a wider picture in relation to the process of amateur radio education.

New amateurs today are unlikely to be asked about analogue television interference, let alone be subjected to questions in their exam. Fair enough, information changes, evolves, becomes superseded or expires, and as a side-effect, I have some brain cells dedicated to analogue television, PAL, 625 lines total, 576 visible, horizontal and vertical synchronisation, white noise, you get the idea. As an aside, 78 on a turntable indicates a speed reserved for shellac records until the 1950s, seeing that we’re dropping arcane knowledge. Oh, means NOP on a 6502, in case you’re wondering.

Although I don’t have a specific list of what is currently being taught … more on that in a moment … I daresay that newly minted amateurs have a curriculum that has evolved with technology and legal requirements over the past 15 years.

A tangible example is the fact that the Foundation Class in Australia is now permitted to use digital modes, something that changed after I was licensed, when on 21 September 2019, the regulator amended the Amateur License Conditions Determination, known locally as the LCD, with immediate effect.

The point being that over time things change and education changes with it.

This is all as expected.

Here’s my question.

What about the rest of the community? What happens to someone who has been licensed for a decade, a generation, or more?

Are they expected to gain these skills by osmosis or self-education?

Should this process be dictated by the regulator, or should this be a community effort to bring everyone into the same decade?

Should we revise how we educate our amateurs and make the education skill-set technology agnostic, should we be less prescriptive with the license, or should it achieve something else?

One example in this space is an initiative called the Ham Challenge, which you can discover at hamchallenge.org. In case it sounds vaguely familiar, I’ve talked about this before. It’s a list of 52 activities that you can take on to broaden your horizons and explore different aspects of our hobby. In its first year, I’m looking forward to seeing how it evolves.

Is this the kind of self-training that we might encourage, or is there another way to achieve this? Is this something that occurs elsewhere in society and if so, how has that been addressed? I know for example in ICT there are endless certification courses, which I have to confess are in my professional opinion absolutely counterproductive, serving only to entrench vendor lock-in, not something that I think benefits the amateur community.

I mentioned curriculum a moment ago. Another approach is to attend a licensing course and participate as part of your own self-education. Of course this will require cooperation from the educators, and we’d need to come up with some idea of how this might be useful. Is this something that benefits from attendance every five years, every decade, more, less? As a bonus side-effect, it will introduce new amateurs to old ones, and vice versa, perhaps facilitating a new resurgence of Elmering, or mentorship, that previously has been the hallmark of our community.

Over the decade and a half or so that I’ve been licensed and writing weekly articles about the hobby and our community, I’ve made a conscious effort to keep up to date, to learn new skills, to share what I’ve learnt, to actively explore what I need to learn more about and to share that journey with you.

I realise that this is not a universal experience. For some their amateur license sits in a drawer gathering dust together with their first aid certificate and their first runner-up prize for something that for a minute and a half caught their attention years ago.

For most of us the reality lies somewhere in between. For many, the amateur experience is one of playing on air and getting delight from the doing and participating.

There are those who go out and become teachers, those who sit on boards, those who run clubs and those who get on the local repeater once a week. It takes all of us to make this community and my thoughts are not intended to stop that enjoyment and experience.

I’m trying to discover how we build a resilient community, one that is sustainable in a world of continuous and rapid change.

I’m Onno VK6FLAB