Rethinking Digital Learning: Power, Flexibility, and Inclusion

In a recent CPD Masterclass at the Digital Learning Institute, Stuart Allan shared findings from his doctoral research exploring digital learning spaces and their impact on equity and access. His work challenges us to look beyond the surface of “flexibility” in online learning and examine the unseen power dynamics that shape who thrives, who struggles, and how institutions design digital environments.

When we talk about digital learning, the conversation often focuses on tools, technologies, and content. But as Allen’s research shows, platforms are never neutral. The way a learning environment is structured encodes assumptions about students...what they need, how they learn, and what success looks like.

For example, one university’s online MBA program designed its own platform rather than adopting a commercial learning management system. The decision was driven by a desire for more tailored navigation and offline access for students with inconsistent internet connectivity. While this broadened access, it also reinforced certain patterns of learning linear progress, bounded content, and a “walled garden” approach where everything students needed was contained within the platform.

Flexible learning is often celebrated as inclusive, but Allen’s findings complicate that view. The MBA programme offered rolling enrolments, no cohorts, and no fixed timelines. At first glance, this gave students complete autonomy. In reality, the absence of shared timelines and cohorts made it harder to update course content and created a rigid environment where progress was tracked through linear markers like progress bars and completion rates.

This highlights a paradox: what seems flexible in design can, in practice, constrain learners by privileging a narrow idea of success. Students who were highly self-regulated, comfortable studying alone, and confident in navigating content thrived. Others especially those seeking interaction, structure, or alternative learning pathways were disadvantaged.

A striking element of the research was its attention to geography and power. With one in four students based in Africa, Allen examined how digital education largely produced in the Global North interacts with students in the Global South. Issues such as internet reliability, cultural assumptions about independence, and the privileging of certain ways of learning all shape equity in online education.

This calls for a shift from seeing technology as a simple solution to access, towards recognising the cultural, social, and political contexts in which digital learning takes place. As Allen argues, platforms materialise power relations not only between students and institutions, but also between the Global North and South.

The research raises important questions for anyone involved in digital learning:

• Who is the “assumed student”? If platforms and programs are designed around independent, self-disciplined learners, what happens to those who don’t fit that profile?

• How is learning codified? Metrics such as progress bars or completion rates may oversimplify the complex, iterative nature of real learning.

• What kinds of flexibility are offered? True inclusion requires not just removing deadlines but designing spaces that accommodate different ways of learning and being.

• How can we design with equity in mind? From offline access to recognizing global differences, building inclusive learning environments requires intentional design choices.

Digital learning continues to expand, offering unprecedented opportunities for access. But as this research reminds us, inclusivity is not guaranteed by technology alone. Educators, designers, and institutions must critically reflect on the power dynamics encoded in platforms and practices.

The goal is not just to make learning more “flexible,” but to make it genuinely more equitable, accessible, and human-centered.