The Instructional Designer as Gatekeeper
There is a persistent and costly misunderstanding in eLearning projects—particularly within international development and institutional environments—that if you assemble enough qualified people in a room, a meaningful learning experience will naturally emerge. In practice, what often emerges is something visually polished, technically functional, and completely misaligned with what the learner actually needs to do. The issue is not a lack of effort or intelligence; it is a lack of clearly defined roles, decision-making authority, and a fundamental misunderstanding of instructional design as a discipline. When those elements are missing, the learning is no longer designed—it is negotiated, diluted, and ultimately compromised.
Instructional Design Is a Science—Not vibes
Instructional design is not about making content look engaging. It is grounded in applied learning science, cognitive psychology, and well-established methodologies that guide how different types of knowledge and skills are best developed. A competent instructional designer understands that not all information behaves the same way and cannot be treated as such.
Verbal information, intellectual skills, cognitive strategies, motor skills, and attitudes each require distinct approaches, techniques, and forms of reinforcement. Designing for these domains requires intentional selection of methods, not arbitrary formatting decisions.
This is where a significant disconnect often occurs. Team members who are not trained in instructional design frequently divert attention from their responsibilities to attempt to direct layout, interaction, and visual structure as if these are neutral or purely aesthetic choices. They are not.
Decisions about layout, media use, and interaction are governed by evidence-based principles such as those outlined in the work of Richard E. Mayer and Ruth C. Clark, whose multimedia principles are not suggestions but guidelines grounded in cognitive load theory. These principles exist precisely to prevent unnecessary complexity, reduce cognitive overload, and support comprehension.
When these principles are ignored, the consequences are predictable: cluttered screens, redundant information, competing visual elements, and interactions that distract rather than reinforce learning. The same applies to accessibility standards such as WCAG, which are often treated as optional considerations rather than non-negotiable requirements. When I am asked to accommodate design preferences that violate these principles, the conversation shifts very quickly from “what looks good” to “what should be justified or proven.” More often than not, that justification does not exist.
Make The Evaluation Matrix visible
From the perspective of a senior instructional systems designer, every project is being continuously evaluated against a matrix (encoded in your ID DNA) that most people in the room do not see—and, in many cases, do not even realize exists. While others focus on progress, outputs, or visual polish, the instructional designer is assessing alignment, validity, and potential for transfer in real time.
This means constantly interrogating the work through questions such as:
- What exactly is the learner expected to do as a result of this training?
- Is that expectation cognitively realistic?
- Does the content genuinely support that outcome, or is it simply adjacent information?
- Are we designing for exposure, or for application?
- What type of learning is this, and are we using the correct strategy for it?
- Is the assessment capable of producing valid evidence of competence, or is it merely checking recall?
- Where are the gaps between what the course claims and what it can actually deliver?
These are not abstract concerns. They are the difference between a course that performs and one that merely exists.
Why Roles Cannot Be Blurred
One of the most consistent failure points in eLearning projects is the blurring of roles. Project managers are essential for coordination, scheduling, and delivery oversight, but they are not responsible for pedagogical /andragogical decisions.
Instructional design requires a specific body of knowledge and experience that cannot be approximated through general project oversight. When these roles are conflated, learning quality becomes secondary to logistical efficiency.
Similarly, the role of the Subject Matter Expert is frequently misunderstood. SMEs are critical for ensuring content accuracy, but expertise in a subject does not automatically translate into the ability to design effective learning. I have encountered numerous situations where SMEs provide content that is overly theoretical, disconnected from the learner’s context, or subtly redirected toward their own academic interests rather than the agreed objectives. In environments where their authority goes unchallenged, this drift becomes embedded in the course, often without anyone recognizing the misalignment until it is too late.
The Bells & Whistles Course Fallacy
There is also a pervasive tendency across teams to equate quality with presentation. The goal becomes producing something that looks engaging, functions smoothly, and can be delivered efficiently. Once the course is built, the assumption is that the work is complete and the team can move on. This approach fundamentally misunderstands the purpose of learning. A course is not successful because it is complete; it is successful if it enables the learner to perform better in their role.
A visually appealing course that does not improve performance is not harmless—it creates the illusion of competence without delivering it. This is one of the most dangerous outcomes in professional learning environments, particularly where the stakes of application are high.
Scope Creep and the Rise of Uninformed Opinion
When instructional authority is not clearly established, projects become highly susceptible to scope creep driven by preference rather than purpose. Stakeholders begin to request changes based on subjective reactions, SMEs introduce additional content based on personal priorities, and clients focus on visual elements without understanding their instructional implications. Project managers, aiming to maintain progress and relationships, often accommodate these inputs rather than filtering them.
The result is a gradual but steady erosion of coherence. The course expands in size, but not in effectiveness. What is rarely asked in these moments is the critical question: does this decision improve the learner’s ability to perform? If the answer cannot be clearly articulated, then the addition is not contributing to the learning—it is diluting it.
Scope Creep and the Rise of Uninformed Opinion
The instructional designer’s role is not to assemble or accommodate—it is to interrogate, structure, and, when necessary, reject.
This begins at the very first kickoff meeting, which must function as a working session rather than a performative exchange of credentials. Establishing clear, agreed-upon general and specific learning objectives at this stage is not optional; it is the foundation upon which all subsequent decisions are made.
Once those objectives are defined, everything must map back to them with precision. Content is selected and structured based on relevance, not availability. Assessments are designed to produce valid evidence, not to satisfy a requirement. Performance support tools are integrated where they are needed to bridge learning and application. When the project inevitably begins to drift—as additional inputs are introduced or priorities shift—the instructional designer must identify and call out that deviation.
This is not a matter of preference or personality. It is a matter of accountability. If what is being produced is no longer faithful to the defined objectives, then the issue must be raised clearly and directly. Allowing misalignment to persist for the sake of convenience or consensus results in a product that is complete in form but ineffective in function.
Who vex loss (“Only informed objections should influence the outcome”)
In many eLearning projects, the instructional designer is the only person in the room evaluating whether the learning actually works. While others are focused on delivery, completion, or presentation, the instructional designer is focused on alignment, validity, and impact.
That is why the role cannot be diluted or treated as interchangeable. It is the last line of defence between a course that looks good—and a course that actually does what it claims. And once that line is crossed, no amount of polish can recover what was never properly designed in the first place.