Archive for the ‘Information Technology and Information Literacy’ Category

State of Play, Day 2

Saturday, June 20th, 2009

Trying to think about yesterday’s sessions before we get started. What is sticking with me is this:

1. No application, design or game can live up to the utopian imagination of potential users or players, and that utopian imagination is surprisingly resilient in the face of many disappointments. I’ve been writing a bit recently about a couple of notorious past cases of vaporware MMOs where players really expected everything and more from them: a sandbox, a mimetic mirror of the world, an instrument to reform real life, and more fun than a barrel full of monkeys. So I should know better to have those feelings myself by now. And yet, I really was struggling with deflated feelings as I messed around with Metaplace during and after Raph Koster’s keynote on it. Those feelings aren’t fair to Metaplace, which seems very interesting in many respects, and provides some fascinating points of contrast and comparison to Second Life in particular. But somehow I was expecting an authoring environment that would generate a wider variety of visual and narrative experiences for users and a wider range of implied invitations to possible creators. Maybe that has yet to come, because it’s still very early days for it. The thing for me now is to see it for what it is and what it was meant by its producers to be. Still, even in those terms, to go back to my post from yesterday, I was struck that Raph seemed to position Metaplace in terms of functions and purposes that are already strongly served or satisfied by existing tools and applications.

2. This morning, Doug Thomas is talking about the theme of “Plateau” for the conference, and in the magic circle and economies panel, I did feel that we’re at a point rather like that. But it makes it frustrating because it’s hard to move the conversation onward in a number of respects.

Liveblogging From State of Play, Session 4

Friday, June 19th, 2009

On Virtual Economies

Julian Dibbell’s introduction: maybe virtual economies were not so important, or not as important as we thought in the way that we thought they were. Maybe RMT doesn’t have to be quite the battleground that it was. Virtual economies don’t have to be radically autonomous to be richly interesting and playful.

Stephanie Rothenberg

Sweatshop education through reenactment in Second Life, film “Invisible Threads”

[Comment: the problem here is that the reality of MMO games trumps the polemical intent of their project, I think. Not the RMT sweatshops, but just think of pizza-making in The Sims Online, and how quick some players were to turn their leisure into a sweatshop-style operation. But I readily confess to a strong bias against serious games that are crafted as polemics--I think they're an inefficient way to make a critique and end up reinforcing the image of left critique as cheerless (e.g., taking play and making play 'serious'). Plus it's hard not to end up as condescending towards the people you're meaning to polemicize--they haven't gotten our message yet, so we have to use a game! Not usually thoughtful as Bogost is about what makes a game persuasive, often just a translation of a polemical text into a mechanically simple game structure.]

Margaret Wallace, Rebel Monkey Properties

CampFu, casual teen-oriented game. Designer trying to talk about how they think about putting an economy into the gameplay.

[My thought: I'm really struck here at how unvarnished or undisguised the instrumentalism of design thinking about an economy here is: that it is designed to make players do something which is not the economy itself ("engagement") is the word here, but not fun in and of itself. But what's not clear to me, and Juho Hamari's interesting work earlier in the meeting really seems to be saying interesting things on this subject, is whether they're actually right about whether economic design is instrumentally effective.]

Andy Schneider, Live Gamer. New startup. Talking about RMT. Live Gamer proposed to integrate with an MMO rather that be outside of it, sort of a new covenant with developers. Average transaction size $45-50, greatest volume is Fridays. Live Gamer also works with GoPets’ secondary market: [ME: parents, lock up your credit cards.] [Schneider doesn’t really talk about the other big side of this, I think: the more the developer directly benefits from the cash value of items, the more you are tempted to design straight to that premise, so that cash differentially buys what in-game labor time now buys.

Ted Castronova

Fusion of real and virtual work spaces and labor value was inevitable; markets will seek more efficient solutions, less trouble, lower transaction costs.

We need to think about the policy and social consequences of the current state of economies in virtual worlds, however, to not merely let markets dictate this. Also argues it is in the self-interest of the game industry to be worried about the merging of the real and virtual; among other things, taxation will be extracted directly per transaction once the state is finally aware that this merger has happened. If it’s kept fuzzy, maybe the state’s presence or role can be kept fuzzy.

Need to actually make active decisions now, policies, not leave it to developers, create serious covenants between players.

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Curious exchange later: James Bower of Whyville.net described himself as training children for civic and political life through Whyville, and compared it to a Greek city-state. Knowing something about Greek city-states, I’m thinking this is a less wholesome comparison than he thinks. But Ted Castronova really pushed back on him, and noted that it’s an odd thing for someone in an autocratic position to be seeing themselves as preparing kids for democratic citizenship. Bower said, “Yeah, it’s a Greek city-state, and I’m Zeus”. Well, it’s an old metaphor with virtual worlds, actually, so not that odd.

Liveblogging From State of Play, NYC, Session 3

Friday, June 19th, 2009

“Breaking the Magic Circle”

We had a prior discussion at my table about whether there’s anything much left of use in “the magic circle” as a concept, and someone mentioned a recent discussion by Jesper Juul on the issue.

Jerry Paffendorf discusses the graphing of different kinds of online experiences at Metaverseroadmap.org, point of observing that the ways in which virtual world experiences spill out or become visible to some publics. He’s got a project for selling a square inch of land in Detroit, using them to link to virtual spaces. (Loveland)

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Alexander Macris, publisher & editorial director of The Escapist.

Use of achievement system within forums spurred a lot of forum participants to find ways to get badges, etc, how that makes participation (and incentives) on a forum very “game-like”, MMO type…so how MMOs are becoming a larger metapractice. How to make rock-paper-scissors more exciting–culmulative, competitive, contextual. “for our audience, what mattered more was what was outside the ‘game’ of badges, not inside of it–the external systems of recording etc.”

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Beth Coleman, media studies at MIT

“emergent design principles in X-reality design”
how design between virtual and real interact and iterate on each other
“if we’re moving toward ubiquitious computing, we need to move towards an experience of ubiquitious use”

Another claim in this case that 3d modeling makes controlling or commanding processes in the real world, but I find this one much more satisfying and intriguing, partly because it’s not a comprehensive claim, focused on particular (and highly spatial) kinds of physical work that requires complex two-way information flows.

More detailed paper on her arguments is availabl
e. Very interesting.
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Elizabeth Lawley
“tangible matters”
the tangibility of the virtual makes a difference.

Why are we at this conference, given that we could do it all online?
social capital needs to transfer across a magic circle to be valuable; can’t be tied up in a world

Liz argues that this is about inherent desire, that we have a need for materiality.

[One thought: I wonder how much of this point is getting tangled up in a difference between the ephemeral and the persistent, e.g., we value some objects not just because they're material, graspable, touchable, but because they last. there are a lot of 'tangible' things which are very short-lived that we struggle to keep hold of, and a lot of tangible but ephemeral moments are also private, only something you remember: a view on a hike, a butterfly that crosses our path, etc.]

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Dennis Crowley, how game-logics spill out into the world. A lot like Thomas Malaby’s point about gas mileage and ludocapitalism. Mentions Feltron Reports, very interesting example. Once you start thinking of everyday life in ludic terms, and social software lets you make that something other than a private or idiosyncratic understanding, what happens to everyday life.

———————–
[Another thought: as is often the case around these topics, I think people are overstating the novelty of making everyday tasks into something ludic, or creating a game-like feeling around accumulative or numerical tasks. Putting notches in a gun, etc. Heck, Gimli and Legolas playing "kill the orc". This is a pretty old and elemental way to talk about repetition, accumulation, and so on. The difference here is the technologically-mediated collection of individual action and its reporting in systems of achievements, badges, placements into maps and spaces, and so on. The impact is not that something becomes playful suddenly that was not, but that you gain a sense of all other people playing a game; that the playfulness of tasks become transparent to all the people interested in or involved in the system. That cuts both ways, as you can see with WoW achievements. On one hand, it's fascinating to find out what everyone else is doing in WoW, and what your practice is in relation to that; on the other hand, it becomes a driver of what people do, and the basis for a new and maybe unwanted system of social power.]

Liveblogging From State of Play, NYC, Session 2

Friday, June 19th, 2009

Government and governance in virtual worlds panel.

Tori Horton, description of how virtual worlds can link to public diplomacy, reviews weaknesses and strengths of virtual worlds for servicing public diplomacy.

My comment: same issue as with Raph’s framing of Metaplace, really. Why should we privilege or turn to virtual worlds for communicative purposes? What can we do more there that we can’t with other media forms or tools? (I think we can, but I feel like folks who are advocates of virtual worlds get pretty cagey about this point.) Either it’s about particular publics that are important or it’s about a way of communicating that has distinctive character, effects, etc. (which might include being indirect or diffuse in communicating)

Jean Miller, governance. When government agencies were interested in being in Second Life, why? What kinds of challenges did they face?

Me: in a way, this is kind of the story that’s now being told about Second Life as a quasi-postmortem: all the organizations and institutions that went into Second Life with an idea about what virtuality was and would do for them, and found difficulties, etc.–most of them are now absent from Second Life or very nearly so. I think this is where virtual worlds as an overall idea or media form are at this point now as a whole: they were oversold as the arrival of the Metaverse, the virtual world as replacement or overlay for the world. Instead, it’s just a media form, an interesting one, but it can’t do any of the things that were expected of it (or that were hyped about it).

Elizabeth Losh. Virtual state. Book, Virtualpolitik. Thinking about military video games, why and how do militaries choose to make games. Interested in how game developers come into the military institution, but points out that when people come to doing a game from the military side is in some ways more interesting. Looking at the way that Iraq specifically was represented in military games. Emergent play within several worlds, used to train but also for other purposes (therapy for PTSD, for example). Use of game to demonstrate or authenticate an existing project from government. Looking at repurposing of Second Life Iraq representations for artistic or political commentary.

William May, description of official thinking about use of virtual worlds within State Department, esp. Second Life, how they took an interest, what they thought they could do within Second Life that they couldn’t do otherwise. “It’s just another medium: it has to let us do something that we couldn’t do otherwise”.

Liveblogging From State of Play, NYC

Friday, June 19th, 2009

Raph Koster, “A New Kind of World”, keynote

Focused on Metaplace.

Had to ban his own brother from UO. Brother is now cyberactivist. But virtual worlds don’t have that relevance, really. Nothing has happened in them that matters by comparison to what’s happening with Twitter, blogs, and so on. Virtual worlds aren’t really social media, despite our looking at them with such excitement.

Why do we assume virtual worlds are relevant, given how the incredibly relevant character of other new media, online tools, etc.? The thing is that other online media forms are largely open, individually autonomous, decentralized.

“Virtual worlds don’t really work this way”. Metaplace, he argues, is different. It’s open, designed to work with and be like the Web.

But what is the “killer app” for virtual worlds? It’s wasting time, having fun, escapism. Serious uses aren’t what they’re about.


HERE is my big question at this point, then. 1. Why should a place for “having fun” be interoperable with the Web, being open, and so on? Without going too far towards the “magic circle”, a lot of play and leisure are set aside or semi-separated from the rest of everyday life. The Web is a place for acting, publishing, intercommunicating; those things can happen in play, but trying to make play into a place for acting, publishing, intercommunicating is missing in a way what people want from entertainment and play? 2. Why do we want to do these things through avatars, 3d representations, etc.? There is an old desire to make interfaces visual, but maybe the centrality of text to the Web isn’t an accident. Once you describe Metaplace the way Raph does, the question is, ‘Why not just stick with Twitter, blogs, Flickr…what is missing from the Web that Metaplace provides? Or for that matter, what is missing from digital games? Warcraft provides a game, the Sims a dollhouse.

The beginning of Raph’s answer: it involves placeness, persistence and avatars.

The Usefulness of Scholarship

Saturday, June 13th, 2009

If you define erudition as encyclopedic knowledge about a body of discrete facts, then welcome to the age of distributed erudition. It’s still a very good thing to have those facts in your head rather than to pop up on the screen at the end of a search query, but that’s like saying it’s a good thing to have a poem memorized rather than to have to read it over and over again on the page. A good thing, but not necessary.

So a scholar had better be more than erudite in that sense if there is any usefully distinctive future for scholarship. Look at the series of open questions I posted about modern African history, all of them scholarly questions with (I hope) important implications not just for understanding Africa but for understanding many other issues of continuing importance: state failure, nationalism, imperial rule, global capitalism and so on. None of them are questions that can be resolved just by searching Wikipedia alone.

Some of them are issues which a smart searcher could fairly quickly triangulate upon using online databases and catalogs. Look for “the Scramble for Africa” and not only will you find a pretty decent Wikipedia entry, but you’ll also find in library catalogs a few books that are very clearly directly concerned with that event. Look at those and you’ll pretty quickly understand not only what happened in narrative terms, but you’ll become acquainted with a long-standing debate about the causes of the Scramble that goes right back to the event itself. You’ll still need to read some of the more detailed material, but arguably you could do without an expert scholar to explain it to you. (In the end, asking the expert might be more efficient, though.)

But take the question, “how did Africans think about or understand colonialism? How important was it to them? What social and political developments in African societies were primarily a response to or critique of colonial authority?” It’s a question that runs across the whole of modern Africanist historiography, but good luck just searching for compressed, focused treatments of it using either web-wide or authoritative catalogs.

Some of the clearest scholarly conversations about the question aren’t even directly about Africa (Marshall Sahlins and Gananath Obeyesekere debating about Captain Cook and Hawaii, for one). There are almost no texts that deal exclusively with this issue as such (Jennifer Cole’s excellent Forget Colonialism? is one of the few, and even that deals with the memory of colonialism in the present rather than the past consciousness of colonial subjects). However, a concern with these questions is strongly distributed throughout the historiography.

The issue is obviously a crucial one. What do most Iraqis really feel about the U.S. occupation? Important to know, hard to know. Were any of the attacks on occupying troops motivated primarily by anger at the fact of occupation? Or were they reactions to specific mistakes or errors in the administration of occupation in its first two years? Or did they have little to do with occupation per se and more to do with pre-existing conflicts between factions in Iraq? Those were important questions at the height of the occupation and they’re still important. There is no simple way to answer them. Even with access to extensive polling data and a wealth of information about what ordinary people are supposedly thinking in the U.S. or Western Europe, these kinds of questions are extremely difficult to answer satisfactorily.

My understanding of African history of a scholar gives me tools for helping others to answer those questions.

The first step is settling on a model for how people think, and how (or whether) what they think informs how they act. There are a number of arguments out there which claim that if consciousness doesn’t inform concrete, visible action in the world, it doesn’t really matter as far as the historian or anthropologist is concerned. From that perspective, in fact, consciousness doesn’t matter at all: just study visible action.

But on the other hand, there are plenty of arguments that what people say about why they did something and the actual reasons they did it don’t always or even often align. Moreover, what people believe about the motivations of the actions taken by others is a more powerful influence on their response, whether or not their belief is warranted.

Many historians, especially those dealing with colonialism and slavery, do not want to settle for just dealing with visible action, precisely because they’re studying circumstances where people are kept from acting in ways that they might wish to act. If, for example, the question of whether Africans objected violently to colonial rule in the 1930s rests on “did they carry out violent resistance?”, the answer might be, “Only in a few places or circumstances did they object enough to sustain violent resistance.” Similarly, you might conclude that slaves in the antebellum United States did not object to slavery with sufficient force to engage in slave rebellions. For a long time, historians have been very unsatisfied with those conclusions, and have sought to demonstrate how a host of other, smaller kinds of resistance were a better guide to the consciousness of colonial subjects or slaves.

For me, one strong concrete example for exploring these issues in modern Africa are the episodes of religious unrest and rebellion across central and southern Africa connected with the Watchtower movement (and similar movements like the Kimbanguists in the Belgian Congo). Karen Fields wrote a useful book (with a useful theoretical introduction) on this subject in 1985, and there’s other readings out there (primary and scholarly) that can extend the discussion from Fields’ analysis. What did the adherents think they were doing? Does it matter whether they intended to resist colonial rule if colonial administrators thought that they intended to resist and acted accordingly? What does it mean that movements with similar organizational structure and character in this region have persisted since the colonial era and arguably also predate it?

There are lots of other clusters or nodes of scholarly and primary material that help to get at these questions. But until we have real artificial intelligence of some kind, this is the kind of knowledge that a Google-driven world still can’t readily provide merely for the asking.

The Laptop in the Classroom

Wednesday, May 6th, 2009

Our Lady of Scathing Online Schoolmarmery forgive me, but I don’t think I will be banning laptops in my classrooms in the near-future.

The case against classroom laptops is that they encourage students to divert their attention from class, either to other tasks like email or to total goof-off activities like watching videos or porn. This is viewed as a problem not just for the distracted student but for any students able to see the offending laptop use.

For the most part, I’ve benefited from laptop users in discussions and lectures. Students who have superb search skills have introduced useful material or questions into discussion. In a few cases, I’ve had students find pertinent archival video in response to the drift of the conversation which I’ve then put up on the classroom projector.

I am sure there are students in my classes who have multitasked during a lecture or discussion. I’ll be honest with you. I’ve done the same on my laptop when I’ve been in the audience during conferences or lectures, usually email. I’ve done that in response to being bored, but I’ve also done it as a kind of thoughtful doodling while feeling quite engaged and interested in what the speaker is saying and taking copious notes. So it doesn’t worry or offend me that a student might be doing the same. If it’s because they’re bored, that’s an issue with my presentation. (Though I’m not going to take responsibility for getting universal engagement: you can’t get blood from a stone, and some students are stones.) If the audience is still being thoughtful, taking good notes, and retaining information while multitasking, why should I care?

If a student using a laptop is not paying attention at all, that’s a problem. I think the people who blame the technology may be forgetting that this is an old part of the art of being a student. Equipped with nothing but pen and paper, students have doodled, snuck in magazines, drowsed, written letters, daydreamed behind sunglasses and spent time surveilling other students in preference to watching the professor. The most outrageous example of obvious disengagement that I’ve ever seen in my own classes came last year in a room with about a quarter of the students using laptops. It was a student who brought crossword puzzles to class discussion and dutifully completed them with a bored look on her face.

I didn’t make a fuss about that behavior, so I’m unlikely to make a fuss about laptops, either. I’m not a student’s mommy and I’m not a student’s nanny. If they want to waste four expensive years, I’m not going to shake a reproving finger at them or humiliate them impersonally in the style of The Paper Chase’s Professor Kingfield. (I completely approve of those professors who want to do that, mind you. It’s just not my style.)

About the only thing that strikes me as distinctive about laptops is that a student viewing movies or images would be a unique annoyance to other students around them. If I thought that was happening a good deal, I’d be more inclined to consider a ban, or to take action against the offending student. (Swarthmore students and alums reading this post: am I right in thinking this is fairly uncommon behavior? Or have you been in my classes or other classes here fuming in annoyance over some guy watching YouTube and wishing the professor would do something about it?)

I know that my institution’s classrooms are not at all typical of the wider world of academia. Distracting laptops in lectures delivered to three or four hundred students in large universities or a night course at a community college where some students are trying to get professional retraining after working a full day are a different matter than laptops in a twenty-person discussion course at an elite college. I suspect in some institutions that the misuse of laptops is more common on a per capita basis.

At least some of the time, however, I worry that anti-laptop sentiment at other institutions is a red herring meant to distract from the real culprit: a pedagogy built around the droning delivery of static lectures (or PowerPoint slides) to huge audiences of understandably disengaged students. You could ban every conceivable distraction and order students strapped into their seats but that alone is not going to compel engagement or learning if the professor doesn’t take on the burden of keeping students engaged. The devil laptop is sometimes like the demon rum: an alibi for sins commenced long before the hated object made its appearance.

Cramer and Stewart

Friday, March 13th, 2009

I’m very much enthused by the proposition that Jon Stewart and his merry band of TIVO-ing staffers should step up their attacks and go after much of the rest of the media.

The basic drive behind the Daily Show’s criticism of CNBC is that at the end of the day, truth matters. Getting it right matters. That it’s time to cowboy up and act like adults, to be responsible for what we say in public. To wipe off the clown makeup when we’re performing in roles where what we do is consequential.

One of the off-stage handmaidens of the mess we’re in now is that a lot of the mainstream media, a lot of online writers and a lot of public figures all arrived at the same place over the last two decades, that your schtick was what mattered, your brand name, your spin. That you didn’t have any responsibilities beyond that. That you’re just a performer, an entertainer, that anyone who takes you seriously is a rube. That if you’re wrong about fundamentals or facts, bluster and splutter a bit, throw up some smoke, out-yell the other guy, change the subject, and if that doesn’t work, shrug and say, “Who cares, none of this really matters anyway.”

Stewart didn’t let Cramer or his colleagues off the hook with that excuse. It would have been very easy, much less emotionally excruciating, to just open the door to that alibi, to say, “I understand, you’re just trying to entertain, it’s not meant seriously, your viewers understand it’s all an act, maybe you should just put a more explicit disclaimer in front of your show”. But Stewart didn’t invite that escape, and Cramer wasn’t able to seize it from him.

The jaw-dropping refrain from Cramer throughout the segment was, “Well, I talked to this well-placed source and he lied to me.” You talk to a source and if you trust that source, that’s it, case closed, story finished, judgment rendered. It was delicious to see Stewart constantly circle back to this defense and express unfiltered anger and disgust at its patent inadequacy. This is especially true with financial reporting because there is a public record, there is public information, there was enough out there beyond the sources that could have been consistently used to push back on them. There were observers who saw the over-leveraging, the bad debt, the hubris coming from a long ways off, and they didn’t see all of that by calling up a couple of CEOs and asking them if there was a problem.

I do not think that this description of methodology is limited to Cramer. I think it’s what a tremendous amount of mainstream journalism has become, the pimping of connections, the passing-on of self-interested representations from powerful and influential people who are otherwise safely insulated from skepticism. Judith Miller had the same alibi.

Journalism, Civil Society and 21st Century Reportage

Friday, March 6th, 2009

As the failure of many newspapers looms and public radio cuts its journalistic offerings, the complaint against new media by established journalists gets sharper and sharper. The key rallying cry is that new media can’t provide investigative reporting, that it can only piggyback on the work of the mainstream print and radio media, and that when the newspapers go, there goes investigative work and all the civic value it provided.

As a starting point in a conversation about the future, this complaint is much more promising that complaining about how people on the Internet are really mean or stupid. It narrows the discussion down to a central function of journalism, the independent investigation of government, industry and society and the delivery of information from such investigation.

I know that many of the journalists talking along these lines don’t really mean to throw overboard all the other writing (and jobs supported by that writing) that appears within most major newspapers. But I’m going to take it that way: as a concession that much of the rest of the content of 20th Century newspapers is served either equivalently or better by online media. We don’t need newspapers to have film criticism or editorial commentary or consumer analysis of automobiles or comic strips or want ads or public records. It might be that existing online provision of those kinds of information could use serious improvement or has issues of its own. It might be that older audiences don’t know where to find some of that information, or have trouble consuming it in its online form. But there’s nothing that makes published newspapers or radio programming inherently superior at providing any of those functions, and arguably many things that make them quite inferior to the potential usefulness of online media. So throw the columnists and the reviewers and the lifestyle reporters off the newspaper liferaft.

So it comes down to independent, sustained investigation of public affairs. The argument that online media cannot provide this function comes down to money, in two respects. First, that doing this kind of work requires an organization that will support the travel and costs necessary to doing this work, that if you want reports from Darfur or Afghanistan or the U.S. Presidential campaign, you’ve got to pay for reporters to travel and live and acquire information, and you’ve got to pay to have an organization that legitimates those reporters so that informational sources will recognize and trust and accredit those reporters. Second, that you’ve got to pay people a living wage for reporters and writers to do this kind of work in a dedicated fashion, that while people might produce short-form criticism of current films or games or TV shows purely out of voluntary interest while making a living at some other job, they are not going to engage in sustained investigatory work for serial or short-form publication without being paid to do so.

I agree, but let me first pick a few nits before moving to a possible answer to the problem of financial support for reportage.

1) The key distinction here is “short-form publication”. Longer reportage, at book length, is at least arguably still supported financially by other publishing economies besides newspapers, that consumers will still pay for serious nonfiction and investigative reportage. Arguably a lot of the work appearing at that length is more satisfying and substantial than newspaper journalism, in fact: it doesn’t require savage editing or oversimplification in order to fit within the format of a daily paper. If you were trying to understand the Iraq War as it unfolded, where would you rather turn? The ten to twenty excellent books produced by reporters or the fairly shabby and inconsistent record of daily reportage in mainstream newspapers? It’s true that newspaper jobs underwrote some of the production of those books, but transferring that support onto the book publishing industry doesn’t strike me as impossible.

Moreover, if we lost at least some short-form reporting, that might be a blessing in disguise. Daily newspapers (and yes, daily blogs) are forced to make many mountains out of molehills precisely because they need to report every day on stories whose development is not necessarily a day-to-day affair. So we get microreadings of tracking polls, parsings of speeches, small leaks blown into gigantic kabuki theater for the amusement of Inside-the-Beltway types, none of which really tells us much about how a story is actually developing. Online media, print media, and television all suffer from this, but maybe if we gave way to longer press cycles and more substantive publication forms, we’d be very well-served.

Still, some stories do need daily coverage in a short-form manner. Sometimes we can’t wait six months for a book or three months for an article in the Atlantic.

2) If print journalists want to claim that their saving grace is independent, investigative journalism, they might want to clean house a bit first, because a substantial amount of print journalism doesn’t really live up to that ideal. Getting fed information by a confidential source inside an Administration or inside a business who is using the reporter either to kick a rival in the teeth or as part of a coordinated scheme to float a trial balloon about a hypothetical decision is not independent investigative reporting. It’s a collusive agreement to serve as an unpaid assistant to the public-relations staff of a government or business. Calling a few experts on your Rolodex and plugging them into static paragraphs in an article that otherwise just processes the conventional wisdom of punditry is not independent investigative reporting.

If what we want to support is sustained, independent investigation of issues of public concern, we need some new models about how to do that kind of work. A lot of what passes for investigation now isn’t ultimately that different from what online media can provide, and much of that alleged reporting will be reinvented if newspapers pass from the scene. Government officials are still going to try and manipulate information to their advantage even if they don’t do it by leaking to a major urban daily. Industries are going to try to get favorable coverage from seemingly independent sources even if they don’t have a Washington Post or Los Angeles Times to do it through.

Investigative reporting, wherever it ends up appearing, needs to tighten up its ethics and to systematize and broaden its methodology. And that effort needs to go in tandem with legislative and governmental reforms: better sunshine laws, more requirements for disclosure and transparency from private businesses and institutions, and so on. Investigative reporting should involve a sustained, deep reading and use of publically available materials, the acquisition of independent technical or expert knowledge about the issues in an investigation, and sustained pressure on publically available sources to speak to the investigation. Ethically it requires a lot of attention to remaining independent. This does not mean balanced in that tedious one-hand other-hand way: a good investigative reporter can have a strong view or sensibility about the subject of their investigation. But they can’t be a shill or mouthpiece for some off-stage interest.

=======

This, I agree, can’t be done for free, or in the spare hours after work. Bloggers mostly are not going to do this kind of work. Short-form investigative reporting appearing in a daily or weekly publication requires a full-time job.

If newspapers contract their publication to this alone, can they remain economically viable with more or less the same business model as they have now?

Probably not. I suspect that after you throw overboard the columnists, reviewers etc. and their editors, you haven’t shed that much of your payroll. You can cut your overhead some, too: get out of that prestige building, concentrate your desks. Maybe create more pooled positions for expensive reportage (foreign, for example) or buy more from stringers and wire services.

Now you’ve probably lost at least some of your advertisers, who were there for the cultural coverage or the comics pages or something besides the reportage. Probably some of your older customer base is also gone, because that’s all they read too, along with a few of the bleeder-leads in the local news. Maybe you can make some of the lost print advertising revenue back with more extensive online advertising. That works for the top upper wedge of online content providers, so why not daily reportage providers? (The quality of product has to be high, though.)

Let’s suppose you up your subscriber fees considerably, figuring that your remaining audience of educated readers is willing to pay for high-quality information. Can you make up the difference in lost revenues to make your slimmer, leaner payroll and overhead?

Probably not, but I’ll bet the difference is in sight at this point. So how to cross the gap? I think with some kind of philanthropic or foundation funding–what we maybe need is an umbrella organization that produces pool reportage with heavy foundation support, an independent endowment, etc., from which daily news outlets buy their content, which provides a revenue stream back to the organization that produces the reportage. Rather than an editorial staff who prunes the reportage produced to a single voice or standard, the goal would be to support multiple reporters working on the same issues whose filed stories could be mixed-and-matched by a news portal or end publication–so we might get a front page of a daily newspaper that would have three bylines on the Obama stimulus package, each the product of a different reporter’s investigative work, if the stories were interesting or well-developed enough.

The end of the newspaper model of the last century doesn’t have to be the end of independent investigative reporting. Arguably it might be the beginning of a much better form for it. But I agree that online media as they stand can’t substitute for that vital practice, can’t make up the difference spontaneously, can’t automatically fill in the gap that newspapers will leave as they sink beneath the waves.

Textbook Costs

Thursday, February 12th, 2009

Lots of cross-blog talk on this subject at the moment: why are textbooks so expensive?

The answer is mostly that it’s a racket with some resemblance to some of the weird pricing that happens inside the health care system. The general cost of health care to individuals, for example, may basically correspond to a one-by-one breakdown of what the overall costs of health care across a whole society. But look over any given bill you receive for medical care and the itemized breakdowns tend to become more surreal the more granular they are, where items that you could purchase outside of medical care are billed to you at many times their normal purchase price.

What’s happening in part is that the price of other things not on your bill is being off-loaded onto those items: the labor costs of doctors, nurses, administrators, pharmacists, custodial staff, and so on. The costs of uninsured care in that same facility is being added into your prices. The costs of insured care which is absurdly expensive to run or prescribe for you or for others are being broken down a bit and blended into other items. The total pharmaceutical costs of a hospital or facility are being averaged over all the drugs prescribed. And so on. In the end this works in part because it’s usually not about a payment made directly by the user of health care but a payment from an insurer to a health care provider. The breakdowns are a kind of surreal peek inside a black-box process. You don’t have much choice about any of it, including usually whether or not to seek health care in the first place.

Textbooks are way less defensible in these terms because they’re a much more direct relationship between teaching faculty, their colleagues who publish textbooks in a given field, and the publishers. But much as in the case of health care, a student generally doesn’t have any choice, and that’s more or less the root reason why a single textbook can cost over $150.00: because the publisher can charge that and expect that a captive market will have to pay.

It’s only when you ask why faculty in many fields don’t just do without textbooks that you realize a bit of what that price is standing in for. (I’ve never used a conventional textbook, and I’d say that’s generally true in a lot of humanities courses.) Compiling a series of reliable and clear readings on the full range of topics covered in a survey course is hard. If you had to write them all yourself, that would be an enormous undertaking. If you’re also putting together problem sets which you intend to use for grading purposes, that’s harder still, because not only do you have to compose those problem sets, you have to change them, or have a very large group of them from which to draw every year. Making up your own textbook, if your pedagogy needs to be based around one, would be a tremendous amount of labor well above and beyond your ordinary responsibilities as a teacher or researcher.

So most faculty who use textbooks, if they even dream of writing one themselves, understandably want to be compensated if they do. If you have no ambition to write one yourself, you’re probably willing to see colleagues compensated for doing that work for you. When you hear what the price tag for a textbook is, then what? The only way to opt out of that market is to make your own textbook, seemingly. And so we’re back to wanting to be compensated. Who will publish your much-cheaper textbook that you’ve written in order to save students money, and still have the money to advertise and market that textbook?

The answer I think lies in something like Wikibooks open-content textbook projects. The history ones are mostly really bad so far, the science ones seem very slim and weak as well. There isn’t much yet at Flat World Knowledge, either. I’m totally willing to correct a Wikipedia entry from time to time, but writing a whole history textbook (especially considering that I don’t use history textbooks or think they’re very useful) is way beyond anything I’m interested in doing for free on behalf of other people. A whole textbook written by one hundred or two hundred experts in small bits and pieces is usually going to be a total dog’s breakfast, hard to read and hard to teach from.

Doubtless a lot of professors feel the same way. I think if cheap, relatively open textbooks are going to take off, it’s going to take somebody somewhere putting at least some money into the project. One possibility? A big consortium of universities and colleges, where they could compensate authors through stipends or modest salary increases while doing a lot of make the cost of instruction to students considerably less.