Previously on the HE and R Bill… – I’ve been following progress with considerable interest, but the wonkhe.com coverage has been so good that I’ve not felt inclined to write anything here. The text of the bill passed through the House of Commons without any changes, despite significant issues with both the drafting and the underlying policy. After some feisty exchanges in the Lords the bill has been substantially altered, both by the government and – on six occasions so far – by others. A small government majority in the commons means that these could be overturned again during “ping-pong” (the adorably named process by which the commons and lords come to agreement via conflicting votes and all-night sittings). But this is neither the most urgent or most visible legislative matter the government are trying to manage….
As the House of Lords spend another afternoon going through the motions, it is interesting to consider our own Higher Education and Research Bill alongside the wider work of the upper legislative chamber as we speed towards the Easter recess.
As I’ve hinted in previous weeks on Twitter I’ve got a theory that pressures on parliamentary time will prove to be a defining factor in the shape of the future Act. If peers are together in continuing to block key aspects we need to ask how willing the government are to spend the time needed to push through their own vision, and to throw the various opposition and cross-bench amendments – if they don’t cut the mustard – out.
Since the Commons stages – where, lest we forget, not one single amendment was made to the text of the bill – we have seen significant government climb-downs and alterations. Pressure from peers is beginning to realise the kind of government rethink that was asked for in the commons committee and third reading. No longer under the spell of Jo Johnson’s draftsmen, we can never tell quite where the line will be drawn as regards what initially appeared to be essential parts of the policy framework.
At this point one has to step back and consider what it is that the Bill is actually trying to do, and why. Which – in all honesty – is surprisingly little. Some regulatory changes, based more on a wish to remove HEFCE and tidy up a powerpoint slide than any new possibilities offered? Changes to sector entry and exit tickets – and of course the TEF! – as yet another attempt to make HE work like a market? In many arguments, most notably those made in independent HE, this is sold as a revolutionary policy package – but after this is complete will the sector honestly get to rest in peace for a few years?
As the the dawn of prorogation approaches, there may be cause to for the government to lament this lack of vision. The Higher Education and Research Bill is just one of many bills the Government are shepherding through the Lords at the moment, and may not be what they feel is the most pressing legislative issue currently standing.
The Criminal Finances Bill, for example awaits further committee sessions, and a report. The Third Reading of the Digital Economy Bill on 29th March may not run sweetly. Bills exist around Lords Reform that could become more important to the government after recent “rebellions” – votes on the HE Bill have been just one part of a series of votes that have left Lords walking closer to the fire. Following issues around business rates in the budget, Sajid Javid’s Local Government Finance Bill could be resurrected and forced through before May – his Neighbourhood Planning Bill (with a third reading this week in the Lords) could be equally controversial. A Prisons and Courts Bill is currently in the Commons but could be progressed with haste if the increasingly clear problems in that system continue to make headlines. Closer to home the Technical and Further Education Bill has a committee report in the Lords at the end of March. All this alongside numerous debates, committee reports and other parliamentary business.
And, of course the European Union (Notification of Withdrawal) Bill. This, more than anything, is the clear government priority currently. Amendments in the Lords gave a lot of people something to sing about last week but when “ping-pong” beings – and may be seen on both Monday and perhaps Wednesday as interventions throughout the HE Bill report – no-one can be sure at what point consensus will be realised. Lords will be keen to demonstrate their value as scrutineers in a de-politicised second chamber on this one-in-a-generation constitutional issue, but will be anxious not to be seen as defying the will of the people. It’s a difficult line to walk.
If that bill is delayed – or if other means are found to delay the Prime Minister’s Brexit timetable – this could mean further work for peers. Couple this with an already packed last 25 or so days of sitting (we don’t know for sure exactly how long, but this is a best guess) and something will have to give.
If that something is the HE Bill (either losing it entirely, or mollifying the Lords with even more substantial amendments than were introduced before the report stage) then where do we go from here? It would be an ignominious coda to Johnson’s first substantial legislation, and a sorry end to a project that was perhaps more concerned with messaging and effect than genuine regulatory improvement.
Honestly, if Daniel Hannan can – with a straight face – compare Brexit to the Lord of the Rings I see no reason why I can’t compare the HE Bill to an episode of Buffy…
Like many people I’m disappointed by UC Berkeley’s decision to remove a range of “legacy” openly licensed online resources from public access YouTube and iTunes U, linked to from their webcast.berkeley.edu portal. This represents 20,000 audio or video recordings of lectures from between 2004-2015, which will be moved behind an institutional sign-in. And in particular I feel that comments like “Finally, moving our content behind authentication allows us to better protect instructor intellectual property from ‘pirates’ who have reused content for personal profit without consent” are a very bad look, no matter what the context.
Lecture recordings from on-campus provision are generally not great in quality or educational utility unless they have been specifically packaged for online/remote consumption. This process would likely involve exactly the kind of accommodations that are rightly required under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) – at the very least transcription, and the deliberate use of teaching methods and resources suitable for remote learning. And consumer channels like YouTube and iTunes are hardly the best means of distributing a full package of learning materials. I should emphasise that this is good practice for supporting all learners.
A further issue with lecture capture is the likely use of copyrighted material within slides – for a “mass” operation like the one at Berkeley these are notoriously hard to police and check from recordings – as the slides were never provided alongside the recordings (a practice that would have gone at least some way towards addressing the ADA issue) even basic tools like reverse image search were unavailable.
The issue was brought to the attention of Berkeley and the Department of Justice by the National Association of the Deaf. A review of the case found that the complaint was a legitimate one, and that Berkeley (as a public body) were not meeting the requirements of the Americans With Disabilities Act, Title II.
Since 2015 Berkeley had already stopped posting new lecture recordings on the publicly available channels – this, coupled with the bizarre statement on piracy (how was the university losing money? why were they not enforcing the BY-NC-ND license they had chosen?) leads me to have a reasonable suspicion that the ADA judgement is just useful justification for a decision that had already been made.
However, Berkeley will continue to offer lecture capture as a service to enrolled students, and will to continue to share material via their EdX imprint, BerkeleyX – noting in the statement regarding the withdrawal of the legacy content that: “Berkeley will maintain its commitment to sharing content to the public through our partnership with EdX (edx.org). This free and accessible content includes a wide range of educational opportunities and topics from across higher ed.”
EdX, of course, famously had their own run in with ADA back in 2015. Despite claiming that they were not subject to ADA as they were not offering a “public accommodation” (and hell, deaf people hardly buy any certificates of completion…) the DoJ required that they sign an agreement to provide accessible accommodations. Note that they claim that this does not extend to course content, but the DoJ disagrees.
Current UC Berkley offerings on EdX do not meet ADA requirements. Though a decent transcript is offered, and this is downloadable, neither audio or text-to-speech versions of figures presented during videos are available. The example below is from the first video I encountered on “GG101x: The Science of Happiness“.
The table in the screen grab above (which I am claiming as “fair use”) is taken, unattributed (other than in the well-hidden Course Bibliography rendered in that legendarily accessible file format the PDF!) from Uchida, Y., & Ogihara, Y. (2012). Personal or interpersonal construal of happiness: A cultural psychological perspective. International Journal of Wellbeing, 2(4), 354-369. doi:10.5502/ijw.v2.i4.5 . The IJW make all articles available under an CC-BY-NC-ND license … a license that the legal team at Berkeley presumably know well 🙂
So at least one of Berkeley’s offerings on EdX does not meet the ADA requirements that EdX were required to meet, and also uses openly licensed content in breach of licensing terms (the attribution did not meet expected best practice, EdX is arguably a commercial concern and a derivative work was used). Apparently “UC Berkeley […] content has been discovered on for-profit websites, which use either a subscription fee or on-page advertising.” so I’m super glad I didn’t pay for that certificate…
For those interested in the legal background to the Berkeley decision, you could do worse than to read up on the way the 2015 EdX ruling offered notice that a website hosting learning content could be seen as a “place of education” for ADA/s502 purposes. I enjoyed this article from Cooley LLP and you might too.
And for those interested in the amazing history of this open education initiative at Berkeley, Audrey has you covered.
I was asked to offer some perspective on the wider idea of edtech – what follows covers investment management, theories of learning, education reform politics, innovation theory and around 80 years of history. Some may be surprised at the scope – I would argue that it is not enough to understand how, to truly make an intelligent decision we need to at least consider why.
I should note that I was asked to give a personal and idiosyncratic view, so just to be absolutely clear these are my own opinions only.
As an investment category, defined perhaps by the breathless coverage of EdSurge and TechCrunch, EdTech is old news. The last boom years, such as they were, largely sit between 2012 and 2015, with the latter year seeing $18bn of investment attracted into the sector. Those with longer memories may recall a similar bear market at the turn of the century, aligned to the wider “dot com” boom. (and fans of TechCrunch may be interested to learn of the FinTech boom that immediately followed it)
The boundaries of the category are variously drawn, but generally encompass teaching and administrative adoption of technology and infrastructure. There is a smaller, but separate, market segment encompassing research technology with links to commercial R&D, cloud storage and big data analytics and metrics (which you could trace back, if you wanted, to ISI). Academic research infrastructure and support in itself is too small a market to consider separately for most mainstream investors – and is primarily supported by government funding.
Investors of the sort that cover EdTech are operating with a high appetite for risk, and will expect a low number of their investments to offer significant returns. This plays into the fail-fast ethos in wider Silicon Valley, but tends to favour vivid ideas rather than well-considered interventions, and incremental innovation rather than revolutionary ideas (which would have a longer-term return). Very few “EdTechs” are actually making a return on their investments, a scant few (online course provider Udacity, for instance) are even turning a working profit. The model for funders is to grow mindshare and a user base, before being acquired by a larger tech company (Google, Microsoft, Blackboard…) – again, as in wider Silicon Valley.
As a historic project, your modern edtech (in the sense of mechanical or digital aids to the process of education) sits very much on a line drawing from a behaviourist (Skinnerian) model of learning. Drawing on ideas of repetition and reward, it underpins drill-and-kill learning tools such as Duolingo, and many test preparation or content delivery packages.
A later strand drawing on constructivist and social constructivist theories of learning (Durkheim, Illich, Papert through perhaps to someone like George Siemens) emphasised the agency of the learner to make sense of the world around them, drawing on networks of peers. The rise of social media around 2008 spurred the development of “connectivism”, a postulated theory concerning the way networks comprising human and non-human members interact, grow and learn (rhizomatically).
Cognitive learning theories (Piaget, also Badderly, Chomsky) are the basis of the “personalisation” agenda wherein technology can “adapt” within bounded states to suit individual learner needs – much of what is described as “AI” in learning, and indeed many of the models of learning that define AI research – are cognitivist.
And outside of learning theories all together, you have the same drives around efficient management of information that define the wider tech-boom. Administrative technology also has the advantage that the burden of proof is seldom asked for – access to information is an axiomic good.
You could connect these trends together to explain something like the MOOC, which started with an explicitly connectivist underpinning but pivoted quickly (with the pressure of growth and massification) to a behaviourist model, though with a cognitive science gloss via the collection and use of administrative user data.
Part of the leverage that the field has on education policy makers comes from the wider narrative of Education Reform. Joining parents and educators with genuine concerns about the quality of education with investors and politicians looking to improve the profitability of education, this narrative – which I love to characterise as “Education is broken” – underpins many of the machinery of education (Charter school, free school, challenger institutions…) changes that open up education to “disruptive innovation”.
Harvard Business Administration researcher Clayton Christensen first postulated that idea of disruption, and he applied it to education in his 2008 book ‘Disrupting Class‘. Simply put, the concept of low-end disruptive innovation suggests that any established market can be destabilised by the entry of a new actor offering a similar but inferior product at a vastly lower price. This new actor initially serves a niche interest and does not provide the features of premium products in the marketplace but through repeated innovation it expands and improves to serve wider needs and increases profitability.
However, this theory has been debunked specifically within education (by none less than Christiansen himself in 2013), and more generally as a fundamental narrative of innovation (Jill Lapore in 2014 is flat-out superb). As attractive as the idea of low cost innovation may be to investors, it has not and does not explain innovation as it actually happens.
Entrepreneurial state theory – as described by Mariana Mazzucato in her book of the same name, sees a role for the long term, stable nature of state funding in supporting and developing innovation. An example would be the support in defence spending for early cybernetics projects that became VR, networked communication, responsive software (and also pigeon-guided bombs – courtesy of one BF Skinner… but not every experiment is a success…) and underpin much of what became Edtech.
There are people better qualified than me to talk about theories of innovation, but I will content myself to mentioning Von Hippell’s lead user theory – broadly watching the working practices of expert practitioners, identifying where existing processes or technologies are shortcutted, then working with practitioners to design tools to simplify these short-cuts.
So what is “an EdTech”? Despite overweening claims around innovation, the easiest way is to characterise their intended mechanism. An EdTech uses one or more of the three educational theories above (either knowingly or, more commonly, implicitly) to either sell into existing education providers, or to attempt to disrupt these providers by establishing alternate providers and selling to learners. As hype around the central category has grown, more generally applicable administrative interventions have been branded as edtech.
Actual sales (in terms of money being exchanged for goods or services) are rare, as the focus is on growing a user-base and associated hype in order to be acquired by a larger enterprise. (This is just mainstream Silicon Valley business practice).
But do “EdTechs” improve education? It is difficult to say. Certainly to read the press releases that have flooded the inboxes of education or technology journalists – very few cover both, so it has been possible to exploit gaps in knowledge (see Audrey Watters “What every techie should know about education“) – would indicate that we now live in a golden age of cheap, ubiquitous, personalised and effective learning. And yet.
Certainly the things that do improve education as a wider are often far removed from the mythologised moment of learning – administrative system interoperability, open licensing for academic content – solving, in other words, known problems as reported by expert practitioners.
We agitate for the maintenance of the great lasting structures of government – for the rule of law and the authority of judges, for parliamentary procedure and the letter of statute, for the smooth reassuring functionality of legislative and constitutional bodies long since atrophied through disuse. We call for rational military collaboration, streamlined and open international trade, the unimpeded free movement of people. For the slow iterative progress of science and philosophy.
We support free speech, but within sensible limits. We support free expression, but balance this against a right not to be offended. We uphold the democratic will of the public, but measure it against the sage counsel of the technocrats and the learned.
We do this, because the world is in the throes – at last! – of popular revolution led ostensibly by the workers but fermented by a new breed of public intellectual. And we – the revolutionary left – find ourselves on the side of the establishment.
Sooner or later someone’s going to catch the imagination of these people with some new magic. At the bottom of it will be a promise of regaining the feeling of participation, the feeling of being needed on earth—hell, dignity.
Because everyone is listing and capsule reviewing books that they’ve read, this is a few that stuck in the mind this year. Be warned, there are a lot, and the list is incomplete.
The Polygamist King: A True Story of Murder, Lust, and Exotic Faith in America – John J. Miller
Very short (kindle single) thing – just wanted to read more about the Strangites after researching a post about Mormons and leadership.
… In Defence of Politics Sir Bernard Crick
Recommendation via Helen Beetham. One of those plain, smart, books that makes you rethink your radical stances. Now I have the tools to defend the political mainstream, should I need to.
… Player Piano Kurt Vonnegut
Vonnegut’s first (I think) novel. Human dignity after automation, a surprisingly modern theme that bled well into the Trump/Brexit WTF themes of 2016.
… What a Carve Up! Jonathan Coe
… Number 11 Jonathan Coe
Number 11 was the new Coe, and a purported sequel to What a Carve Up – which is the better book if you like your grotesque political satires.
… So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed Jon Ronson
Interesting, but kept hoping for him to draw parallels before the internet age (tabloid hits to courtly gossip) that he never did. Public shaming is one of civilisation’s great control mechanisms – dealing with it as a modern phenomenon is hardly scratching the surface. Also reminded me that I wanted to re-read “The Scarlet Letter”, which I have yet to.
… Brexit: What the Hell Happens Now?: Everything You Need to Know about Britain’s Divorce from Europe Ian Dunt
Quite. A succinct, yet terrifying, summary. Emboldened me that brexit may not be a thing that actually happens.
… A Gentle Introduction to Unqualified Reservations Mencius Moldbug
A bunch of Moldbug (from *that* research). Still washing the stink out of my brain.
… Everything Belongs to the Future Laurie Penny
Slight. Ultimately disappointing – which was a shame as I loved her writing on the alt-right this year.
… The Elephant in the Room: A Journey into the Trump Campaign and the “Alt-Right” Jon Ronson
Another Kindle single – which I picked up because I felt sure that Ronson (or Theroux) must have interviewed Trump during the late 80s-90s “wilderness years”. They didn’t, but this was as close as I could find.
… Literature Against Criticism: University English and Contemporary Fiction in Conflict Martin Paul Eve
I’d long suspected that literary studies (as mainstream subject of undergraduate study) would have an influence on literature. And Martin Eve got to the bottom it far better than I could. Following @CowEyePress on twitter alongside reading this was illustrative – and I’d love to introduce the pair somehow (if one of them wasn’t a partially fictional construct).
… City Clifford D. Simak
Cogdog recommendation. A post-human civilisation led by dogs. I loved it for the sense of hope. Looking back, an interesting parallel read to “Player Piano”.
… Catch-22 Joseph Heller
… Voodoo Histories: How Conspiracy Theory Has Shaped Modern History David Aaronovitch
Also because 2016. As conspiracies hit the mainstream I felt I owed it to myself to understand how they worked. It didn’t help, but at least I know now.
… Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow Yuval Noah Harari
Loved this – dataism as a post-human religion and (at last!) a proper definition of liberal humanism. There’s not many futurists I enjoy (Bryan Alexander and Martin Hamilton as obvious exceptions if they read this!) but will look out for other Harari work. I need to pick back up his ideas on animals.
… Judas Unchained (Commonwealth Saga Book 2) Peter F. Hamilton
Every camping holiday needs a stomping great space-opera saga – this was nicely done.
… Station Eleven Emily St. John Mandel
Post-apocalyptic touring orchestra and chorus visits an airport community in the ruins of Canada. Some lovely, affecting, touches.
… Normal Warren Ellis
How can I resist a rest-home for burnt out futurists? Story was a bit meh, but the world-building was excellent.
… Seveneves Neal Stephenson
Story was a bit meh, but the world building was excellent (x1000). One of the things that made me want to read about Mormons in 2016, as another example of a fully documented creation mythos.
… The Best of All Possible Worlds Karen Lord
This one got mixed up with “Seveneves” in my head, and lost out to a better described multi-species human future.
… The Water Knife Paolo Bacigalupi0
Recommendation from (I think) Pat Lockley. Nicely realised near-future, with a great story. Another reminder that our future may be to be led by gangsters.
… Stoner: A Novel John Williams
Token campus novel – I think everyone read it this year. If you haven’t, you should.
… Password Martin Paul Eve
I should admit that I’d read pretty much most things that Martin writes.
… Nothing is True and Everything is Possible: Adventures in Modern Russia Peter Pomerantsev
Properly loved this. Russia is another key to understanding the modern world, and I keep going back to this collection of insights from Russian scripted reality television. I’ve a feeling Adam Curtis read this too.
… Snow Crash Neal Stephenson
Everyone kept referring to this. Another Neal Stephenson book – great world-building, meh storytelling.
… Neptune’s Brood Charles Stross
If you only read one post-human thriller about forensic accountancy and robot religion: make it this one.
… The Nightmare Stacks: A Laundry Files novel Charles Stross
The new one.
… Just Say No: The Spectator On The 1975 Referendum The Spectator
Because I wanted to understand Vote Leave from a historical perspective.
… Nod Adrian Barnes
Most people forget how to sleep. The collapse of civilisation ensues. In Canada. I guess I just love books set in Canada.
… Orfeo Richard Powers
The digressions about biological warfare were less interesting than the digressions about C20th classical composition. But the digressions about C20th classical composition were amazing.
… Red Plenty Francis Spufford
Series of short stories about soviet Russia and cybernetics. Again, stuff about Russia.
… The Man Who Wouldn’t Stand Up Jacob M. Appel
Kind of (on reflection) a companion piece to “So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed”
… Look Who’s Back Timur Vermes
2016 was the year that Godwin’s law was repealed. This is a translation of the hugely successful German satire on the return of you-know-who.
… Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy Joseph A. Schumpter
Austrian school LOLs.
… Flat Earth News: An Award-winning Reporter Exposes Falsehood, Distortion and Propaganda in the Global Media Nick Davies
Was expecting great things from this, but didn’t really tell me anything I didn’t know about the death of journalism.
… The Trial Franz Kafka
An insight into my own personal 2016.
… Superforecasting: The Art and Science of Prediction Philip Tetlock
A fair few books about prediction this year. None of them really matched up to Nate Silver – see below.
… Shoeless Joe W. P. Kinsella
The book that inspired “Field of Dreams”, which got stuck in my head early this year. It was an excellent read and I would recommend it.
Respect: The Life of Aretha Franklin
That rare beast – a biography by someone who loved their subject but was not blind to their flaws.
… The Silo Effect: Why putting everything in its place isn’t such a bright idea Gillian Tett
Read it. Didn’t help me understand why people worry about silos so much.
… Frank Zappa: The Complete Guide to his Music Ben Watson
… Zappa The Hard Way Andrew Greenaway
Somewhere in my head there is a post about Zappa’s 88 tour band and parallels to both Trump and contemporary academia. It’ll happen one day. This was source material (the Ben Watson should be “The Negative Dialectics of Poodle Play”, but no-one should read this more than once…)
… Broken Vows: Tony Blair The Tragedy of Power Tom Bower
Can’t remember why I read this – probably looking for more stuff about Michael Barber. Wasn’t any.
… Fooled by Randomness: The Hidden Role of Chance in Life and in the Markets Nassim Nicholas Taleb
… The Signal and the Noise: The Art and Science of Prediction Nate Silver
Two more books about prediction – both of which I would want to go back to. Taleb’s authorial voice annoys me – couldn’t get through “Black Swan” for instance – but this was readable.
… Cryptocurrency: How Bitcoin and Digital Money are Challenging the Global Economic Order Paul Vigna
… Bitcoin: The Future of Money? Dominic Frisby
Because this year we all learned about Blockchain. Either of these would have done admirably.
The Origins of Higher Learning: knowledge networks and the early development of universities Roy Lowe, Yoshihito Yasuhara
A history of higher education that is clear that higher learning is globalised by nature. Great to move me from my early European HE history fixation.
… Boomerang: The Meltdown Tour Michael Lewis
One of my favourite financial journalists on the global, personal impact of the 2008 financial crash. The stories about Iceland particularly stuck in my head.
… The Working Life: The Promise and Betrayal of Modern Work Joanne B. Ciulla
“Timely” is the word that comes to mind. Would have liked more on “the history of the future of work” (sounds like an Audrey Watters post!)
… Taking Our Country Back: The Crafting of Networked Politics from Howard Dean to Barack Obama Daniel Kreiss
Really liked this on modern political campaigning. I think this was a rewritten PhD.
… The Myth of the Rational Voter: Why Democracies Choose Bad Policies Bryan Caplan
He didn’t know either.
… Ready Player One Ernest Cline
The novelisation of an imaginary John Hughes film from a story by Mike Judge. Recommened by both my son and Bryan Alexander.
… Dangerous Medicine: Problems with assuring quality and standards in UK higher education Paul Greatrix
… Debt: The First 5,000 Years David Graeber
Want to go back to this one too. The parallels between societal organisational structures, religion, learning… and, of course, the idea of debt.
A purported romance novel, Carrie Fisher’s “Surrender the Pink” is both smarter and bleaker than you may expect. As you would expect, the writing is taut and bitterly funny – as you wouldn’t expect the central message is one of love without hope and of giving up on all of your dreams.
As Fisher was a woman, her fiction is always seen and reviewed through an autobiographical lens – “Surrender the Pink” being canonically The One About Being Married To Paul Simon. Quite why anyone would assume that anything a smart, inventive woman writes is somehow only about her (and her in relationship to a man, at that…) can be left perhaps as an exercise for the reader.
And the reader does get a lot of exercise. The writing is manic and “bitty” – in the sense of feeling a little like a compendium of pre-imagined bits, fragments of a (blistering) stand-up routine as the inner lives of Dinah Kaufman, soap-opera treatment writer and inveterate self-analyst. You need to pay attention to the many coded layers – of parody, irony, reference and wordplay – in order to follow what is a fairly slight but powerful tale of love (whatever that may be) lost (whatever that means).
A central conceit neatly upends that “women’s writing as autobiography” cliché – the central relationship of the book is paralleled as the central relationship of the (perfectly awful) daytime TV drama called “Heart’s Desire”. The book ends with Dinah enjoying a no-strings affair with the actor who plays the proxy-of-her-ex-husband character, whilst the assumed knight in shining armour (from a narrative perspective, at least) arrives late, irrelevant and useless. The only possible happy ending is Dinah’s constant worries about relationships becoming a background theme to her life, rather than a dominant melody – dialling her feelings down to a dull roar, as she puts it. Or it could be read as a retreat from messy reality to neat fiction. Or the realisation that everything that she wanted was unimportant. Or unattainable. Or both.
Fisher likes to land highbrow references, and parallels, as a further layer within the circularity of ideas. It makes the point that we play out, in relationships of whatever sort, the tropes and archetypes of fiction – emphasising the supreme power of lived fiction to shape reality. And in the same breath, shows the weakness of fictional devices – highbrow and lowbrow alike – in analysing interpersonal interaction.
Arguing about relationships between men and women from what amounts to a post-feminist position, Fisher’s carefully constructed similes and allusions can be read as arcane knowledge – arcane in the purest sense as of being useless to her protagonist. Dinah is able to contain multitudes (indeed, literally – her moods, Pam and Roy, separated and understood as both being necessary) and contradictions in ways that fictional characters are generally not subject to.
If the book has a weakness, it is the power of Fisher’s writing – her quick, wordy humour overwhelms on occasion the voices of individual characters, making it difficult care too much for anyone but Dinah – and to swallow enough exasperation to care much about Dinah. There’s an anti-Emma-esque quality to her dogged insistence to fail to make sense, in fascinating ways, of the lives and relationships of herself and others.
Post-truth in the truest way, the book speaks of places where truth fears to tread – and of the horror of being someone’s “black swan from hell”. It’s something I have re-read often, for reasons I’m grateful for even if I’m not sure I entirely understand them myself.
… came from the East Coast. I never though I’d end 2016 writing about the assassination of a presidential candidate and church governance in mid c19th America, but – I guess – 2016.
So that Helen Beetham (her newish blog linked there, add it to your RSS reader straight away) asked me what the deal was with the Evangelical Right and Trump. So I went and read some stuff about how some of them feel about it, and tried to make sense of how someone from such a background could get to the position of voting for him.
But then it occurred to me that most of the Abrahamic religions do have an element of waiting for a King about them, or wanting to go back to having Kings again (1 Samuel 8, for example) – so perhaps there may be a religious cross-over between neo-reactionism and religion? And I found a couple of posts taking about “taking the bread pill” (even the terrifying extreme edges of the church still love dad puns). That link there is to a pretty serious racial nationalist movement, from what I can tell. So be warned.
But this seems more like a fringe curio – even though Moldbug’s use of secular Presbyterianism as a proxy for a motivating force for the American establishment does kind of build the scaffold from the other side a little (and many Holy books do lay down a pretty solid base for racism and misogyny if you read them wrong).
“What is to be done? Who of all these parties are right; or, are they all wrong together? If any one of them be right, which is it, and how shall I know it?”
I’ve been reading a lot about the early latter day saints as a path into trying to understand governance, publication and power in America. Almost uniquely amongst major strands of religion, the followers of Joseph Smith left a great deal of documentation concerning corporate structure and legalities stemming from the organisation of the nascent Church and the separation (or otherwise, let’s not forget Joseph Smith’s 1844 presidential candidacy) of Church and state.
Smith was – of course – assassinated in Nauvoo, Illinois not long after he declared his candidacy, which on a decidedly non-theocratic platform that included radical prison reform, an end to slavery, small government, Native American rights, the establishment of a central bank and the possible annexation of Texas and Canada. In a presidential race that reflected the growing controversies around what became known as Manifest Destiny and the Slave Question these were populist liberal (small-l) views presented in order to make a concerted reach for power, and emphasised Smith’s conventionality as a candidate.
The back story, of course, is a little more complex: Smith, as Mayor (or “General”) of Nauvoo sought redress for the treatment of his people in Zion, Missouri. As no other presidential candidate appeared to be willing to promise support for the Mormon people the decision was made that he would run for office.
Post-assassination (as the culmination of a hugely complex story involving the restriction of press freedom) the Mormon people sought new leadership (and possibly prophecy) from the established structures of the Church.
Over a period of month, three major claims to leadership were made – underpinned by three ideas of the nature of governance that are what I am aiming (600 words in!) to mainly talk about.
Sidney Rigdon was the most senior remaining Church official after Smith and his Deputy were murdered at Carthage Jail
Brigham Young could be seen as first-amongst-equals within a Council of Twelve – overlapping in personnel with various other bodies as senior advisors, counsel, and administrators working on behalf of Smith.
And James Strang‘s claim was made on the basis of spiritual revelation, a continuance of the direct prophetic tradition.
So we have hierarchy, consensus and ideology as three motivating principles for organisational decision making (which really would be a better plot for a musical…). And, as each candidate took a part of the Church with them, we can almost see how the logic of each plays out over time.
The Rigdonites headed east to Pennsylvania, but their alternate church did not last, sustaining through later years via claims of continued prophecy rather than hierarchy. The Church of Jesus Christ (Bickertonite) is the surviving remnant of this strand, taking an informal name from a former Rigdonite – William Bickerton – who reorganised the Church and formalised the doctrinal split with the mainstream Latter Day Saints. (For rock trivia fans, 70s shock-rocker Alice Cooper was brought up as a Bickertonite.)
The Strangites headed north-east, to Michigan. Adherents were energised by a string of revelations and newly discovered scripture, and the group settled on Beaver Island in Lake Michigan. Strang saw his position as king rather than president, though his hyper-localised theocratic monarchy did not prevent him from sitting in the Michigan House of Representatives and founding Manitou County. The increasing commercial importance of trade in the area, and Strang’s increasingly alarming diktats (including forced conversion for all island residents and the perennially popular stipulations about the nature of ladies’ bloomers) led to his assassination by two lapsed (escaped?) church members. Strangites do still exist in two factions, though numbers are small and no presence remains on Beaver Island.
The majority of Smith’s followers went with Brigham Young to what became Salt Lake City, Utah, and this branch constitutes the majority of Mormons we know today. The church grew and flourished under Young’s organisational skill and management.
So – “Kings bad (with a tendency to despotism), Hierarchy ineffective, Consensus good” is one secular lesson that could be gleaned here. Getting things done in any walk of life involves organising, motivating and managing people and it turns out that Mormons are pretty good at that even by worldly standards.
In numerous pieces about his faith written throughout his career, Clayton Christensen comes back to the idea of “state-of-the-art” Christianity. He expresses the restoration of the gospel by Joseph Smith as an example of “The Lord’s disruptive technology“. But it could also be argued that it was continuation and consensus, not disruption, that led to the success of the church.
Which is perhaps a lesson our national leaders may wish to take to heart.
This – incredibly – is only one of the blog posts I currently have on the boil that touches on the Church of Jesus Christ and the Latter Day Saints, though this one is – I think – merely a coincidence.
Like nearly the entire western world I’ve been thinking about fake news and the negotiation of constructed realities as performed online, and like maybe 40-50 smelly edtech hippies I’ve been wondering how to apply what I learned from #ds106 to this now rather pressing problem.
But then – via Cogdog-style happenstance – and prompted partially by the man-dog himself’s recent and intriguing post on a “Networked Narratives” course he is running with Mia Zamora for no other reason than it needs to be done (I hope to be there) – I got into a bad-old-days-of-blogging nostalgia-fest and in looking up whether anyone had re-invented Google Reader yet. I’m on inoreader at the moment, since you ask.
Whilst meandering, I stumbled across the term “bloggernacle” – which, well, I’d use anything called “bloggernacle” and I think I speak for us all in saying that. Turns out that there is a huge Mormon blogging scene. Open education folks will know that that LDS (Latter Day Saints, which I understand is the more accurate way to describe people of that faith) and OER are intertwined in various wonderful ways, so I was mildy interested to see whether online activities of the two shared a common source. Instead I found a link to something altogether more #ds106-ian.
In mid-2005 several prominent LDS bloggers put together a group blog (called “Banner of Heaven”) based around a bunch of invented characters. The idea was primarily to “to explore the potential of blogging as a story-telling form”, with subsidiary goals of reflecting back what they perceived as the primary concerns of LDS blogging at the time. This link is to what you might call the learning objectives of the exercise – read it. (most of this post comes from a 2010 “behind the music” style retrospective by one of the original authors on By Common Consent. It was only at this point that the original text was made public.)
They came up with six characters:
SeptimusH – a shy inactive former missionary, who all too often ends up dealing with dead cows.
MirandaPJ – a feminist from Lewiston, Idaho, who confiscated her husband’s xbox.
JennMailer – a perky but insecure young woman with very traditional views.
Mari Collier – Miranda’s sister, kind and faithful, but with a troubled past.
Aaron B Cox – representing the more combative end of blogging and the more… unique… expression of scriptural fundamentalism
Greg Fox – a non-church member who loved to hang out with the others, but was often disappointed with what he found.
These were both (semi-) realistic positions current in the LDS online milleau at the time, and astutely drawn comic characters in their own right. I’m sure coming from my position 10 years or more on I’m missing a lot of the subtlety – and would never be able to spot the point where the stereotypes were amped up to the point of lunacy and people began to spot that something wasn’t right.
From an educational point of view, this is great stuff. But for an online community in the first flushes of blog enthusiasm, perhaps not so much. Another LDS blog, Nine Moons, did the inevitable expose and the initial comments, from the hip young things the joke was aimed at, are fairly good natured. But by the time they began the “guess the famous blogger” competition things start turning a little more sour, and those outside of the community began to take a view. (Church and Federal) Legal issues were brought up. Senses of a community were lost. Hands – indeed – were wrung. Pearls were clutched.
But reading the comments to some of these posts, ten years on, is uncomfortable. There is a genuine sense of betrayal. People that were accepted as friends are no longer “real”. Ideas of what constituted a part of the lived experience of peers needed to be rexamined.
It’s not hyperbole to say that this “experiment” had a long and lasting effect on the community that was forming around it and other writers.
Here is the interesting part: no one really remembers much about Banner itself; instead, what everyone recalls is the outrage. Either you remember the deceit, or you remember the pound of flesh publicly exacted from the Bannerites. Few of us recall reading Banner or the ideas laid out by the characters. Bannergate has sucked the work dry.
The power of the reaction, the brutality of the analysis, destroying the meaning of the original text.
All of us have the urge to create a new reality online – either explicitly in coming up with something like the saga of Dr Oblivion, or in the work of Helen Keegan; or implicitly, in presenting a version of ourselves that is just plain nicer/funnier/smarter/more interesting than the decaying sack of bones, flesh and Doobie Brothers lyrics that exists in three-dimensional reality.
And when you do create a reality, do you pull away the mask and risk confusion and alienation. Or run the risk of keeping the story going, ending with some of the horror we have seen emerging from known falsehoods in 2016 (this week’s shitshow: pizzagate).
Pizzagate brought home to me that the fake news scare is just digital storytelling gone awry – and gives me the hope that I know some people that may have a handle on what to do next.
Teaching digital storytelling is probably one of the most important things anyone can be doing right now… and for my part (without a role of my own) I want to volunteer to help out those of you who are taking this to the streets.
So, late 2016, we have been presented with a number of unlikely events, but only three that I would previously have described as almost impossible.
Peter Thiel spoke at the RNC in 2016.
Actual, undisguised, racism is a mainstream global political current in 2016.
The worst thing one can possibly be in 2016 is an “expert”.
So, on November 9th, I started reading around these issues. The common current seems to be something called “Neo-reactionism” (NRx), and the prime reference that I kept seeing is a chap delighting in the nom de plume of Mencius Moldbug who kept a blog (“Unqualified Reservations”) during the latter part of the last decade. If you ask questions around the basis of the alt right generally, that blog is where you tend to get pointed. I’m not going to link to it here – no one needs to read that stuff (for clarity, I read the “gentle introduction” multi-post shitshow, the “open letter”, the “Formalist manifesto” and a couple of other posts.) Here’s a (long) 2013 Scott Walker summary of the “gentle introduction” which may suffice.
Another common reference is to someone I’ve been wanting to write about for ages, a former University of Warwick philosopher named Nick Land. Land’s research interests were around cyberculture (the “Cybernetic Culture Research Unit”). This is a useful (again long) 2009 summary by music journalist Simon Reynolds. Since leaving academia his best-known writing is a collection of blog posts entitled “The Dark Enlightenment” (again I’m not linking to a primary source, but I have read the collection).
(If you just want a general overview of Neoreactionism in 2016, this [by Dylan Matthews at Vox] is readable]
So I started to read this stuff.
And I stopped there. Terrified.
Because the last thing I was expecting was that these guys were me. Us. Tonally, structurally – the same tools and tropes I’d use here to talk about education technology or whatever the hell else are used to talk about this…stuff. Moldbug likes to mix quotations from diverse and “forgotten” primary sources with low pop-culture references, “gen x”-style irony and song lyrics. Nick Land… well, I’ll link to this: “Meltdown“, presented at an academic conference in 1994 (this version mixed with video material by his long-term collaborators 0rphan Drift).
If you go to any random “radical education technology” conference – say, perhaps, #opened16 – none of these tropes would seem out of place. After I’d stopped being shocked, I started wondering why I was shocked. After all, these are people:
that have been in and around the internet and cyberculture since at least the late 90s.
that have hung out and argued in online political discussions similar to the ones I hung out in.
that think and write about technology and how it affects culture, and vice versa.
They are us. They are us.
But it’s OK, right, because I’m now going to tell you all of the monstrous stuff they believe that we obviously don’t. Right?
So, in NRx, the worst things in the world, the causes of all of our problems as a global society, are universities and media organisations. Universities, in particular, have a huge amount of power and influence – which is used to shape the very political direction of civilisation. Which is always to the left. The famous quote is “Cthulu only swims left”. The less-famous idea is that the left (read “progressives”, “the establishment”, the two are used interchangeably within a grand idea of “the Cathedral” (not the one near the bazaar)) deals with enemies to the political right swiftly and without mercy, but with enemies to the left with tolerance and grace.
So it’s fine to be an academic marxist, but if you wanted to be an academic conservative you’d be out on your ear.
[Actually, I should add that one surprising weakness in Moldbug (other than the obvious massive racism and such) is his treatment of Conservatism as a political movement. To him, Conservatism is just the progressive ideas of about 20-50 years ago, an attempt merely to stop the march of progress rather than propose anything new. This utterly ignores the corporatist, or “neoliberal” if you must, trend on the modern right, and makes it easier for him to situate his own critique within a third tradition that includes Mises and the whole Austrian School of Economics – more on that to come, economics fans!]
And that, followers, is the big secret. Because the alt-right are obsessed with crappy Matrix references, they call it the red pill. Proving they at least have the sense to ignore the sequels…
Now – let us pause here. I hang around with a lot of people who seriously dislike the modern university, and have strong feelings about modern mass media. A position that suggests these things are terrible is hardly remarkable. Indeed, I know many who hope to set up their own – alternative – university as a pure source of insight and education for a population that is otherwise reliant on an increasingly corrupt mainstream media to understand the world.
Well, so does Moldbug – he calls his grand ambition the “anti-versity”. He’s not working on it now though – he’s working on a start-up called “Urbit” that aims to allow people to reclaim ownership over their online life via a bespoke cloud hosting service. Funded by Peter Thiel.
You see why I was terrified?
Anyway – his issue with progressivism, and indeed democracy, is that he doesn’t think that it works. To back this up he points to the existence of crime, and of what journalists love to euphemise as “the underclass”. (As usual with Moldbug the weaker points of his argument are backed up either by vague state-of-the-world conjecture or contextless lengthy quotations from dead white European guys.)
So the obvious solution is to restore monarchy in a joint-stock holding national corporation (with the aristocracy as stock holders) . Of course. Reasons for this leap include that Kings are nice, and aristocrats are nice (there’s a might conservative aestheticism under here). Monarchies never suffered from war, strife or insurrection, they provided societal and economic stability, and did I mention that Kings are nice? Any contrary understanding you may have around monarchy is simply the lies you have been fed by “The Cathedral”.
(You remember that South Park episode about Scientology where they had the caption “this is what Scientologists actually believe”?)
That “Cathedral” thing, by the way, is a path in to a religious metaphor about progressivism. It’s a religion! Because people believe stuff, and want other people to believe stuff. (Where as neoreactionism is, I guess, a cult – what with the initiation ceremonies and secret revelation and all that). And the religious underpinning of wider society is tied back to low-church protestantism via the American Civil War, which puts friend Moldbug on the side of the Anglicans and kind of makes me want to hope he reads Richard Hooker’s “Of The Laws Of Ecclesiastical Polity” as a crash course in minutely and at length (Moldbug’s blog posts are longer than mine!) arguing for a clearly ridiculous position.
But back to everything you believe being wrong. Having taken the “red pill”, we next must prove ourselves by denying three sacred Cathedral truths: anthropogenic global warming, fiat currencies/any post-WW2 economics, and human biodiversity.
Moldbug himself undermines the first – it is accepted that (i) more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere makes the earth warmer (since 1896!), (ii) we are putting more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere than ever before, (iii) the Earth is (viewed on both a geological and human scale) warmer that it ever has been. There is discussion to be had on the precise relation between these variables, which is why climate modeling is a thing. His argument with this is the same as that one creepy Uncle you have would make – apparently scientists only get grants if they agree with everything all other scientists think, and only a small cadre of brave, embattled fossil-fuel company owning billionaires can see the (inconvenient) truth. #slowhandclap
Next up – apparently we need to… pauses for dramatic effect… get back on the gold standard. A finite money supply is better than fiat money because stability, and every economic theory other than what is broadly called the “Austrian School” – you know, the “rational actor”, “business cycle” stuff that led to so much stability in the past? – is wrong. I don’t think it’s even worth our while arguing about this, but economics is a broad church (except, counterfactually, in academia – read your Mirowski, who is sage enough to note the central place of neo-classical economics – Austrian School plus one – within what some call the neoliberal economics which… hasn’t been good for us recent). Also – doesn’t this sound like Bitcoin? similar set of roots ties together that whole world of crazy.
Not quite tied in at source, here, but relevant is the “rule of feet” idea that if a serf didn’t like a particular monarchic city he could always stroll off and serf for a different one – thus excusing a corporate disregard for surplus labourers and non-labourers with the lazy assumption that states that did care for temporarily non-working workers would grow faster (and thus provide more shareholder value) than those that don’t.
But “Human Biodiversity” is a scientific-sounding terminology that allows entitled white boys to say racist stuff. Let’s let Frank Zappa explain:
Eventually it was discovered
Did not want us to be
All the same
For the Governments of The World
As it seemed contrary
To the doctrine of
Portion Controlled Servings
Mankind must be made more uniformly
If THE FUTURE
Was going to work
Various ways were sought
To bind us all together
But, alas SAMENESS was unenforceable
It was about this time
Came up with the idea of TOTAL CRIMINALIZATION
Based on the principle that
If we were ALL crooks
We could at last be uniform
To some degree
In the eyes of THE LAW
That’s about the long and the short of it. People are fundamentally different, so we should treat them differently, and not expect equality. Which sounds almost reasonable until you realise it means in this case that “only people like me should have the opportunities that I have”. This is situated firmly on the “nature” side of the nature/culture debate that has being going on in social sciences since Plato, and uses the gloss of genetic analysis to make it not look like the backward leap it is. The (trigger warning:stupid people trying to sound smart whilst being racist) talk page of the wikipedia article on Human Genetic Diversity is an instructive read on the way the argument plays out. There is actually an ongoing academic debate on how meaningful or otherwise the idea of “race” as a classification is in genetic terms (spoiler: maybe a little, but not very much), and for a taste of that some kind soul has curated a great set of links at the article on Lewontin’s Fallacy.
Interestingly, Austrian economics explicitly speaks out against the idea that people’s economic activity is sensibly considered in aggregate based on societal groupings. Which feels rather ultra-modern at the moment, what with our progressive distrust in everything from learning analytics to FiveThirtyEight, but utterly alien to the HBD world. Which can’t happen here…
Oh and – good news – you can justify misogyny via HBD too! and ableism! and homophobia!
You may think at this point that neo-reaction is simply philosophical cover for being a dick to people. I could see how one could argue that. Certainly, believing that “experts” have lied to you about everything: maybe they lied to you about the good points of not being a dick too.
The rise of neofascism, the death of the social contract of work, and corporatization of the university are not unrelated and here we are.
This concludes our little whistlestop tour of neoreaction and how it links in a number of places to concerns current in radical education technology. Which has been intermittently entertaining, but still unconnected with our 2016! WTF! starting point. (But keep an eye on Peter Thiel – he’s a big fan)
In the latter parts of his “Gentle Introduction”, Moldbug talks about how to bring about a neoreactionary revolution. These are the three steps to hell:
The Anti-Versity, building an alternative power structure
Prepare to accept power when offered
Now I don’t think we take them at face value (that Moldbuggian irony!), but basically this is a riff on the old Freidmanite shuffle – get out of the existing argument, build a new one and then wait for a crisis to come along so you can build an alternative.
The big difference to the “plan” is the absence of an anti-versity. It was a dumb idea anyway, in that universities have little power and less influence, and what would be done if the anti-versity discovered facts that did not accord with the chosen world view? Deliberately biased resources that correct the perceived bias of other resources are seldom pretty. Instead of a university at the head of an anti-cathedral imagine an alternative mainstream media. Where do people get their news these days, and who invests in it?
The passivity here explains the absence of active mainstream right-wing intellectuals (I mean, name one…), and thus an amplification of the perceived liberal effect of the media. For maximum awful we could ensure that newspapers can’t afford to pay journalists properly, and draw on the noble truth that a think piece gets more clicks than actual reportage. This shadow cathedral (death star?) has been sitting quietly off to the right warping public perception and turning politics into an antagonistic us-vs-them affair.
And then hail King Trump?
Is Trump a king? Well he does try to act like one… the royal court, the favoured children, the droit de seigneur, the whole Louis XIV decor… and Moldbug does call for a CEO as king (he suggested Elon Musk).
But on the converse he’s actually not a very good CEO (by any reasonable measure), and he’s a bit – well – common. Aesthetics and decorum are a huge deal for the neo-reactionaries: they want nobles who are truly noble (with elegant, long, royal fingers…)
But he’s a placeholder. Now we’ve normalised the idea of CEO as global leader it’s easier to argue for a better CEO, using the intervening time and Trump’s love of being hated to remove democratic checks and balances as far as possible (maybe by securing power with the unelected administrators before the next guy abolishes them)
This presentation owes an enormous debt to the opportunity I have had to both work and converse with Cameron Neylon of Curtin University. I should clarify that the good bits of the material below should be seen as his influence, the shoddier stuff as my lack of understanding and subtlety. It is presented in a personal capacity.
Substantial pixels have, of late, been devoted to the cultural “demise of the expert” and consequent de-legitimising of academic forms of knowledge. But if we want to know why people don’t believe what we believe, we need to take a long hard look at some of the crazier things we do believe.
Likewise, Open Education, as it matures as an idea has been urged by some voices to consider itself as an academic field. Audrey, in her #etug keynote, suggests that we examine the mechanisms, tropes and homunculi of academic prestige before we take that particular pill.
So I’ve been thinking about one of the new gods of academia – the citation index.
Whether we would have it or no, the purpose of [higher education] is changing. A decade ago the graduate of a college was thought to be fitted with the requisites of a cultural, liberal education, to be ready to begin [their] life work as a good citizen. Everywhere we see the demand for the expert worker, the professional […] who has devoted from two to four additional years to train […] in a special way in a particular field.
PLK and EM Gross of Pomona College writing in Science (October 1927)
Gross and Gross took the latest volume of the Journal of the American Chemical Society as a starting point (“the most representative of American Chemistry”), and simply tabulated the number of references made therein to works in other journals. The academic journals most frequently cited in this periodical were deemed essential for the college library collection, as they had a demonstrably greater influence on the current state of American Chemistry.
Aside from this contribution to library collection building (or resource discovery, if you’d rather) and the wonderful suggestion that every undergraduate chemistry student should have a working knowledge of German, you would be forgiven for thinking that this paper was naught but a historical curiosity. But it was the first in a series of papers that led, directly or indirectly, to the sorry state of academia today.
Vannever Bush’s 1945 piece in the Atlantic “As We May Think” is often hailed as a founding text of the internet (our opening keynote has written, and spoken, with his usual eloquence about this aspect). Bush – fresh from the interdisciplinary practicalities of administering the Manhattan Project – took as his ostensible subject a similar issue to Gross and Gross: the impossibility of keeping up with the literature.
The difficulty seems to be, not so much that we publish unduly in view of the extent and variety of present day interests, but rather that publication has been extended far beyond our present ability to make real use of the record. The summation of human experience is being expanded at a prodigious rate, and the means we use for threading through the consequent maze to the momentarily important item is the same as was used in the days of square-rigged ships.
In considering the future of threading through the maze of scholarship (or an associative trail if you’d rather), Bush considered examining the links between knowledge (or resources signifying knowledge, I guess) as a means of synthesising and creating a greater understanding – allowing for, simply put, better and more accessible research.
Wholly new forms of encyclopedias will appear, ready made with a mesh of associative trails running through them, ready to be dropped into the memex and there amplified. […] The chemist, struggling with the synthesis of an organic compound, has all the chemical literature before him in his laboratory, with trails following the analogies of compounds, and side trails to their physical and chemical behavior.
Bush postulated the development of a “memex” – essentially a large database of literature alongside the links between it, as a means of exploring a corpus. But our third great influence on contemporary academia, Eugene Garfield, was spurred by “As We Think” to consider a much wider variety of uses.
Garfield developed the Science Citation Index, under the auspices of the Institute for Scientific Information (ISI). As is often the lot of those with a utopian vision, his early work met with almost universal indifference – compare Vannever Bush’s struggles to establish what became the NSF. But his dream – and boundless energy – prevailed, and the work of the ISI as presented in the 60s almost reached the heights of the knowledge discovery solutions postulated by Bush and the Grosses.
Although ISI was founded to support resource discovery, it has competition built in to its underlying logic. In the 60s it was fair to suggest that not every paper in every journal can be indexed, and not every journal was. So the index started with the idea of a pre-sift. It is contended that that majority of references (80%) are made to a minority of (20%) journals, and that using methods similar to Gross and Gross one could identify and focus on indexing “the best” journals.
Even today the widely used Science Citation Index covers citations within only 3745 journals, Elsevier’s Scopus covers a wider range of literature, including over 21,000 journals – impressively comprehensive until one considers that there is not any one complete list of currently or formerly published academic journals. Of course, both major indexes focus mainly on English language publications in clearly defined established disciplines from traditional publishers.
This serves, of course to amplify inequalities built into a publishing system where (predominately white male western) reviewers recommend to (predominately white male western) editors that articles written by (predominately white male western) academics are published. It is perhaps not too far a leap to suggest that academics with these characteristics are well cited. Laura Czerniewicz showed some truly humbling visualisations illustrating this in her OR2016 keynote.
It is unsafe to consider indexed papers as representing the sum total of world knowledge, or even as being representative of the human race. Indexers choose (predominately) one form of expression, and – as we shall see – do not take this or other assumptions into account when describing the products of this indexing.
Citation index entries as text – and a series of terrible monetary metaphors
Paul Wouters, in his 1999 thesis (“The Citation Culture“) draws a distinction between the “reference” as what actually happens in scientific writing, and the “citation” – which is what appears in a citation index. Though each citation in the index has a corresponding reference, there are references (for instance to grey literature, data, source texts) that do not have corresponding citation index entries. And though each “reference” will have a unique context in describing a precise and nuanced relationship between two text, a citation index entry – for the purposes of indexing – is simply a citation index entry. At that point, all those words of wisdom sound the same.
The role of the citation might also be compared with that of money, especially if the evaluative use of scientometrics is taken into account . Whenever the value of an article is expressed in its citation frequency, the citation is the unit of a “currency of science”. (p108)
In economic terms citation index entries are fungible – each has equal value within the index, and multiples of can be measured against each other in order to ascribe comparative value. Also, like a fiat currency, there are several “central banks” (ICI, Scopus) which create (and destroy! – not every journal stays on the list forever) citation index entries in response to demand and to policy needs such as the need to control inflation – there is a theoretical infinite number of potential entries, but these are controlled by alterations to the coverage of the index. But there are important ways in which the citation index economy does not function like a fiat currency.
The citation shares still another property with the signs of money and language: it can only function properly in the midst of other citations. Therefore, citations need to be mass-produced. A lone citation does not make sense. It derives its function mainly from its relations to other citations. In other words, it is self-referential. Whether one tries to map science or to evaluate it, one needs large amounts of citation data. (p109)
I’m unfairly picking up a very, very small theme in Wouters’ superb and comprehensive thesis here, but I believe it is an important one.
In Blaise Cronin’s “The Citation Process” (1984), he touches on the practice of science as a mechanism of exchange in glossing work by Merton, Storer and others.
The commodity which scientists traditionally exchange is knowledge or information, and in drawing on the intellectual property of their peers, scientists have to enter the exchange system and ’pay the going rate’, so to speak. The currency, to maintain the economic metaphor, is the ‘coin of recognition’. The exchange on which the social system hinges is
information for recognition. The formal record of these transactions is the scientific establishment’s traditional
ledger, the scholarly journal. The most common form of
‘currency’ is the citation. (p19-20)
Ledgers, with the advent of blockchain and other innovations in “fintech”, have become peculiarly fashionable in recent times. And indeed, it is possible to build a simple metaphorical model of scientific publishing as blockchain with aspects of a Ponzi scheme – with a distributed ledger (multiple journals) added to via proof of work (the writing and publication of a paper) hashed (rendered into academic language) in order that value is both realised and distributed in the form of the ‘coin of recognition’ to earlier contributors, with the promise that similar ‘coin’ will be forthcoming to the most recent participants.
This model almost continues to hold up if the monetary system around journals is taken into account. Doing good research, bluntly, is expensive and is becoming more so. In the majority of cases, one must then pay either to view or contribute to the journal – analogous to the contribution of electrical and processing power to blockchain creation. And – like blockchain – these costs, and the costs of conducting high quality underlying research, concentrate contributions into a smaller and smaller group of centres (universities) capable of getting a paper into a prestige journal as the proof of work becomes more arduous.
Adding references adds to transparency – it’s why I’m adding all these links so you can see I am not making this all up. But citation indexing actually adds a couple of layers of opacity to our understanding of the scientific process.
The first is perhaps more a matter of obscurity than opacity – how do journals get selected to be on the index? Eugene Garfield would claim that this is the correct use of Journal Impact Factor (the number of index entries received by articles published in that journal during the two preceding years, divided by the total number of articles published in that journal during the two preceding years – which requires, circularly, the citaton index entries to happen in a journal that is already on the index!). But he cites a rather telling alternate explanation:
These days, both Web of Science and Scopus offer detailed criteria, predictably preserving this beautiful circularity alongside sundry cultural and language barriers. Basically, good journals are good because they are like other good journals.
The second issue is simply how a reference becomes a citation index entry.
A reference is a polysemous thing – yes, it reflects a link between one piece of scholarship and “something else”, but it also holds contextual information (where in the paper is it?), intention information (am I being nice or naughty?), normative social information (is it the key reference in the field I am writing?), specific social information (am I citing Martin Weller in the hope he’ll cite me?), transactional information (did Martin Weller cite me so now I have to cite him?)…
All of this meaning is somehow compressed down into a simple, interchangeable (remember fungibility?) unit that can be combined with others – and this collection of units now somehow tells me something about academic quality. Hoeffel (above) attempts to sidestep this oddness by claiming it is all a proxy for what we all already know, but this is a proxy (as pointed out by Wilsdon and others) that has a deadly power in false precision.
So what can be done?
There are projects, such as Open Citations (formerly funded by Jisc) that sought to graph and link (via RDF) citations in Open Access literature. More recently, we have seen experiments in Semantometrics (another Jisc funded project) that seek to recognise the value of context in referencing practice in developing new indicators. CrossRef and open identifiers like ORCID improve data quality and add back some of the contextual information for those who wish to explore it. And there are “improvements” to impact factor style metrics made all the time.
On the other hand, James Wilsdon’s report for HEFCE – “The Metric Tide” – brought home in clear and uncompromising terms the human cost of reliance on oversimplified research metrics. And efforts exist to transfer the existing mess that represents practice around citation metrics to other forms of referend, such as research data.
Open access to research literature is key to all of the efforts to gain control and understanding over citation metrics. By allowing (along with appropriate formatting!) any paper to be indexed, it forces open one of the two black boxes that have held such a sway over the past quarter-century of academic life.
The other, around the creation and destruction of meaning at the reference/index point of flux, requires rather more thought – and it will be difficult, if not impossible, to wean the educational superstructure off scientific-seeming measurements that add credence and objectivity to otherwise arbitrary decisions.
But what hath this to do with tillageopen education?
In open education, we stand at the beginning of the discovery and “rating” revolution. Resources are becoming an academic achievement, and our only-too-human urge to see the maximum use made of our work are already leading to conversations about measuring reuse and “amazon style recommendations”.
We’re at the start. Academic citation indexes, and similar systems, are the end point. Proceed with caution.