There was a problem with the network at the University today, which has meant no email, internet, or Tweetdeck for me all day. Although the University is generally a quiet place during the students’ summer break, it has felt particularly so today, with only the telephone or a face-to-face conversation to connect me to colleagues. Of course, there was plenty of work to be getting on with - not least the stack of reading I have to catch up on - but without the constant backdrop of regular email checks, browsing my Twitter feeds for industry news, or Googling, I have felt strangely uncomfortable.
Part of me welcomed the opportunity to focus intently on the close-reading of a journal article, thinking carefully about the issues raised and forming a personal response, but I admit I also found myself out of practice in terms of holding my concentration for a long period without any of my usual distractions. Thinking about this feeling of discomfort I asked myself ‘Do I have an Internet addiction?’
A new book by Nicholas Carr – ‘The Shallows: How the Internet is Changing the Way We Think, Read and Remember’ explores the impact the Internet has had on our brains, raising some important issues for those of us in academia. Carr posits that the Internet has changed the way we read and comprehend texts; that it has changed our cognitive process, enabling us to take in an enormous breadth of information quickly, but to the detriment of the depth of our understanding and thinking (Carr, 2010).
The close-reading and interpretation of complex texts are key skills students at degree and postgraduate level are expected to master and demonstrate in their assessment. As Universities we may reward breadth of research (i.e. a long list of credible references is often viewed positively by those marking academic assessments) but only if the student demonstrates a genuine understanding of the texts referred to. Carr suggests that this ability to concentrate on the reading of a single text is one of the cognitive abilities being eroded by the Internet. If this is indeed true, it raises a number of questions and concerns both for society as a whole and more specifically for those of us engaged in teaching and learning.
Carr is one of a growing number of writers (notably of physical books) expressing concerns about the impact the Internet is having on our lives (e.g. Bauerulein, 2008; Jackson, 2009; Lanier, 2010). It is important that these voices speak out, and that we are aware of both the benefits and difficulties the Internet can bring in order to make a balanced judgement.
My view? The Internet may be a runaway train, but it’s something we have to take individual, personal responsibility for. It’s a revolution we can, and must, adapt and adapt to. We are co-creators of the Internet and, as adults, we have to accept that we are responsible for our own relationship with it.
Has the internet changed the way you read and think?
References
Bauerlein, M. (2008) The Dumbest Generation, New York, Tarcher/Penguin.
Carr, N. (2010) The Shallows: How the Internet is Changing the Way We Think, London, Norton.
Jackson, M. (2008) Distracted: The Erosion of Attention and the Coming Dark Age, New York, Prometheus.
Lanier, J. (2010) You Are Not A Gadget: A Manifesto, London, Allen Lane.
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
Sunday, 22 August 2010
Creative is not a noun...
One of my pet hates of the moment is the propensity for those engaged in professions or pursuits which require creativity to describe themselves as 'creatives'.
Without doubt, creativity is something we have in spades here in the UK and it's something of which we are, quite rightly, extremely proud. However, the use of 'creative' as a noun in two particular ways give me cause for concern; and, despite the title of this post, my objection is not purely grammatical (although I admit the pedant in me is slightly indignant at the use of what any reputable dictionary will tell you is an adjective in this way).
The first is a matter of simple self-aggrandisement. Describing oneself as a 'creative' may sound impressive, set you apart from other, less glamourous, professions; but I have heard it used in a way that insinuates that anyone who is not a 'creative' is either 1) not creative or 2) somehow a lesser being. In some ways it strikes me as a natural reaction of the arts to many decades of ridicule by the scientific disciplines who have often been viewed with greater respect by the establishment. However, two wrongs don't make a right.
You may argue that to call oneself a 'scientist' is considered acceptable - and indeed it is (although scientists do not generally describe themselves as 'scientifics'). It is the appropriation and monopolisation of creativity that I object to. In my view, scientists, artists, designers and every other job or profession can be engaged in creativity.
Perhaps the word 'creative' is being used to describe the multi-disciplinary creative work that many of us are now engaged in, and I do not object to its use in this form, but what I do object to strongly is the use of 'creative' as a way of excluding others. Richard Florida identified what he describes as the 'creative class' in his 2003 book 'The Rise of the Creative Class', a label which, in my view, perpetuates a divisive approach to creativity in society. Skip forward to 2008 and there are a slew of management gurus telling us how to manage 'creatives' (e.g. Torr, 2008), handling them with kid gloves as though they are somehow deserving of special treatment. This is both patronising and pandering.
This leads to the second issue, the use of 'creative' as an excuse for unprofessional or downright bad behaviour. Just because you are an artist, designer or musician, it does not give you the right to treat other people with disrespect, be lazy, or expect special treatment in the workplace. Creativity is not an excuse for lateness, rudeness or petulance, and yet I have met people who have used it as such and have trained those around them to accept this behaviour. Those people who pander to this bad behaviour are just as guilty in my eyes.
My view is simple - there is no such thing as a creative class - we're all creative people in our own ways, and we are all capable of behaving in an adult, professional and respectful way.
So, if you describe yourself to me as a creative, don't be surprised if I say 'a creative what?'
Without doubt, creativity is something we have in spades here in the UK and it's something of which we are, quite rightly, extremely proud. However, the use of 'creative' as a noun in two particular ways give me cause for concern; and, despite the title of this post, my objection is not purely grammatical (although I admit the pedant in me is slightly indignant at the use of what any reputable dictionary will tell you is an adjective in this way).
The first is a matter of simple self-aggrandisement. Describing oneself as a 'creative' may sound impressive, set you apart from other, less glamourous, professions; but I have heard it used in a way that insinuates that anyone who is not a 'creative' is either 1) not creative or 2) somehow a lesser being. In some ways it strikes me as a natural reaction of the arts to many decades of ridicule by the scientific disciplines who have often been viewed with greater respect by the establishment. However, two wrongs don't make a right.
You may argue that to call oneself a 'scientist' is considered acceptable - and indeed it is (although scientists do not generally describe themselves as 'scientifics'). It is the appropriation and monopolisation of creativity that I object to. In my view, scientists, artists, designers and every other job or profession can be engaged in creativity.
Perhaps the word 'creative' is being used to describe the multi-disciplinary creative work that many of us are now engaged in, and I do not object to its use in this form, but what I do object to strongly is the use of 'creative' as a way of excluding others. Richard Florida identified what he describes as the 'creative class' in his 2003 book 'The Rise of the Creative Class', a label which, in my view, perpetuates a divisive approach to creativity in society. Skip forward to 2008 and there are a slew of management gurus telling us how to manage 'creatives' (e.g. Torr, 2008), handling them with kid gloves as though they are somehow deserving of special treatment. This is both patronising and pandering.
This leads to the second issue, the use of 'creative' as an excuse for unprofessional or downright bad behaviour. Just because you are an artist, designer or musician, it does not give you the right to treat other people with disrespect, be lazy, or expect special treatment in the workplace. Creativity is not an excuse for lateness, rudeness or petulance, and yet I have met people who have used it as such and have trained those around them to accept this behaviour. Those people who pander to this bad behaviour are just as guilty in my eyes.
My view is simple - there is no such thing as a creative class - we're all creative people in our own ways, and we are all capable of behaving in an adult, professional and respectful way.
So, if you describe yourself to me as a creative, don't be surprised if I say 'a creative what?'
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Another results day, another media frenzy...
So, it's results day again. The same shrill voices decrying falling standards, the pass rates rising, the scramble for places. It's a familiar picture, and in recent years the agenda for this day has increasingly been set by a media whirlwind, whipped up into a newspaper and bulletin-filling frenzy. The excruciating sight of groups of young people receiving their results 'live' has become a feature of TV news bulletins, something which is (in my view) as voyeuristic and intrustive as rubber-necking at a car accident on a motorway.
Has it gone too far? Or is it just symptomatic of our expectation to see every detail of our lives played out on-screen? After all, these students have presumably agreed to take part in the broadcast of what may be a pivotal moment in their lives. Have they been seduced by the glamour of the media and the chance of their 15 minutes of fame? Are they mature enough to make that decision? If not, where should the responsibility lie? With the media? Their parents? Their School or College?
This raises a series of questions about ethics in the media, personal responsibility, and celebrity. In terms of the media, although there a plenty of positive examples of practical advice and support for University applicants in the national media, the price we pay is the sensationalism of the headlines. My ethical questions to journalists on this issue are; does the coverage place unnecessary pressure on students (by showing groups of 'straight A' students and highlighting the squeeze on places for example)? Does this result in unwarranted levels of panic and hysteria? Can this be justified?
Phrases such s 'X has sparked a debate' and 'Y has raised questions about', where the newspaper itself is the source of debate or question, are familiar devices used by journalists to bolster a story, but where are the ethical boundaries in placing enormous pressure on young people at a moment when they are extremely vulnerable? Should we be concerned about the way the media presents 'results day' - the pantomime of joy and despair, the innumerable 'infographics'? Like the general election, I fear some of the news media may have taken the interpretation (or manipulation) of statistics around this a little too far - to the detriment of the core story. But, in a season where 'real' news is difficult to come by, can we blame our national media for seizing an opportunity to sell papers or increase ratings? Is it demand for this information that is driving the supply? Who knows.
What I do know is that this year, more than any in the past decade, things really are tough for those students who have applied to university. The story is genuine, and there may indeed be many students who do not achieve their desired outcome, but there are always choices. Every applicant has options, and in my view we should be focusing on helping these young people make calm, informed decisions about their future. The message to the media? Stop the scaremongering and focus on showing all students that, no matter what their results, with determination and hard work they can still achieve amazing things.
Has it gone too far? Or is it just symptomatic of our expectation to see every detail of our lives played out on-screen? After all, these students have presumably agreed to take part in the broadcast of what may be a pivotal moment in their lives. Have they been seduced by the glamour of the media and the chance of their 15 minutes of fame? Are they mature enough to make that decision? If not, where should the responsibility lie? With the media? Their parents? Their School or College?
This raises a series of questions about ethics in the media, personal responsibility, and celebrity. In terms of the media, although there a plenty of positive examples of practical advice and support for University applicants in the national media, the price we pay is the sensationalism of the headlines. My ethical questions to journalists on this issue are; does the coverage place unnecessary pressure on students (by showing groups of 'straight A' students and highlighting the squeeze on places for example)? Does this result in unwarranted levels of panic and hysteria? Can this be justified?
Phrases such s 'X has sparked a debate' and 'Y has raised questions about', where the newspaper itself is the source of debate or question, are familiar devices used by journalists to bolster a story, but where are the ethical boundaries in placing enormous pressure on young people at a moment when they are extremely vulnerable? Should we be concerned about the way the media presents 'results day' - the pantomime of joy and despair, the innumerable 'infographics'? Like the general election, I fear some of the news media may have taken the interpretation (or manipulation) of statistics around this a little too far - to the detriment of the core story. But, in a season where 'real' news is difficult to come by, can we blame our national media for seizing an opportunity to sell papers or increase ratings? Is it demand for this information that is driving the supply? Who knows.
What I do know is that this year, more than any in the past decade, things really are tough for those students who have applied to university. The story is genuine, and there may indeed be many students who do not achieve their desired outcome, but there are always choices. Every applicant has options, and in my view we should be focusing on helping these young people make calm, informed decisions about their future. The message to the media? Stop the scaremongering and focus on showing all students that, no matter what their results, with determination and hard work they can still achieve amazing things.
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