Schools and Experts

N. Postman talking Technopoly on BookTV in July 1992.

While chasing down supplementary material on Neil Postman, I happened upon his most excellent graduation speech. Although (to my knowledge) Postman never had an opportunity to recite these words at a commencement ceremony, the sentiment and message rank this as one of the better graduation speeches I've heard or read (DFW's speech at Kenyon is pretty damn moving too). The tone of this speech is similar to the Neil Postman I found in the latter sections of Technopoly -- engaging, encouraging, optimistic (albeit hesitantly). In fact, Postman's speech echoes many of my own interests in asking technological--cultural questions, pursuing a teaching career, etc. Also, it is prefaced by a statement promoting open access -- well ahead of his time with regard to communal knowledge/sharealike/creative commons/etc. "If you think my graduation speech is good, I hereby grant you permission to use it, without further approval from or credit to me, should you be in an appropriate situation." What a great introduction! I wonder if he would have made similar remarks on the occasion of beginning the speech?

Aside from functioning as an inspirational (graduation) speech, the aforementioned piece also encouraged me to rethink Technopoly. This is not to suggest that I did not appreciate the text. In fact, I found it rather engaging and appropriately controversial/thought-provoking. Since my previous  post paid a lot of attention to Postman's outmoded view of the culture-technology relationship, I want to stress how valuable Technopoly (and Postman more generally) is to framing a critique of technology in education. Although I find components of his argument a bit fraught, I appreciate how Postman conceptualizes technology's cultural role. Of particular interest are his thoughts on the controlling capacity of experts and schools.

At great length Postman discusses the dubious role of bureaucracy and expertise in the 20th century. In current and soon-to-come Technopolies, these two phenomena become more prominent and problematic (At the time of publication, Postman saw the US as the only true Technopoly. I wonder which other nations Postman would add to the list in 2013?). In such situations "There is no aspect of human relations that has not been technicalized and therefore relegated to the control of experts." [Well said! This is indeed the veiled truth of 21st century life.] This becomes even more troubling when considering that Technopoly's experts tend to be ignorant about any matter not directly related to their specialized area. Thus experts are not expected to have [even superficial] knowledge beyond their area of expertise. Clearly this must change -- for the betterment of education in particular; for the betterment of civilization in general. Like bureaucracy itself (with which an expert may or may not be connected), Technopoly's experts claim dominion not only over technical matters but also over social, psychological, and moral affairs. Isn't it concerning if the "role of the expert is to concentrate on one field of knowledge, sift through all that is available, eliminate that which has no bearing, and use what is left to assist in solving a problem"? Doesn't everything have (or at least could have) a bearing? Postman explains that this sort of intellectual reductionism "works fairly well in situations where only a technical solution is required and there is no conflict with human purposes...works less well in situations where technical requirements may conflict with human purposes ...and it is disastrous when applied to situations that cannot be solved by technical means and where efficiency is usually irrelevant." Given the experts' lack of breadth, one must worry about their ability to properly direct non-technical matters. In fact, I argue that a lack of breadth makes technical experts poor advisors for technical matters. If experts cannot understand the full complexity of the web into which their technical decision will be introduced, should we rely upon their so-called expertise? Shouldn't expertise involve more a connection-making process? It seems critical for experts to understand how little pieces into larger (and ever-larger) webs. At its core, Postman's analysis of the powerful control of near-sighted and narrowly-focused experts seems a robust argument for cultivating interdisciplinary people and teams.

Further complicating the function of expertise and schooling is the notion of testing. While I do not wish to recap the entire argument here, suffice it to say that these invisible technologies reduce the types and quantities of information admitted to a system. Moreover, tests transform "an abstract and multifaceted meaning into a technical and exact term that leaves out everything of importance." Two prime examples: IQ tests and SATs. There is the implied assumption that IQ tests truly measure an individual's intelligence quotient (or that there is a measurable quotient of the multidimensional concept of intelligence) and that SAT scores actually indicate a student's scholastic aptitude. Nevertheless, we rely upon these invisible technologies to tell us who should have access to knowledge, to what extent we should deify them as experts, etc.

We become so accustomed to these invisible technologies it is an imposing challenge to think of new approaches. How can we measure intelligence without standardized tests? How can we learn without a college course? The answer to these and other questions is often an emphatic, "We can't!" Caught in the momentum of the invisible technology/cultural structure, we aren't only reluctant to change, but we are wholly unaware of that there could be (or in many cases should be) alternative modes of operation.

Invoking his friend Alan Kay (For a quick summary of Alan Kay's critique of technology in education, read this interview from Cult of Mac), Postman suggests that problems schools cannot solve without machines, they cannot solve with them. Yes and no. As Kay and Postman explain, it isn't that technology in education is a bad idea (pencils, paper, and books are all pretty revolutionary educational technologies), but we are failing to use technologies to their full educational potential. Alan Kay is more outspoken on this matter, but Postman conveys similar sentiments regarding the shortcomings of "computer technology" to generate radical and substantive changes in society and/or education.

Postman explains that Technopoly is a sociocultural order and mental state of mind that is based upon the deification of technology. Although certainly disheartening, this is by no means an unescapable condition. More problematic than the mental state are the social institutions that function as control mechanisms

…sometimes they do their work simply by denying people access to information, but principally by directing how much weight and, therefore, value one must give to information

For Postman, the school (at all levels -- primary, secondary, post-secondary) is one of the main social institutions that functions as a mechanism for information control. In summary, the school certifies what students should or should not think about. Relying upon curricula, course descriptions, degree programs, and other standard institutional apparatuses, the school effectively includes and excludes what information/knowledge (I've conflated the two terms here, but would like to return to a discussion of how [if necessary] these concepts are [or should be] differentiated) is accessible to students. Under such systems of information management, educational institutions (and the educational system) define what constitutes legitimate knowledge. Via the regulation and valuation of information/knowledge, educational institutions are effectively enacting and perpetuating theories about the purpose and meaning of education. If at all reliant upon the exclusion of information/knowledge, these theories and subsequent practices are not only detrimental to the educational mission, but also to the development of  engaged 21st century citizens. Indeed, the exclusion of information is a major obstacle for 21st century education (and cultural) reform.

It is important to understand (or at least question) why we do things the way(s) we do them. Only under such inquisitive circumstances can we rethink, revise, reinvent, etc. Alas, it cannot stop after one iteration. This is an endless process of re-creation. We must be a fully attentive culture! Neither immediately dismissive of nor instantly enamored, we must find balance in our approach to technology. Critical consciousness with regard to technology (in education and elsewhere) is absolutely necessary!  We must not grant exorbitant prestige to experts (who are viewed with priestly charisma) armed with technology. So, as we graduate to a new stage of the technology-culture relationship, may the Athenians mightily outnumbered the Visigoths.

For more on Neil Postman, sift through the treasure trove of online texts and interviews. Oh, and be sure to page through his other books. I have a copy of Teaching as a Subversive Activity sitting on my bookshelf, perhaps this is the perfect motivation to pick it up and continue my feverish reading and annotating of N. Postman. Should probably also find copies of Teaching as a Conserving Activity and The End of Education.

Full of greats from Western philosophy and depictions of esteemed knowledge, Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino's (aka Raphael) 16th century fresco The School of Athens (or Scuola di Atene), offers a visual reminder of the breadth of knowledge emphasized during Ancient Greece (as updated for the Italian Renaissance. While some modes of ancient knowledge are no longer en vogue and some distinctly contemporary concerns need inclusion for the 21st century update, Raphael's fresco is a fine reminder of the importance of being a Postman Athenian. It isn't easy an ideal to achieve, but it is undeniably important. Image courtesy of Wikipedia.

Understanding Mr. McLuhan

abstract and contemplative image courtesy of Gingko Press

"The medium is the message." Enough said. Right?

Well, not quite. Arguably his most famous aphorism, this is (unfortunately) the extent to which many people are familiar with the scholarly and cultural contributions of Marshall McLuhan. Undoubtedly catchy, McLuhan's memorable phrase finds its way into various conversations, but not always in the way in which the author intended. Well, maybe that's not quite right.

As Woody Allen so poignantly demonstrates, many people miss the mark when it come to McLuhan.

As satisfying as that moment may have been for Alvy Singer, maybe it doesn't really matter if people don't fully understand what "The medium is the message" means. (Although, inaccurate parroting of the phrase certainly doesn't help disseminate McLuhan's insightful contributions to media studies.) McLuhan was quite aware of how his rhizomatic mode of thinking and  writing style posed a challenge to readers. A venerable treasure trove of aphorisms and witticisms (some more insightful, others mostly playful), Marshall McLuhan was more interested in probing than explaining. As such McLuhan relies on a prose style that explores rather than explains. Although sometimes frustrating for readers, this style and its heavy reliance on aphorisms is one of the great lasting benefits of McLuhan's writing. The style as well as the substance are indispensable tools with which McLuhan sought to prompt and prod  readers into developing an "understanding of how media operate" and to provoking reflection. Maybe, in the midst of the confusion some readers will dig into McLuhan and explore the connecting thoughts/scholarship and piece together a more complete understanding of how each medium, independent of the content it mediates, has its own intrinsic effects which are its unique message.

It's intriguing to speculate what McLuhan might have to say today, nearly 50 years after publishing Understanding Media. With chapters devoted to topics such as "The Photograph: The Brothel-without-Walls," "Movies: The Reel World," "Radio: The Tribal Drum," "Television: The Timid Giant," and "Automation: Learning a Living," McLuhan had volumes to say about mass media's grip on everyday life. Thanks to the never-ending reach of mass media, McLuhan actually still says a lot about the relationship between culture and technology. In addition to numerous websites and digital archives, Marshall McLuhan continue to participate with active Twitter feeds (of the nearly 40 McLuhan-specific Twitter profiles, I favor @marshallmcluhan and @mcluhanspeaks) and thousands of YouTube clips (the Marshall McLuhan Speaks channel is particularly robust). From beyond the grave McLuhan provides his perspective on "the ways in which the machine altered our relations to one another and to ourselves."

Tweets by @marshallmcluhan

You cannot help but be intrigued by a guy so prodigious that he continues to guide the conversation posthumously. McLuhan was so prolific that there is a term (McLuhanisms) to signify all the catch phrases and witticisms he added to the popular lexicon. Sure he was a bit obtuse and sometimes heavy-handed, but one cannot discount McLuhan's contributions to our understanding of how mass media affect human behavior. In an era of new forms and tropes of advertising, rapidly increasing communicative connectivity, and changing cultural dynamics McLuhan was both a scholar concerned with mass media's grip on everyday life as well as himself an object of mass media attention. While McLuhan hoped his writing would facilitate exploration and the reliance of aphorisms would expedite the intellectual probing, he and his stylistic devices often led to confusion. Owing to his radical view of media, technology, and culture as well as his cryptic style, McLuhan achieved a certain level of pop culture celebrity. In addition to his Annie Hall cameo, McLuhan routinely appeared on talk shows, conducted radio interviews, and became a well-known public intellectual who weighed in on all matter tangental to media. Although Tom Brokaw is quick to point out McLuhan's lack of political credentials and McLuhan's theories receive some tongue-in-cheek treatment or even outright dismissal, McLuhan's presence on a morning television program is significant. That particular medium, at that particular cultural moment (the morning timing is also important), provides McLuhan with an opportunity to both explain and illustrate how "The message of any medium or technology is the change of scale or pace or pattern that it introduces into human affairs." McLuhan's analysis of the Ford-Carter debate is a useful example of what McLuhan is saying about the necessity of understanding a particular medium in order to fully interpret a message. Illustrating the crux of McLuhan's theories, this clip should reverberate loudly in the 21st century. No longer are we merely a "television-conscious society," but a media-inundated and communicatively-saturated society, thus understanding various mediums (as separate, but also interconnected) will help us to better understand the messages we are constantly receiving and sending.

When published in 1964, Understanding Media presented a radical view of electronic communications that rattled the scholarly establishment and ignited popular conversations. With much to say about society and technology, McLuhan's introduced his theories during a period of transition marked by growing skepticism about the promise of better living through science and technology. Given the historical circumstances and long reputation attributed to the book, it is unsurprising to find a wealth of material about modes of communication, culture, technological systems, etc. What I did not anticipate when beginning with McLuhan was his attentiveness to education. In hindsight, the educational component makes complete sense. McLuhan writes at length about the need for continuity, complete involvement, creativity, exploration, simultaneousness, interdisciplinarity (often when referring to the shortcomings of specialization).

In fact, part of the impetus for McLuhan's dedication to media analysis stemmed from his experience in the classroom. When conducting courses as a young faculty member at UW-Madison, McLuhan felt there was a gap inhibiting him from fully connecting with his students. Not much older than his students at that time, McLuhan determined the gap wasn't generational nor intellectual, but was the consequence of  different modes of learning and understanding. This is exactly why I see my proposed project as so important. We must strive to understand students, technology, and the relationship between the two is we are to develop a pedagogy (suited [yet adaptable, evolvable, scalable] for the 21st century educational and sociocultural environment) that encourages creativity and deep learning.

Regardless of how McLuhan's theories were initially received, I think few would dispute that mass media have undoubtedly decentralized our 21st century lifestyles and helped turn the world into an interconnected global village. What McLuhan writes about the "Wheel, Bicycle, and Airplane" applies with equal validity to computers, internet, and mobile devices. “The medium is the message” because it is the “medium that shapes and controls the scale and form of human association and action.”

If we consider (as McLuhan does), media as any and all technological extensions of human bodies and minds, what does this mean for contemporary (and future) education? One thing is certain, we must not dwell solely on the impact of media, but also consider the whys, hows, and consequences -- Why might we [knowingly] introduce a particular media into education (there is a whole other level to deal with when considering unknowing introduction of media)? How are media introduced, integrated, leveraged for learning and creativity? What are the consequences after initial impact?

During our age of electronic communications (although I am primarily interested in digital media, I do admit [as McLuhan also discusses] that there is long history of non-electronic communication media that shaped human interaction; what is particularly interesting/significant/different about electronic [and now digital] communication is the speed and scope of its shaping power), it is important to understand how media influence our (individual and collective) experience of the world. Not just the physical world or the social world, but also the educational world. Aren't they all overlapping and interconnected anyway? We must examine how media affect experience in the world(s) of higher education.

The "mass" of McLuhan's famous mass media* refers not (only) to the massive size of communication empires (although this still holds true), but to the involvement of the masses. It's simple. Media is everywhere and connects all types of people, places, things, ideas, etc. Nevertheless, "Media, or the extensions of man, are 'make happen' agents, but not 'make aware' agents." This for me is a critical point when talking about technology in higher education. In fact, this statement forms the crux of my approach to technology use in education. Media can definitely extend and amplify us (as individuals, as learners, as societies, as various conceptions), but media at the same time can amputate and silence us. Regardless of the name, media, technology, etc. create an opportunities to open new doors, boost creativity, inspire learning, etc. At the same time, these same tools, technologies, concepts can dull the learning experience, create rout activities, minimize exploration. Through understanding and critical utilization we (educators, learners, thinkers, etc.) can leverage the amplification and minimize the amputation. McLuhan saw it in the 1960s, "Education has become everybody's business in our society. The globe has become a community of learning." We certainly aren't any less of a global community of learners in 2013 than in 1964. The constant and co-existing media matter at least as much now as 50 years ago. So, "With teaching becoming the business of everybody, round-the-clock, and round-the-globe, what becomes of the older roles and relations of teacher and student?" We have a tremendous opportunity (and a wee bit of an obligation) to rethink the dynamics of learning.

Excited to see what forms the ghost of McLuhan assumes in the upcoming parallel read of Turkle and Postman.

And just in case you want to know more about McLuhan's aphoristic style, here's another memorable clarification from the man himself...

*granted McLuhan did not invent the term "mass media" but he is primarily responsible for its popularization and addition to everyday conversation

McLuhan Primer

Get ready, next up is the incomparable Marshall McLuhan. A creative-thinker, problem-poser, and flexible non-follower who is sometimes difficult to understand, but encourages us to "Watch what happens...Where you don't know what's going to happen, but you follow the crumble."

 

Mumford and Technics

As much about life (and how to live it) as it is about technology, Lewis Mumford's Technics and Civilization is a far-reaching exploration of many-sidedness of technological development. Through the analysis of social, economic, political, and other variables, Mumford presents a view of technology that differed dramatically from his contemporaries' depiction of sequential stages of technological evolution initiated by the Industrial Revolution. With a variety of historical examples, cultural anecdotes,  and philosophical explications Mumford sought to reorient society's understanding of technology and thereby reorient society's understanding of itself. In essence, Mumford emphasized the important role human choices (internal, subconscious, external, and/or deliberate) play in technological development. Dissatisfied with the surface-level and self-congratulatory explanations of technology in the early 20th century, Mumford develops an explanatory framework that is more complex, more interconnected, and ultimately more satisfying than his predecessors.

From a rhetorical perspective, Mumford doesn't take much effort to conceal his objectives. Not only is the introductory chapter title "Objectives," but the first paragraph of the text lays out the main questions Mumford seeks to answer. Much critical attention has focused on the significance of this paragraph. So much in fact, one of the blurbs featured on the back cover of the 2010 edition features a quote from Rosalind Williams that draws explicit attention to weight of Mumford's opening lines. Declaring "The questions posed in the first paragraph of Technics and Civilization still deserve our attention, nearly three quarters of a century after they were written,"[1] the quote is a spot-on summary advocating  Mumford's continued relevance. In his praising foreword to Technics and Civilization, Langdon Winner provides an impassioned argument for including Mumford in any contemporary study of technology. Although initially published in 1934, Mumford's text maintains its significance not only because of it primacy, but also because many of the theories remain relevant. As Winner states, the work that Mumford presents in Technics and Civilization "enable us to imagine the layers of knowledge, belief, and skill embedded within the technologies and institutions that surround us."[2]

Although it's been nearly 80 years since the first publication of the book and much has changed -- the technological landscape, cultural milieu, our understanding of the relationship between the two -- Mumford's ideas retain their intellectual currency. One of the more lasting influences was Mumford's division of "the development of the machine and the machine civilization into three successive, but over-lapping and interpenetrating phases: eotechnic, paleotechnic, neotechnic."[3] For Mumford, these phases are significant not because they periodize human history (which are often arbitrary designations and nearly always fluid), but because they demonstrate how "the social process worked hand in hand with the new ideology and the new technics."[4] Many more recent scholars (Bijker, Hughes, Kranzberg, Noble, etc.) have done a fine job picking up where Mumford left off and offering more analytically rigorous studies of technological development and the technology-culture relationship. Still though, a burgeoning scholars mustn't overlook Mumford's contribution to the study of technology and society.

Much of Technics and Civilization focuses on Mumford's "great hopes for technology,"[5] but there remains an awareness of the changing relationship between technology and culture. Mumford does not dwell upon the shortcomings and pitfalls, but his method for understanding the dynamics between culture and technology requires him to acknowledge the dynamic interplay (both positive and negative). Indeed, Mumford routinely addresses concerns regarding the loss of humanity, experience, objective reality by way of increasing technification and tendency toward abstraction. Many of Mumford's concerns find expression in contemporary discussions of education and technology. "Unfortunately, isolation and abstraction, while important to orderly research and refined symbolic representation, are likewise conditions under which real organisms die, or at least cease to function effectively. The rejection of experience in its original whole...the accuracy and simplicity of science, though they were responsible for its colossal practical achievements, were not an approach to objective reality but a departure from it."[6] Granted Mumford is discussing seventeenth century natural philosophy and the increasing scientification of the world, but much of this applies directly to contemporary discussion of computer-mediated realities. During the 16th and 17th centuries, leading intellectuals (e.g. Bacon, Glanvill, Hooke, Leonardo, etc.) helped usher in a new order founded on "the use of science for the advancement of technics, and the new direction of technics toward the conquest of nature."[7] Many scholars have built their careers on detailed investigations concerning the personas and products associated with the Scientific Revolution. It is neither my interest nor ambition to reiterate the arguments of Kuhn, Shapin, Schaffer, etc., but I do wish to point out how many of the ideological attributes that facilitated the increasing scientification of civilization in the 17th century closely parallel the increasing digitification (or perhaps computerification -- but it seems somewhat beyond the computer or at the very least the notion of the computer is shifting) of education.

L.M. looking contemplative while immersed
in nature on the 18 April 1938 cover of Time 

Those of us with an eye on the role of technology in education must wonder how this longstanding preoccupation on its ideological head. In other words, how can technics be directed for the betterment (rather than rhetorically loaded term 'conquest') of the adventure of learning and creativity? Therefore, I aim to think more about Mumford's questions in terms of their potential for addressing pedagogy, technology, and higher education. Discussing how the development of a scientific methodology created an environment that required invention, Mumford explains "The displacement of the living and the organic took place rapidly with the early development of the machine. For the machine was a counterfeit of nature, nature analyzed, regulated, narrowed, controlled by the mind of men."[8] There is a lot to unpack in this statement, but my immediate concern lies with the machine as creator of counterfeit. While we still discuss the machine (here I'm thinking primarily of computers) in terms of virtual reality, a shift is occurring. Virtual reality (note that counterfeit has dropped from the lexicon) is not always negative. Now the machine (in a radically different, yet strikingly similar manifestation) is oft depicted as the great creative tool of our age. Still though, there is a large contingent that suggests this creative tool is a high priced, needlessly complicated distraction from learning. Indeed, the "unquestioned faith in the machine has been severly shaken."[9] Although somewhat hyperbolic, the contrasting representations of technology in education cannot be underemphasized. How are we to reconcile these diametrically opposed perspectives? How can a critical pedagogy ever enable deep learning and immersive creativity? First, it is necessary to understanding how culture shapes the development and utilization of technologies (both an individual technology -- what Mumford call machines -- and the interconnected matrix of technologies operating at a given time -- what Mumford call the machine).

Take Mumford's discussion of the "various types of writing pen."[10] Used to exemplify the interconnectedness of the technical complex where "any part will...point to and symbolize a whole series of relationships within that complex,"[11] the pen portrays the characteristics and environment typical of each phase. Mumford's main point here (and reiterated throughout the text) is the importance of the assemblage. The individual technologies are not critical. Various technologies can be invented at various times. Nor are the individual characteristics of the environment. Instead, the relationships between technologies and the environment are paramount. What then are we to make of the writing pen in the 21st century? What writing instrument is typical of this technological phase? Moreover, what phase are we currently operating within? Are we still operating in the neotechnic phase? Or perhaps in the late 1990s and early 2000s we transitioned into a new digitechnic phase?

Tackling the rapidly moving technological targets is not an easy task. Vast webs consisting of pedagogies, educational policies, technological innovation, cultural practices, among other nodes have shaped (and continue to shape) the climate of higher education. To adjust the trajectory of technology  in higher education will require understanding the ties that bind these various aspects. Nevertheless, there are models for how to approach such a dynamic endeavor. Just as "Modern man could not have found his own particular modes of thought or invented his present technical equipment without drawing freely on the cultures that had preceded him or that continued to develop about him,"[12] so too will I rely upon the work of my intellectual predecessors to help develop a new approach to the study of technology in higher education.

Certainly not the perfect model, Technics and Civilization provides a solid foundation. Mumford firmly connects the technological with the cultural; identifying how the relationship creates, modifies, and removes in both directions. Additionally, Mumford offers a fine example of how a scholar can integrate historical analysis into a project focused on "re-orienting our technics...bringing it more completely into harmony with the new cultural and regional and societal and personal patterns we have coordinately begun to develop."[13] In other words, in Technics and Civilization I see somewhat of a template for engaging and forward-thinking scholarship. As Williams explains in her long and contemplative review of the text, "The book we know as Technics and Civilization is an accident. Mumford intended to write a book not about the technological past but about the cultural future. He planned a brief discussion of machinery as a preface to a far more comprehensive cultural study...He believed that the first step in reorienting our civilization was understanding the machine, as a means of understanding society and ourselves."[14] Attentive to the interplay between culture and technology and concerned with the future cultural trajectory Mumford provides a useful framework for initiating a study addressing future role of technology in education. At times a bit overly stylized and a bit scant on details (at least by modern scholarly standards), Technics and Civilization is not an ideal, but certainly a fine component of my creative syncretism.

As an individual with various interests and inspirations, I find Mumford's interdisciplinarity to be particularly motivating. To be sure, there are various historical examples of individuals who excelled in several different areas (for those interested, Wikipedia provides a list of such individuals; although the evaluative rigor is somewhat questionable). However, it is less common to find a polymath (aka Renaissance Man) who possessed similarly diverse, yet interconnected interests as oneself. Mere interest in an assortment of topics does not qualify me as a polymath, I am hopeful that my array of degrees and experiences will coalesce in a manner productively similar to Mumford. Oddly, Mumford's obituary from The New York Times provides biographical summary that is strikingly similar to my own.

'If I have any field of specialization at all, it is the all-inclusive one of the social philosopher,' Mr. Mumford once said. It was an apt description, for there was scarcely any aspect of modern society that he left unexamined. Science, technology, urban living, city planning, education, politics, literature, militarism - all these subjects and more Mr. Mumford expounded in a long life of teaching, lecturing and writing here and abroad.

By no means do I wish to duplicate Mumford's trajectory (Williams points out some rather unsavory attributes that need not be duplicated). Instead, as I try to connect various topical components to create a complete structure, I see Mumford's interdisciplinary career as scaffolding for this project.

Notes

1. Rosalind Williams, "Lewis Mumford's Technics and Civilization," Technology and Culture 43, no 1 (2002): 148-149.
2. Langdon Winner, foreword to Technics and Civilization, Lewis Mumford (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010), xi.
3. Lewis Mumford, Technics and Civilization (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010), 109.
4. Ibid., 2010),41.
5. Langdon Winner, foreword to Technics and Civilization, Lewis Mumford (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010), xii.
6. Lewis Mumford, Technics and Civilization (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010), 50.
7. Ibid., 57.
8. Ibid., 52.
9. Ibid., 365.
10. Ibid., 110.
11. Ibid., 110.
12. Ibid., 107.
13. Ibid., 434.
14. Rosalind Williams, "Lewis Mumford's Technics and Civilization," Technology and Culture 43, no 1 (2002): 141.

References

"Lewis Mumford, a Visionary Social Critic, Dies at 94." The New York Times (New York, NY), Jan. 28, 1990.

Mumford, Lewis. Technics and Civilization. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010.

Williams, Rosalind. "Lewis Mumford's Technics and Civilization." Technology and Culture 43, no. 1 (2002): 139-149.

The Road Ahead

Now enrolled in my final course as a doctoral student, I am preparing the foundation for the ambitious intellectual structure referred to as the dissertation. During the next few months, I will devote the majority of my academic time to an exploration of the connections between pedagogy and technology in higher education. The expressed goal for this project is to map out the materials/argument for my forthcoming dissertation. Therefore, I'm initiating a subtle shift in the blog's thematic focus. While in the past I've published sporadically about research and other academic endeavors, the plan moving forward is to use this blog primarily as a space for weekly critical reflections. By blogging my way through an assortment of materials, I aim to better articulate my unique approach to reconceptualizing the relationship between technology and particular forms of educational philosophy.

Leveraging the interactive power of the internet, I'm hoping that readers will provide feedback about individual posts (which will all use the label "STS5974"), development of my overall argument, the contents of the reading list, or anything tangential to the topics I'm exploring. Blogging provides a tremendous opportunity to conduct rigorous academic inquiry that is immediately available for comment from blog-reading communities (scholarly and otherwise).

Before we go too far afield, a bit of background...

My area of emphasis within STS is the relationship between technology and pedagogy in contemporary higher education. In general, I expect my dissertation to trace the trajectory of digital technology use and associated pedagogical developments (or the absence thereof) in higher education. Obviously this is a dense topic that needs unpacking and clarification. Unfortunately, there are not any current STS courses at Virginia Tech that address such an emphasis. Therefore, I created an independent study (STS 5974) to explore the the interplay between pedagogy, technology, and changing landscape of higher education.

One of my objectives is to develop a familiarity with and fluency in the (inter)disciplinary norms and literature affiliated with education/pedagogy/technology/new media. Since conceptualizing the idea, I have looked for articles, journals, books, and multimedia that fit such a project. Many of the journals, texts, website are relatively new to me, so I've spent time skimming archives and articles -- resulting in a handful of reading selections. Working alongside Matt Wisnioski (Assistant Professor, STS) and Shelli Fowler (Executive Director Graduate Development Programs and New Pedagogies), this new and exciting independent study focuses on readings that examine pedagogy, the culture of education, and new media with the primary purpose of establishing connections among the fields and topics.

Much of the inspiration for the independent study (and my dissertation project) stems from the conviction that contemporary pedagogies need to pay closer attention to digital technologies, but must do so in a critical manner. Moreover, most of that conviction developed from my duties with the Graduate Education Development Institute (GEDI) and Virginia Tech's Transformative Graduate Education (TGE) initiative. During my GEDI fellowship, I helped future faculty members better engage students through the critical use of technology (in both physical and online classrooms). As the current Global Perspectives Fellow (a component of TGE), I rely upon the effective use of social media and other Web 2.0 tools to promote graduate student teaching, professional development, and international collaboration. The various lectures, presentations, and workshops I have conducted on data management, digital pedagogy, LMS, new media, open access, etc. not only provide me with a valuable professional frame of reference, but also indicate my deep commitment to improving technology use in higher education (i.e. more conscientious, contemplative, contextually appropriate, etc.). In short, one of my primary interests centers on how pedagogy and technology can be better suited for the 21st century (and 21st century learners).

Still though, this independent study marks my first encounter with many of these sources. Therefore, I have grouped the selections into large categories and created overlapping themes to transition from one category into the next (i.e., culture - technology - education - pedagogy). By design, weekly topics are independent, but conjoined entities with a cohesive and cumulative purpose. Each week a handful of sources will help build a robust conceptual framework, increase thematic fluency, and promote scholarly discourse. To encourage informed and insightful discussion I will comment on the reading selections, incorporate reader comments, and include supplementary sources (i.e., print, video, etc.) as necessary. In the end, I aim to establish a narrative/argumentative thread that runs throughout the collection. Doing so will demonstrate the importance of such a project to the STS community and also suggest how educational technology and pedagogy can benefit from a STS type of approach (and vice versa - how STS can benefit from an educational technology and pedagogical perspective when considering technology use in the future of higher education).

All comers are welcome to join me for this fast-paced and enriching adventure.

An Adventurous and Cautionary Tale of (Non)Fiction: A Review of John Vaillant’s 'The Golden Spruce'

I recently finished reading John Valliant's The Golden Spruce for a graduate-level STS course at Virginia Tech. So immersed in the topic and jazzed about the writing style, I feel compelled to share my review with those beyond the classroom. Without further delay, what follows are my thoughts about an engaging book and important topic. Hopefully my words will foster some feedback and encourage critical thinking about our relationship with nature.

From the first pages of the acknowledgements section (where the author mentions the generous participation of wide assortment of people from various (and at times competing) groups: Native Americans, University of British Columbia (UBC) researchers, representatives from timber industry giant Weyerhaeuser, among various other government representatives and civilians), it is clear that John Vaillant’s text will cover a vast thematic terrain. In fact, the protagonist and the events leading up to the book’s climax require Vaillant to explore an expansive geographic and thematic space. 

Like any good historical narrative, Vaillant combines dynamic personalities with captivating adventure. The Krakauer-style runs throughout The Golden Spruce, but Vaillant’s text is not in any sense an imitation of the former’s prose style. Vaillant combines keen observation, historical accuracy, journalistic narrative all into a Jack London like plot--except everything in Vaillant’s book is painfully real. With a guide book like description, Vaillant vividly recreates the stunning beauty and stark danger of the Queen Charlotte Islands and surround areas. This treacherous areas off the coast of British Columbia “represent[s] a sort of existential intertidal zone--not just between the forest and the sea but between the surface and the spirit worlds.”[1]  In this space the cognitive dissonance that permeates the history of the timber industry is all too apparent. The challenge of reconciling conflicting ideologies is perhaps most starkly obvious in the life and actions of woodsman, timber surveyor, and eco-terrorist Grant Hadwin.

Vaillant relies upon a series of short and interconnected episodic chapters to lay the necessary foundation to support such an intricate narrative. While it might take awhile to arrive at the climactic destination, the importance of each chapter (and the various characters, scenes, and incidents contained therein) cannot be overlooked. Vaillant knew where he wanted to take reader and seems to have worked backwards to connect the beginning and end with a series of detailed anecdotes that propels readers through time, culture, and geography.

Within in the first ten pages of the book, Vaillant reveals the mysterious conclusion of Grant Hadwin’s misadventures. “The kayak and its owner, a Canadian timber surveyor and expert woodsman, had been missing--not for weeks, but for months. This man, it seemed, was on the run, wanted for a strange and unprecedented crime.”[2]  Such an early presentation leaves readers to wonder why this ecologically-attuned man would perform such an ecologically-destructive act. It is the subsequent search for Hadwin’s means and motive that The Golden Spruce explains the historical, cultural, ecological, and personal significance of Pacific Coast trees/timber and more specifically of K’iid K’iyaas (the Haida name for the golden spruce). Tracing a path of celebration, utilization, and deforestation from Mesopotamia through Europe and into New America, Vaillant describes the pivotal role wood has played throughout human history and evolution. Acknowledging the universal importance of wood (e.g. heat, light, shelter, clothing, weapons, etc.), Vaillant is quick to point out the particularly significant role trees and wood products have played in the formation of a distinct North American identity.

Image of K’iid K’iyaas courtesy of Bondi Resort Blog

Interweaving historical events and characters into a lengthy and detailed narrative of the places and peoples associated with the golden spruce, John Vaillant’s text is richly detailed with a broad, yet focused, purpose. With the golden spruce acting as a sturdy narrative trunk, Valliant’s book branches off into various extended historical episodes that explore humanity’s complex relationship with the environment. Perhaps the most significant critique of the book is the vast number of pages required to arrive at the pivotal moment when, under a cloak of darkness, Hadwin masterfully employs “a Humboldt undercut and...a series of ‘cookies’...leaving just enough holding wood so that the golden spruce would remain standing until the next storm.”[3]  However, it is the broad and branching narrative that allows Vaillant to achieve his analytical depth; which is where the true power of the text resides. Branching into histories of people, places, practices, and the associated technological and ideological developments, The Golden Spruce presents readers with a story about the dynamic connections among human beliefs, relationships, and actions. More importantly though, the book demonstrates the array of consequences that stem from such a complicated web of existence. The felling of K’iid K’iyaas is undoubtedly the focal consequence, but, in the grander scheme of human-environment relations, it is but one of many serious issues.

After nearly ninety pages, the story’s main human character is finally introduced by name. With examination of Grant Hadwin, the narrative begins to loop back and connect to the initial vision of the destroyed kayak and supplies scattered along the Mary Island shoreline. In his treatment of Grant Hadwin (more prolonged and in-depth than with other actors), Vaillant makes clear the cognitive dissonance that is quite common amongst loggers. Alongside the adoration for the dense and vast coastal forests and an intense desire to be outside, timber professionals are actively (and efficiently) participating in the deforestation and consequent elimination of the very areas and occupations they so covet. Vaillant points out the remarkable degree that Hadwin struggled to hold onto these competing ideals. In an industry where “awareness causes pain,”[4]  Grant Hadwin was hyper-aware and thus afflicted by intense pain of this double bind. Thus, he embarked on a quest to fell one symbolic tree in order to illuminate the implications of felling all the trees.

Vaillant points out the human tendency (regardless of culture, time, or place) to view resources in terms of their vastness and seemingly endless abundance. Unfortunately, any sense of humbleness quickly gives way to economic-oriented extraction. “That something as small as a man could have any impact on such a place seems almost laughable. In a geography of this magnitude, one can imagine how it might have been possible to believe that the West Coast bonanza would never end.”[5]  The Northwest Pacific sea otter trade is but one instance that exemplifies this all-too-common aspect of human nature,

“...despite its practical importance, and despite a necessarily keen sensitivity to the rhythms of the natural world, the West Coast Indians pursued this creature to the brink of extinction. In doing so, they demonstrated the same kind of profit-driven shortsightedness that has wiped out dozens of other species, including the Atlantic salmon, and, more recently, the Atlantic cod. It is an eccentric and uniquely human approach to resources.”[6]

With a rather balanced approach Vaillant addresses the consequences of such an approach, but does so without blaming the West Coast Indians. After all, people of all cultures have a long history of acting shortsightedly with regard to resource extraction. Vaillant aptly summarizes the universal cognitive dissonance as a situation where, “Once aboard a juggernaut like this, it appears suicidal to jump off--even if staying on is sure to destroy you in the end.”  [7] While the geography and resources have shifted, this mindset continues to run rampant. Therein lies the problem.

Readers of various ilks will find much to enjoy within John Vaillant’s The Golden Spruce. Whether interested in the history of logging, North American environmental ideologies, First Nations anthropology, labor issues, or looking for a historical crime drama, Vaillant’s book is timely, well-written, engaging, and ultimately an educational cautionary tale. While the author does not take any great effort to conceal his fondness for nature, he does a remarkable job presenting the complicated array of interests associated with golden spruce story. By extension, Vaillant causes readers to acknowledge the complexity inherent to all environmental issues. Never championing nor outright chiding Grant Hadwin, the author presents the main protagonist as a complex and misunderstood individual. In doing so, Vaillant reminds readers to take pause when examining the human-environment relationship. Very intelligent questions are hard to pin down in order to think about, and even harder to answer with any sense of sufficient comprehensiveness. Grant Hadwin’s actions were undeniably radical, but his indictment of the logging industry resonates with many people in the text (and likely with readers as well). We may never know what became of Hadwin, but we can (and should) know that the burden of cognitive dissonance is too much to bear. John Vaillant’s text gives us a reason to make a concerted effort to ask and answer the tough questions about human-environment relations.

1. John Vaillant, The Golden Spruce: A True Story of Myth, Madness, and Greed (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2005), 28.
2. Ibid., 28.
3. Ibid., 134.
4. Ibid., 98.
5. Ibid., 90.
6. Ibid., 44.
7. Ibid., 49.