Sunday, July 29, 2012

The Oral Tradition

Way back around 1980, I was working for a boutique real estate investment management firm in San Francisco when we decided to become part of the computer revolution and acquire a mini-computer which could provide a number of shared accounting, telecommunication and word-processing functions.

I quickly learned that some members of our small staff were able to master the use of the hardware and software much more easily than others.  And, that some of these employees were natural trainers and mentors for everyone else in the office.

My experience was and is not unique.  The respected computer industry magazine Datamation published a brief essay in their "Readers Forum" by another computer user at about that time.  Even though we were both in San Francisco, I never met the author, Mark Hall.  To this day, I know nothing about him.

But I did clip out his essay and have saved it all these years.

It is still relevant and suggests some strategies for teaching technical skills in any group of individuals with varying aptitudes, interests and motivations.  Allow me to share the wisdom of this bit of ephemera from thirty years ago:








ORAL TRADITION

Getting acquainted with a new computer system is never easy.  Different operating system commands, discrete hardware configurations, and unique program capabilities make moving from one computer to another quite a chore.  In our highly mobile corporate culture, continually learning new systems is a way of life, whether because of job changes or through the continuous upgrading to the most fashionable computer technology.

The responsibility for user education is often perceived to be in the hands of the data processing manager.  In some organizations this might hold true, but most data processing departments are too overburdened to take on the continuous task of user training.  In real life user education happens in the ongoing oral tradition of the work group.  Data processing departments occasionally offer classroom instruction in certain aspects of their hardware and programs, but seldom do these few opportunities coincide with the needs of new employees of those moving to new jobs within a computer system-dependent group.  Knowledge of how a system works is passed on by word of mouth in an ad hoc, informal manner.  New system users are taught on a need-to-know basis by those within their immediate circle.  Very often the knowledge passed along is incomplete and sometimes wrong.  But since the goal of the group is to get a particular task done, not to become systems experts, the oral tradition of the group establishes itself as the primary method by which understanding a computer system is promulgated.

It's not out of malice, stupidity, or incompetence that organizations do not extensively provide system instruction.  Rather, it is because the oral tradition within an organization is capable of communicating a seemingly adequate amount of information without the benefit of a highly structured format.

Non-technical people tell others what a program does, or how a modem works, or how to print a file, or how to install a printer ribbon.  Users inform each other about the vagaries of a given computer, its operating system, software, and peripherals because they know, better than the data processing overlords, what it is they want the information processing tools to do for them.  After all, it's their job they want to perform; the computer exists merely because management has deemed it to be of some value in accomplishing that job.  If pen, paper, and adding machines were the instruments of choice, employees would be directing each other to the supply cabinet.  As it is, the complex knowledge of high technology is primarily passed along in a low-tech manner.

It is well known that corporations in this country spend as much or more on education as colleges and universities.  Quite a bit of it centers on the latest technology.  But the classroom barrage employees receive seldom has any direct bearing on how they can use a system to get their work done.  A class on SNA (IBM's Systems Network Architecture), for example, will very likely cover the principles of logical unit types and give useful definitions for the alphabet soup of IBM's mainframe world, but it will probably do little more for the credit collections manager, market analyst, or order entry supervisor using an IBM host system.

The formal presentation of information through documentation and manuals is to be avoided at all costs.  In the mainframe world, users rarely receive printed material about the host computer.  If they did, it would be mostly incomprehensible.  Microcomputer users know first hand the frustrations of trying to comprehend the meaning and intent of the descriptions in these works of so-called prose.  Experienced PC users generally try a program before even cracking the binding of the accompanying documentation, not because they're so knowledgeable they can ignore it, but because they don't see the sense in starting off on a bad note.  In the UNIX community, where the system's complexity begs for guidance, the multi-volume documentation for the operating system is widely seen as an enigma bound in a mystery, something to be dodged by all but the most masochistic individual.

Structured and rational learning processes seem to collapse before the logic of information processing, and are replaced by casual conversations within work groups.  This situation should not really surprise anyone.  Oral traditions are the mainstay of economic cultures, even corporate cultures.  People learn by example.  In the Middle Ages, for instance, farmers taught one another how to manage agricultural land efficiently to produce bountiful crops.  Experience guided them through the complexities of crop rotation and animal breeding.

During the Renaissance, artisans explained their crafts, be it barrel making or paper making, to apprentices who learned over time by watching and listening, not by attending a technical school.  When the industrial revolution shook the economics of Europe and North America, capitalists on both continents depended upon the oral traditions within their factories to expand the skills of their workers.  Few bothered to train men in the art of making steel rails or locomotives; that knowledge was explained and shown workers by their peers.

In our so-called Information Age, things are not that different.  Human beings continue to teach by informal conversation and example, just as people still learn by asking impromptu questions that have meaning to them at the moment.

In other eras this would not pose a problem.  Medieval farmers were tied to the lord's land.  Artisans of the Renaissance stayed with their master craftsmen.  And in the factories of the industrial revolution workers strove to remain secure with lifelong jobs.  Even when migration did take place in these times, the oral traditions remained constant; learning how to fallow fields, hoop barrels, or blend steel carried relevance across boundaries and generations.  Continuity is vital to the successful transfer of oral knowledge.

Acceptance of common goals and attitudes also helps to smooth the interchange of information.  If one thing is lacking in contemporary industry, government, and education, it's consistency and a mutual adherence to values.  Workers feel less allegiance to their employers.  Job mobility among knowledge workers has never been higher.  Concurrent with the migration of the work force is the lack of a constant approach to the tasks of our information economy.  The mainstay of this information age, computers and communications, vary widely from place to place, or, in the argot of high technology, application to application.

According to some sources, up to 65% of the workers in the United States process information for their livelihood.  In the overwhelming majority of cases, this means they work with or use data provided by computers--about 50 million or 60 million people in all.  Now, as the readers of Datamation know, there are not that many data processing professionals in the world, perhaps the universe.  Still, at least that many people are using computers daily and the numbers are increasing.  And, although not so bountiful, the variety of computer systems on the market today compounds the phenomenal problem of user training.  It is little wonder, then, that the understanding and use of computers is accomplished through oral tradition.

Given the preponderance of oral traditions in computer-related jobs, it is critical for managers to take this into account when assessing the strengths and weaknesses of a group.  A department that is heavily dependent on computers to accomplish its goals must have an excellent oral tradition or the quality and quantity of work will suffer.

Oral traditions, despite their informality, are generally hierarchical.  Certain individuals are perceived to have a better understanding of folklore and culture because they can explain them in comprehensible ways.  The same is true for computer systems.  Some people know more, others transfer the information better.  For a manager, it is vital to identify the group's best teachers.  They may be more valuable than systems experts.

It is also important to learn what is being explained via a group's oral tradition.  Just because people like what they are hearing does not mean that what they are learning is true or adequate.  Myth is just as much a part of oral traditions as anything else.  Make certain that those who are passing on information have it straight.

As modern organizations rapidly advance toward information systems dependency, they often bypass effective instruction of computer use.  They only recourse people have is through the day-to-day, casual explanations available in a group's oral tradition.  Fostering and nurturing this informal mode of teaching leads to a more productive and profitable organization.  Having state-of-the-art technology may not get you anything if your people-to-people communications are in the Dark Ages.


This essay by Mark Hall of San Francisco originally appeared as a Readers' Forum
contribution to Datamation magazine sometime in the early 1980s.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Geekdom


I confess to being a closet geek.  Sure, I hold a degree in “Art & Design” and teach at an art school, but behind all that artistic creativity lurks a geek.
 
As long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by science and technology.  My dad showed me how to wire a simple doorbell circuit when I was about five years old, and by the time I was in fourth grade, I was building show-and-tell projects with switches and lights and bells.  I once even added a camera flash bulb -- bringing particular drama and excitement to the end of my presentation and a near heart attack to my teacher.

By junior high school, I had earned an amateur radio license and was building sophisticated electronic equipment.  I proudly won the City of Boston science fair for three years in succession (3rd, 1st and 2nd place, respectively.)  Prevailing on the lab technicians at M.I.T., I was able to scrounge enough parts to build a helium-neon laser in 11th grade.

When I entered college, I expected to become a physicist or electrical engineer.  But, exposed to a wide range of academic choices – and having a fascination with how things are built – a found my way into the department of architecture and urban planning.

This decision was shaped very much by Professor Michael Dertouzos, who later headed the M.I.T. Laboratory for Computer Science.   I was one of about three hundred students in Professor Dertouzos’ class and struggled with some of the material.  Following a mediocre performance on an exam, I met with Professor Dertouzos expecting the usual faculty pep talk to work harder and study more.  Instead, he typed my name into a teletype terminal and immediately had access to a wealth of information about me as an individual student along with my quiz scores and comments by his teaching assistants.  This was about 1965 and seemed absolutely amazing -- a non-engineering, human use of computers.

Professor Dertouzos suggested that I drop his course and go meet with his friend, Professor Stanford Anderson in the Department of Architecture.  Professor Anderson and I had a series of discussions which led to my graduating with a Bachelor of Science in Art and Design (BSAD) and, eventually, a Master of City Planning (MCP.)

My first job out of school was working for the City of Boston’s Public Facilities Department coordinating new school site selection and program planning with the Boston Public Schools.

Fast forward to about 1990 and the beginnings of the Internet.  I had been using commercial online services like Compuserve for my work in urban planning and investment management for a number of years.  I had been dialing into American Online since its beginnings.  But, in addition to these proprietary subscriber services, there was the Internet.  

Of course, everything on the ‘net was non-commerical.  One either connected via a college (.edu), the government (.gov) or a military agency (.mil).  Fascinated, I persuaded a grad student at M.I.T. to allow me to dial into his computer to be passed through to the Internet as part of the mit.edu domain -- and suddenly I had access to the resources of computers worldwide.

On the Internet, a group of students had cobbled together something called Internet Relay Chat. IRC, which was the precursor of America Online’s popular chat rooms, but was populated entirely by students,  “talking” to one another by keyboarding text back and forth in real time.  Among them was one group started by a faculty member of a university in Australia designed for the handful of non-students who just wanted to meet and talk with interesting people.  The group was called “30-plus” to discourage student participation.  In a magazine article on computer communication, “30-plus” was given the unofficial slogan “where nobody asks your major” – a reference to the opening line used frequently by the students meeting one another online.

Like amateur radio, the early internet provided a way to meet some very interesting people in places all over the world.  I still maintain friendships with a dozen or so people who I met in this context.

In 1994, the internet was opened up to private entities and the dot-com (.com) commercial domain came to be.  I was among the first to register a commercial domain, arctos.com, which came into being on April 28, 1994.  (AOL.com did not became part of the internet until over a year later on June 22, 1995!)

A couple of years thereafter, I briefly left my primary career in real estate investment management to head up operations for a major regional internet access provider.  For a year or so, I got to deal with everything from customer service to network operations.  The company at one time had about 30,000 dial-up and leased line customers along the east coast from Washington, D.C. to Portland, Maine.  It was eventually acquired by a larger national internet company – which, sadly, did not survive the “dot-com bust.”

country telecom lineman

I don’t find it particularly surprising that computers, telecommunications and the internet have become so much a part of everyone's daily life.  However, the rapidity of the shift from geek-culture to pop-culture has been incredible.


Where my ambivalence creeps in is seeing the early-adopters’ wonder and understanding of the technology being replaced by a purely consumer-driven need to buy into whatever is being marketed as the device or application du jour.   

And, sadly, I watch the non-proprietary openness of the original internet being replaced by closely-controlled commercial platforms like Facebook, Twitter and Apple’s “App Store.”

So I confess to being a geek.  And, borrowing an idea from Willie Nelson, I guess that my heroes have always been geeks.





Some Reflections on Course Structure and Design


Because Real Estate Fundamentals for Architects is a graduate level elective, the students are all there by their own choice and are usually motivated to learn the subject material.  Also, the class tends to be small – in the order of 6 to 20 students – and can be run as a seminar with lots of discussion among the students.

Unfortunately, the once-a-week schedule combined with vacations and holidays, makes it difficult to maintain continuity.  And, for me as a teacher, it also makes it hard to get to know the students by sight and to mentally connect each of them with their profiles, personalities and learning styles.

This is where some creative use of technology could be very helpful.

Right now, I make use of a class web site to post course-related materials.  It is divided into sections containing:

  • Presentations Used in Class
̶        Powerpoint Slides
̶        Videos
  • Assignments
̶        Assigned readings
̶        Problem Sets and Solutions
̶        Links to Online Instructional Video
̶        Final Project
  • Readings and Other Items of Interest
̶        PDFs of Relevant Articles
̶        Book Excerpts
̶        Audio and Video Podcasts
̶        Links to Useful Websites
̶        List of Library Resources

Although I update this site each week and add material as the course evolves, it is a one-way street: teacher-to-student.   The only back channel is if a student emails me a suggested addition.

I would like to explore other platforms, such as Google Docs, as a document repository.  I am not sure how they compare in added functionality.

■  ■  ■  ■  ■


Email, of course, is generally a one-to-one correspondence although I frequently answer  specific emailed student questions by replying to the entire class list when relevant.  
 
There has been no simple vehicle for students to engage one another outside of the classroom sessions, even though MassArt’s graduate program in architecture is small enough that most students see and talk to one another in their other classes and studios.  And, while there may be frequent informal contact between students, my impression is that most of it is either social or related to their core studio work and not animated discussions of real estate fundamentals.
 
■  ■  ■  ■  ■


Assuming that Real Estate Fundamentals for Architects continues to be offered as a graduate-level elective, my intention is to incorporate some technologies beyond web and email.

A blog, such as this one, would be an excellent start.  It allows me to post additional material in an informal style and to evoke shared responses in the form of blog comments from the students.  (Although I would prefer voluntary participation, I think that the students will be “assigned” to contribute comments each week and will be graded on participation.  Frequency and quality of blog comments will be used in grading, much like my grading of traditional class participation.)

The limitation of the blog is that its structure implies a certain formality to anyone wanting to make an initial post to initiate a topic.  I suppose that this is more a matter of style than structure, but it always seems that the person introducing a new topic begins by (gently) pontificating and then soliciting comments.   This give the blog a different feel to that of a mailing list, discussion forum, or other virtual environment where users frequently chime in with simple and mundane questions or comments.

And, while the blog or mailing list has the virtue of time-shifting interaction by allowing the participants to read and post on their own schedule, that virtue also proscribes the dynamic one-to-one or one-to-many immediacy of online chat.
 
■  ■  ■  ■  ■


Quick question-comment-response by way of instant messaging may be worth incorporating into the class.  I am thinking of AOL Instant Messenger (AIM) or the instant message facility provided by Skype.  There may be others which are even more suited to this kind of use.
I have been involved in using Internet Relay Chat (IRC) as a way to create virtual environments which function as gathering places where one can “drop in” to see who is around and to see if anyone can answer a quick question or engage in a discussion.  Many computer users groups maintain IRC channels to provide mutual support for specific software or hardware.  An example is the “Linux Lounge” hosted on the deviantArt server. 
This type of environment can be available informally 24/7 and can also be used for scheduled “gatherings” under the control of a moderator.

The Java-based Elluminate suite provides this kind of functionality with a lot of additional bells and whistles.  (In theory, the proprietary Elluminate software can be integrated into the open-source Moodle platform which MassArt uses.)  

There are other groupware conferencing programs which are worth exploring.  However, I am attracted to the simplicity of a basic chat platform over something more ornate which was designed to simulate a traditional classroom online.


■  ■  ■  ■  ■

 
My experience has been that students are exceptionally good at checking their email frequently.  However, I would like to explore the use of mobile text messages as a way of providing important ad hoc updates to my students.  For example, a change in meeting time or location or a reminder of an important due date.

I really do not want to implement “texting” as a mode of two-way communication because, although the transmission of a text is immediate, frequently it is inconvenient for either student or teacher to respond instantly.  And, this expectation of immediacy can lead to frustration.

■  ■  ■  ■  ■


I doubt that I would want my class to be structured as a totally online learning experience. 
My desire is to use only those online tools and techniques which will further my teaching objectives.   My experience has been that some tools, platforms and user interfaces are so “heavy” as to take on a life of their own and devour the primary teaching objectives of the course.  Both teacher and students find themselves confronted with technology which takes so much time to master and so much thought to use that the actual subject material begins to fade into the distance.

So, let me summarize what I’d like to accomplish:
  • Improve communication in the time between classes
  • Provide more interaction between students – and a way of monitoring that interaction for purposes of both facilitation and grading.

  • Continue to make class materials available online but improve the ease of maintaining of the materials, ease of access and seachability. 

  •  Increase my awareness of the students’ progress in understanding the course content.
 I believe that the thoughtful implementation of various technologies can go a long way toward achieving these objectives.  

Finally, I remind myself that not all of the students will be equally facile in written language or comfortable with engaging other students or me in real time online.  Many architectural students – and architects – are more comfortable with thinking graphically or even spatially.  And, while the skills needed to present one’s ideas to a group are considered essential to becoming a practicing architect, some students struggle with explaining their ideas in words rather than in drawings and models.

Overlay these concerns with the added complexity of working with students for whom English may not be their primary language and it becomes imperative that some alternative communications mechanisms must remain available.

And, as good as electronic mediated communication and classroom simulation can be, it still lacks the “bandwidth” of being face-to-face in a seminar setting where one can see facial expressions and body language – and where peer support can encourage participation.