This one really got me thinking. I couldn't quite figure out a way in which I would respond to these readings, so my best shot is at looking into the questions that it brings to my mind -- and try to ask some of them to her on Tuesday.
I remember the beginning of the semester, when we were discussing technology instruction a while ago. It became clear to me that, having the resources available to everyone doesn't necessarily make people perform equally -- or, at least, reduce the gap between less educated students. Quite the opposite: by introducing another layer of information between teachers and students, those who are able to deal with this extra layer -- educational software, for instance -- will perform better, and the limited time in classroom will not be enough to bridge the distance between middle class and economically disadvantaged students.
For me, it seems logical that, for a profession that requires intellectual skills that, technically, cannot be acquired while in college, but instead should have been cultivated from the early schooling years, those who received better education will be far more suited. The group in question is the upper middle class, mostly white and male. Affirmative action initiatives will bring black students to Engineering school, but will not provide them the intellectual abilities they should have to perform well. That being said, the numbers of white and black Engineers is not much different from the numbers of other social numbers, such as access to health services, jobs, etc etc etc.
But then, in the end, my first question to Slaton would be: are you in favor of affirmative action initiatives in engineering colleges?
Then, I guess my other question would regard the social role of engineers. She mentions the fact that engineering work is such a technical task that, regardless of who is doing it, the result is what it's mostly about. I would say that whoever designed some of the buildings in the 'banlieues' of Paris certainly did not grow up in one of them.
27 March 2007
19 March 2007
March 20 - Bowker & Star
In his book "The Meaning of Things", Simon Winchester tells the story of the Oxford English Dictionary and the fabulous work that gave birth to such a powerful lexicographic tool. Among other things, he mentions the perception of the Oxford's rector that the most complete and comprehensive work on the English language was a necessary tool to the desire from the British to expand their domination on the globe. In a way, we can say that he was both right in his perception and successful in his intent, even though he didn't live to see the dictionary complete. English is the number one language in the globe, in academia, and also in the technology sphere.
Bowker and Star, unlike Cortada, seem to view technological tools -- and the standards around them -- as rather political forces. I tend to agree with them. To some extent, Cortada's view is that of a historian, as well as a technical consultant. He has a pragmatic approach to technology, and by analyzing the developments around the creation of the computer and how that changed society and many economical activities, he devised an idea of the computer as being an apolitical tool that is good per se. In this week's readings, it's easy to perceive that, looking into a broader context, than cannot be so. Even the language used in the computing world is English. Programmers of any culture MUST possess a certain degree of knowledge of English, so that they can perform. This, much like the Oxford, helps to maintain the status of English as the world's most prominent languge.
That being said, one of my main questions is: if standardization and classification include values of a given culture, is that culture then gaining prominence over others? My first answer, based on the above paragraph, would be yes. The Dewey Decimal System, heavily anglo-centered, can be a good example of that. But I'd rather take this up with the authors.
Second: on page 132, the authors emphasize the need to look into historical units when looking into classification systems. Isn't this process also biased by both the researcher's background the the western scientific methods as well? For instance, the natives of Colombia and Peru do not understand and accept the private ownership of the land to this day. Centuries ago, there was no such thing, so it would be easier to understand the free displacement of tribes over the Andes and possible fights over the permanence in a certain area. Nowadays, it seems not logical to us, 'modern' citizens that this is possible. So, they way they related to the land seems wrong, immoral, disrespectful. But is it so? They classify land as something that is not owned by anyone, so they'll cross a fence without thinking they're wrong. And a researcher looking into the 'historical' unit of analysis of a given period in the past may fail to understand why this behavior happens today. Or else, he may use his own background as an educated researcher to infer that these natives haven't learned about the private ownership. Both explanations would be, then, wrong.
Bowker and Star, unlike Cortada, seem to view technological tools -- and the standards around them -- as rather political forces. I tend to agree with them. To some extent, Cortada's view is that of a historian, as well as a technical consultant. He has a pragmatic approach to technology, and by analyzing the developments around the creation of the computer and how that changed society and many economical activities, he devised an idea of the computer as being an apolitical tool that is good per se. In this week's readings, it's easy to perceive that, looking into a broader context, than cannot be so. Even the language used in the computing world is English. Programmers of any culture MUST possess a certain degree of knowledge of English, so that they can perform. This, much like the Oxford, helps to maintain the status of English as the world's most prominent languge.
That being said, one of my main questions is: if standardization and classification include values of a given culture, is that culture then gaining prominence over others? My first answer, based on the above paragraph, would be yes. The Dewey Decimal System, heavily anglo-centered, can be a good example of that. But I'd rather take this up with the authors.
Second: on page 132, the authors emphasize the need to look into historical units when looking into classification systems. Isn't this process also biased by both the researcher's background the the western scientific methods as well? For instance, the natives of Colombia and Peru do not understand and accept the private ownership of the land to this day. Centuries ago, there was no such thing, so it would be easier to understand the free displacement of tribes over the Andes and possible fights over the permanence in a certain area. Nowadays, it seems not logical to us, 'modern' citizens that this is possible. So, they way they related to the land seems wrong, immoral, disrespectful. But is it so? They classify land as something that is not owned by anyone, so they'll cross a fence without thinking they're wrong. And a researcher looking into the 'historical' unit of analysis of a given period in the past may fail to understand why this behavior happens today. Or else, he may use his own background as an educated researcher to infer that these natives haven't learned about the private ownership. Both explanations would be, then, wrong.
05 March 2007
March 6 - Greenberg
What a sweet reading!
The most compelling aspect of Greenberg's book is the way in which he touches on several aspects of the American society, en passant, without any pretense at creating the 'ultimate' theory about anything. At the same time, he offers a very broad and compelling insight on the history of a technological artifact. Really interesting reading.
Two things, in special, were very interesting to me: first, the description of the videophile community, and its resemblances with the communities on the internet. Second, the relationship between being a movie aficionado and a video rental store clerk.
The first is more a personal view than anything else. Feel free to disagree with that. What struck me in particular was the resemblance in terms of the psychological and social profiles of the videophiles and the internet chat users. Of course, the web allows for more distance and less information about one person than that kind of group did at that time. But the fact that videohiles were usually single males, 21 to 39, who rarely matched their own description of themselves was quite funny and interesting. Eventually, they would gather in those meetings, such as the one in Ohio, 1979. Also, they would talk to each other over the phone, and mail the 'video letters' in which they would show their homes. We do that nowadays with blogs and photologs!
The second, however, is very interesting in a social perspective. In the industrial world, workers lost their identification with the commodities the help produce. In the assembly line, for instance, one person tightens a couple of screws, and here comes the next pair. He doesn't identify himself with the final product. In the case of the video rental stores, that was somewhat subverted. The clerks were not only movie lovers who were amiable towards their customers, but also peopole who would enjoy watching movies all day long -- thus increasing their own knowledge about films. It was probably the closest a movie lover would get to being in the motion picture industry, and actually the last step before doing so (becoming a movie maker) for a lot of them.
The most compelling aspect of Greenberg's book is the way in which he touches on several aspects of the American society, en passant, without any pretense at creating the 'ultimate' theory about anything. At the same time, he offers a very broad and compelling insight on the history of a technological artifact. Really interesting reading.
Two things, in special, were very interesting to me: first, the description of the videophile community, and its resemblances with the communities on the internet. Second, the relationship between being a movie aficionado and a video rental store clerk.
The first is more a personal view than anything else. Feel free to disagree with that. What struck me in particular was the resemblance in terms of the psychological and social profiles of the videophiles and the internet chat users. Of course, the web allows for more distance and less information about one person than that kind of group did at that time. But the fact that videohiles were usually single males, 21 to 39, who rarely matched their own description of themselves was quite funny and interesting. Eventually, they would gather in those meetings, such as the one in Ohio, 1979. Also, they would talk to each other over the phone, and mail the 'video letters' in which they would show their homes. We do that nowadays with blogs and photologs!
The second, however, is very interesting in a social perspective. In the industrial world, workers lost their identification with the commodities the help produce. In the assembly line, for instance, one person tightens a couple of screws, and here comes the next pair. He doesn't identify himself with the final product. In the case of the video rental stores, that was somewhat subverted. The clerks were not only movie lovers who were amiable towards their customers, but also peopole who would enjoy watching movies all day long -- thus increasing their own knowledge about films. It was probably the closest a movie lover would get to being in the motion picture industry, and actually the last step before doing so (becoming a movie maker) for a lot of them.
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