The current image of consumer technology, personal computers and front-end applications, is one of simplicity; small boxes that house smaller components and microchips, departing further and further away from the hulking, esoteric, push-pin and vacuum tube monoliths of the past. This is, of course, ideal, as the growingly tech minded society compels its citizens to participate more wholly within its self-designated bounds.

 

 

But this picture belies the massive data swarm on the other side of the front end. We might only catch glimpses of it through our interfaces, but Big Data is consuming the world, for good and ill.

In their article “CRITICAL QUESTIONS FOR BIG DATA,” Danah Boyd & Kate Crawford characterize the concept:

We define Big Data as a cultural, technological, and scholarly phenomenon that rests on the interplay of:

(1) Technology: maximizing computation power and algorithmic accuracy to gather, analyze, link, and compare large data sets.

(2) Analysis: drawing on large data sets to identify patterns in order to make economic, social, technical, and legal claims.

(3) Mythology: the widespread belief that large data sets offer a higher form of intelligence and knowledge that can generate insights that were previously impossible, with the aura of truth, objectivity, and accuracy (663).

This interplay implies the Big Data approach to research and thought, where the potential of technology to facilitate, manipulate, process, and analyse torrents of data roots the belief that Big Data holds meaningful value in understanding the world thus constructed.

Sciencescape very much falls under the banner of this paradigm: it’s data set, the universe of scientific academic research and journal articles. I am intensely interested in the site, because of its attempt to organize, for our ease of access, a nebula that doubles in output every nine years (Van Noorden). To this end, the site claims to have indexed 24 million articles.

This number, in itself, is not impressive, as big academic indexes are common. Instead, the novelty arises from Sciencescape’s method of presentation and management. Here is a video from their About section:

From this clip, it appears as though Sciencescape wishes to establish a web of scholarly data through computational algorithmic methods to pick out key concepts such as subjects, authors, institutions, etc., as a means to order them in a way that exposes their topic, field of study, and impact. Big Data methodology for Big Data sets, Sciencescape works to provide meaningful orientation in the realm of science at a level that would seem too grand for more traditional approaches. The site offers free accounts to access to their database, so let us now explore the site’s aspirations in their implementation.

The way we will discover the functionality of the site is through a contemplation of the elements as they present themselves on the guided tour of Sciencescape. I do this not only to easily distinguish features of note, but as a means to peer into the minds of the site’s creators; I want to get an idea of what they think as valuable, novel, and unfamiliar, in their approach to Big Data analysis.

First, the overall presentation of the site before log-in feels very much like the now familiar startup interface (though the company’s headquarters is in Toronto).

 

 

Very professional and enticing toward potential users and investors alike, this web page contains all the standard links to the information about the project and those behind it. Clicking on the about tab allows a user to learn about the functionality of the site. Of particular note, the publishing partners sub-tab:

 

 

From the about tab, we are also able to access the guided tour, which allows us to bypass log-in.

PAPERS

The first stop is a page for an individual paper:

 

 

This particular web portal holds many interactive elements. For instance, we can follow the writers and journal, into the past and into the future when new publications are added. If the paper is available to us, then we can receive a .pdf. Other web 2.0 mainstays like “Add to Library,” “Broadcast,” and “Bookmark” also appear, as well as buttons to facebook, twitter, and email.

At the bottom of the page, there are lists of citations to and from this specific paper, but also “recommended readings” and “fields.” I am not certain as to what factors go into the recommendations, perhaps relevancies with authors and topics, but the “Fields” tab interests me the most. The list is populated with associated concepts: all of which expand through time, in order to encompass other articles.

FIELDS

The next main section of the tour presents an example of these “Fields.” Displayed is the timeline associated with AIDS research:

These field pages, I think, really display the greatest value in Sciencescape. This research timeline shows the sudden jump in scientific awareness of AIDS during the period of April-July 1983, when 825 citations mentioned it. The three months before show only 30 citations. This tool is immediately helpful in accounting for the history of the disease as science has seen it.

The other significant value on this page is the “Eigenfactor,” which Sciencescape uses to rate papers’ impact. In the field of AIDS research, we see that a paper published in May 1983 influenced others to the greatest amount.

The Eigenfactor is one of the defining characteristics of whole engine:

The Eigenfactor algorithms take into account not only the citations, but where the citations come from.  This is similar to how modern search engine algorithms rank websites.  A citation from a highly referenced journal, article or author carries more weight than one from a journal nobody has read (https://sciencescape.org/eigenfactor).

With this factor, scientists have a potential metric for significance that accounts for the entire web of data, rather than just explicitly referenced citations.

THE FINAL STOPS

The last two sections of the tour deal with the facilities in place to allow someone to keep up to date on her research. She can follow elements, such as journals, universities, authors, and fields. New papers associated with these concepts then appear in her Feed as they are published. Also, an extra level of organization exists; called “Streams.” these groups can be constructed by the follower, as a means to further link the items of which she follows. She can sort by these streams to focus her attention on one area of association.

Overall, the tour was promising to me, as an information scientist. Ideally, this specific conglomeration of social and semantic tools should increase relevancy and visibility over the extreme output of scientific research. Nevertheless, I worry about the implementation of such algorithms over such big data sets; I am not a bio-scientist, and so I cannot judge how well Sciencescape’s metrics work in coordinating fields and impacts. Certainly, more inquiry is needed, but the concepts that underlie the site are compelling.

 

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Works Cited

danah boyd & Kate Crawford (2012) CRITICAL QUESTIONS FOR BIG DATA, Information, Communication & Society, 15:5, 662-679,

Van Noordan, Richard “Global Scientific Output Doubles Every Nine Years.” News blog. Web. 30 Nov. 2015. <http://blogs.nature.com/news/2014/05/global-scientific-output-doubles-every-nine-years.html>

On the 10^th floor of Elmer Holmes Bobst Library lies a well-kept secret: the NYU University Archives. With only two full time staff, four part-time graduate assistants, and one part-time undergraduate student, the department is incredibly lean. This small staff supports roughly 800 unique patrons per year, with 55% of patrons affiliated with NYU, and 45% coming from outside the University. Though only formally created in the late 1970s, the department has been collecting materials since the University’s founding in 1831. The Archive is home to a range of collections, including items such as architectural renderings, administrative records, realia, busts, posters, audiovisual materials, mascots, and more. The Archive houses their collections onsite at Bobst and in a storage facility at Cooper Square, with 40% of the collection stored offsite in a warehouse upstate. Unlike a rare book and special collection reading room, the University Archives have a fairly flexible admission policy. Their reading room is open Monday through Friday, 9:30am to 5:00pm, by appointment only. However, this collection is not restricted to patrons with specific credentials (ie. academics), but instead is open to anyone with an interest in the Archive’s holdings.

Visiting NYU’s University Archives definitely brought up issues of access. The archives are open five days a week during normal business hours. A visit to the collection for anyone with a 9-5 weekday job would be impossible. Janet Bunde, the interim University Archivist at NYU, explained that the Archive hopes to extend their hours in order to better accommodate patrons who are only available on weekends. Digitization, of course, serves as a successful remedy to the challenges of physical access. However, a crucial issue facing many university archives and special collections, including the NYU University Archives, is the lack of funding available for digitization of records. NYU has only digitized an extremely small portion of their university archives, including 1,400 photographs, a small number of 35mm films, and a few documents. The collections that NYU has digitized have been made easily accessible through their digital finding aids, and are clearly organized and presented.

I applaud Bunde and her staff for their hard work to make their archives accessible to all, and it seems that they are making great progress toward opening the collection to an even broader audience. There are still, however, major issues across institutions as to priorities of funding. Where staff constraints affect such issues of access as reading room hours, digitization serves as the antidote. There is a one-time labor commitment of digitizing and uploading materials to a server, which results in inestimable hours of use by patrons. This includes, of course, the labor of website and database maintenance, but one could argue that this time is still minimal compared to the perpetual staff needs of operating a reading room, retrieving physical materials for patrons, and providing face-to-face reference support (which of course has it’s positives, as compared to digital reference support).

Another challenge that Bunde discussed was determining which materials are necessary to preserve. In a university as large as NYU, there is a significant amount of material that must be sorted through and culled on an annual basis. As the university is able to bolster its digitization efforts, issues of quantity will become even more pressing. As Roy Rosenzweig states, “the simultaneous fragility and promiscuity of digital data requires yet more rethinking –about whether we should be trying to save everything, who is ‘responsible’ for preserving the past, and how we find and define historical evidence” (Rosenzweig, 2003). This will become a challenge that Bunde and her staff will have to grapple with as they are able to increase their digitization efforts.

Ultimately, I was very impressed with the NYU University Archives’ commitment to open access for all. Bunde and her staff created a welcoming environment for researchers who may not be regular patrons of university special collections. As Joan Schwartz and Terry Cook state, “archives –as records –wield power over the shape and direction of historical scholarship, collective memory, and national identity, over how we know ourselves as individuals, groups, and societies” (Schwartz & Cook, 2002). I believe that NYU has worked to create an archive that is inclusive of the many dialogues of NYU and the surrounding community, both historically and in current day. I was impressed with their commitment to functioning as an archive for the community, and I look forward to seeing what types of materials their future digitization projects bring to light.

References

Schwartz, Joan, and Terry Cook. “Archives, Records, and Power: The Making of Modern Memory.” Archival Science 2.1-19 (2002): 2-13. Print.

Rosenzweig, Roy. “Scarcity or Abundance? Preserving the Past in a Digital Era”. The American Historical Review 108.3 (2003): 739. Print.

 

Two ideas: Marshal McLuhan’s idea of mediums as extensions of ourselves, as technical designs “amplify or accelerate existing processes” so the pace and scale magnifies, i.e. railroads and cars enlarging the human function of movement. Essentially, our central nervous system has manifested itself with electric technology, and yet it lays itself bare to overt mechanization. This notion couples well with Walter Benjamin’s idea that the product of mechanization lacks the presence of space & time, therefore, authenticity. The mechanical reproduction of a work of art is depreciated, just as a landscape cannot transfer its unique aura to a picture. These two ideas are subtly entangled within the contention between bound books & e-books.

Convenience is the glory of our current era, and e-books are a product of this value; after all, a whole library is accessible from one gadget with web features, PDF downloads, and a light weight design. Many college students rejoice as they no longer have to lug around hefty textbooks with lofty prices, sparing their backs and bank accounts. Moreover, e-comfort rubs our technophilic itch, efficiently slicing away analog drudgery. So why would a respected professor of journalism have e-books banned from her classes? Quite simply, because printed books are a “better interface” for seminar discussions; everyone works off the same page, otherwise students fiddle away class time with battery issues, interface hiccups, and searching relevant quotes. Also, using the same textbook contributes to overall class cohesion as discussions can concentrate naturally without e-distractions, bolstering the dialectical process of face-to-face interaction, which is a prime value of traditional education. It’s also reassuring to know the classes’ undivided attention is shared, whereas electronics allows one to wander. The ability to e-wander breaches the unwritten rule of classroom etiquette, that is, being present without escape. This exemplifies the difference between mediums: books are based on communication between minds, and e-readers are based on efficiency and amusement.

Another example of e-distraction comes from a recent study of middle school students. It revealed that those who read e-books retain less compared to students reading the same content in print. The e-reading students were unable to retell what they read. Researchers believe the “flashy gimmicks, fun interactive designs and ability to wander from the text distract readers from the task of actually, well… reading.” The message is filtered through the medium, a bound book is an object whose sole purpose is to be read. An opinion piece from Publishers Weekly echos this e-deficiency as the snarling author quickly connects technophilia with the degeneration of our minds, as we can no longer read (let alone write) War & Peace type literature because of our chronic scatterbrains induced by e-readings (blogs, tweets, emails, text messaging etc.). He believes we are straying from the supple & subtle mind that gave us the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, and Modernism, “because our brains can no longer think beyond a tweet,” nor read beyond one as well.

Moreover, there are issues of freedom involved as well. Richard Stallman, a software engineer and founder of the GNU project believes e-books are a “step backwards” from printed books. Every advancement in technology furthers corporate infringement upon our freedoms, specifically privacy and ownership. For example:

– anonymity is impossible as user identification is required.

– instead of ownership, identified users sign a contractual agreement for restrictive licensed access.

– the format on e-book devices is proprietary, therefore restricted to specific software

– you can’t borrow books as traditional lending is not allowed without a gauntlet of red tape

– your e-book can be deleted without notice

Stallman simply believes companies should respect the freedoms of individual citizens, which of course is possible, and he posits solutions: offer authors direct payment from e-book users, and/or distribute funds based on author’s popularity. But we needn’t forgo rights that were vehemently fought for in the name of commercial convenience and e-amusements. After all, quantitative forces are behind e-readers, as profit and general statistics of readership are its root value, but this is strictly a mercantile approach that hardly considers qualitative factors that are the source of humanity’s greatness; a certain ineffability that is intrinsic to the qualities of being alive. These values are being brushed aside, along with privacy and ownership, for e-novelties.

Progress in science and tech inherently has the new superseding and replacing the old. Whereas the excellence achieved in the arts does not die with time, but continues breathing and enriching future generations.

Perhaps this face-off between e-readers and books is merely a consequence of the notion of progress, which is inseparable from science and technology, but is inappropriately applied to the arts. Progress in science and tech inherently has the new superseding and replacing the old. Whereas the excellence achieved in the arts does not die with time, but continues breathing and enriching future generations. A great work of art may inspire others to supersede it, but it’s impossible to replace it; for every influential work of art there is a barrel of books that critique, copy, satirize, adapts and reinterprets the work, most of which falls into the shadows of obscurity.

For literature specifically, the bound book is the best home for the life of ideas. Ideas that are revealed and preserved in words. Think of the Gutenberg bible on display at the NYPL main branch, you will never see an e-book displayed in such a way, even if it’s an exact replica of an incunabulum. The uniqueness of this specific book is inseparable from its material, thus its aura is irreproducible. The physical object is part of the artistry, authenticity and experience, something which e-readers are not capable of nor made for. Yet they are made for harnessing the prolific data stream, and e-everything is ushering us into our profane future without the aura of our traditional past, as it’s too slow, esoteric, and mythopoetic to serve the current mercantile/quantitative/vaudevillian value systems. However, every raging river has its side streams and quiet creeks, and this is where the literati will continue to thrive. And yet, there is a bigger question lurking about: to what degree are we willing to mediate being alive through a screen?

Recently, I visited 3 libraries, on a tour of makerspaces in Northern New Jersey: Parsippany Public Library, West Caldwell Public Library, and Hillsdale Public Library. Parsippany’s makerspace was strictly high-tech (a scanner, Mac laptops, a laminator, a scan and cut machine, and a high-quality printer). Every piece of technology was purchased with funds from a $10,000 grant that was awarded by the New Jersey Library Association. The Head of the Teen Services Department informed me that most of their patrons use the makerspace to create “unique greeting cards.”

West Caldwell Public Library calls their $12,000 worth of audio recording equipment (packed away in boxes) a “makerspace,” as they work toward a community-based oral history project (participation by invitation only). This space was also made possible by a grant, from the Rotary Club of the Caldwells (RCC), a local association.

Then, there was Hillsdale Public Library, with the most effective implementation, the highest engagement, and, as you may imagine, the most inflated funding. Their makerspace includes the following:

• High Tech:
  o Makerbot Replicator 2 (~$2,000)
  o Button Maker (~$300, Gifted from The Friends of the Library)
  o 27” iMac (~$1,800 plus accessories: Yeti USB microphone by Blue ~$115, JVC headphones ~$50, Logitech USB HD camera ~$100, and loads of expensive software, Gifted from The Friends of the Library)
  o Singer Curvy Sewing Machine (~$200)
  o Brother PE-770 embroidery machine (~$700)
  o Silhouette Cameo Cutter (~$300)
  o 4 Premium LittleBits Kits (~$150/each)
•  Low/No Tech:
  o Tools: scissors, razor blades, needle nose pliers, wire cutters, rulers, cutting mats, screw drivers, glue guns, paint brushes, Rainbow Looms.
  o “Connectors”: Elmer’s glue, glue sticks, duct tape, masking tape, scotch tape, paper clips, magnets, wire, soldering irons, string, fishing line, yarn, thread.
  o Other: paper, cardboard, origami paper, corks, ping pong balls, golf balls, wood craft sticks, springs, fabrics, metal bottle caps, plastic bottle caps, polymer clay.

Most of these supplies were made available via the efforts of The Friends of the Library organization, who also donated funding to develop elaborate “Makercamps,” as well as library furniture, museum passes, all summer reading programs, and more.

Throughout the afternoon, I watched an elementary-aged child 3D print a superhero emblem ring, and an elderly woman make button magnets out of her watercolor paintings (under a sign that read, “Express Your Quirky Personality”). I was inspired by the creative energy, but I was also trying to imagine how a similar space would be achieved, and made useful, by urban, low-income areas like my own. It would not be possible for my community to pool seemingly endless funds from an organization like The Friends of the Library, and anyway, they have far different needs, and objectives, than those expressed through the creation of do-hickeys on a $2,000 3D printer. It just did not seem realistic.

Looking for guidance on how to adapt Hillsdale’s model to suit my own library, I asked David J. Franz (Director) about their policies regarding the theft of materials. He curtly said, “What do you mean? We’re giving this stuff away!” I was confused, but supposed that he was referring to supplies such as paper or, glue, and so, gave the example of LittleBits, of which they had several kits sprinkled across a table, any of which would be rendered useless with the absence of one, tiny piece. He stopped to think, and said, “Theft just isn’t a problem for us. I guess that you would have to consider your community.” Exactly. Once, my library tried to set-up a “Bookmark Contest” station, and within 8 hours, every pen, pencil, marker and cardstock template disappeared, without a single entry in the box. Now, my point is not that our patrons steal; my point is that I was struggling to imagine this type of makerspace in our community.

While on the bus (full of 30 white, female librarians… but that is a different blog post), riding between each library, I was reading Larry Diamond’s “Liberation Technologies,” and thinking about how publicly accessible technologies present new possibilities for social action. Diamond writes, “Liberation technology enables citizens to report news, expose wrongdoing, express opinions, mobilize protest, monitor elections, scrutinize government, deepen participation, and expand the horizons of freedom” (2010). Some examples of this “liberation technology” resemble offerings within makerspaces, including digital cameras, audio recording equipment, access to YouTube, etc. Also, makerspaces have emerged, and are utilized, in the same authoritarian states discussed by Diamond, including China. Knowing the larger realm of possibilities for makerspaces, and inspired to learn more about how they may be put to use in other areas, I did some reading about their implementation in China.

In 2010, China’s first makerspace, XinCheJian, was established, with 6 more to follow over the next 6 months. Each included 3D printers, laser cutters, and other machinery, but the similarities to Hillsdale Public Library stop there. Co-founder, David Li, says that, within XinCheJian, and even on the streets in the surrounding city, there is

“a real-dealing with e-waste. Not just this elite form where people promote reuse, because they want to feel good about themselves purchasing a new phone every 6 months. Here, people reuse on a daily basis discarded parts and fix broken machines rather than buying new stuff. It’s making out of necessity. It’s open source hardware in practice. This is different from the West where open source hacking only exists in theory. Here, the actual maker in the factory is involved, the workers, the repair guy on the street” (Lindtner, 2015).

In stark contrast to XinCheJian, Hillsdale Public Library’s “recycled” or, “re-used” materials were in such great quantity, that it did not seem likely that many of them were actually amassed via second-hand means (ex. thousands of clean popsicle sticks were considered recycled materials, and the metal bottle caps were all clean, seemingly unused, with a unbranded, silver finish). At XinCheJian, 9-year-old boys (Hillsdale’s largest group of makerspace users) are not connecting LittleBits to power a tongue-wagging teddy bear; these are adult innovators with access to industry, and a manufacturing mindset, born out of Chinese tradition. At XinCheJian, for example, a recent project was the construction of an aquaponic planting system, following a design that could be easily put into production.

This difference goes beyond XinCheJian; some driving forces behind China’s makerspace trend are two open-hardware companies, DFRobot and Seeed Studio. Both of these businesses focus on bringing China’s manufacturing culture into the hands of hobbyist makers and start-up companies. Compare this to Arduino and MakerBot Industries (businesses behind the U.S. maker scene), which focus on “hobbyist production, prototyping, and tinkering” (Lindtner, 2015).Lindtner emphasizes “that DFRobot and Seeed Studio, in taking manufacturing itself seriously as a source of knowledge and expertise, did not only develop a niche business but also performed important cultural work” (2015). With the introduction of these two companies, and the emergence of makerspaces in China, China’s reputation for cheap, low-quality production was suddenly challenged by expert-level innovation.

Clearly, regardless of physical location, the impact of a makerspace requires more than a button-maker, and a colorful entryway. As Diamond writes, “It is not the technology, but people, organizations, and governments that will determine who prevails” (2010). Despite having very similar technological access, makerspaces in the U.S. and China, have different cultural objectives, and thus, different outcomes, which illustrates the fact that the relevance of a makerspace relies on the development of a community, rather than furious grant-writing to acquire iMacs.

References

Diamond, L. (2010). Liberation technology. Journal of Democracy. 21 (3), 69 – 83. Retrieved from https://lms.pratt.edu/pluginfile.php/514973/mod_resource/content/1/21.3.diamond.pdf

Lindtner, S. (2015). Hacking with Chinese characteristics: the promises of the maker movement against China’s manufacturing culture. Science, Technology, & Human Values. 40 (5), 854 – 879. DOI: 10.1177/0162243915590861

Algorithms are everywhere. Of particular interest, algorithms that are used “to select what is most relevant from a corpus of data composed of traces of our activities, preferences, and expressions” can be extraordinarily powerful tools.[1. Gillespie T. (2014). The relevance of algorithms. Media Technologies: Essays on Communication, Materiality, and Society. Eds. T. Gillespie, P. Boczkowski, and K. Foot. Cambridge: MIT Press, 167–194.] Such algorithms determine advertisements seen online or received in the mail, posts that appear prominently on social media feeds, even hiring and firing decisions. They impact innumerable aspects of many people’s daily lives. And, as one recent post from the University of Oxford’s “Practical Ethics” blog noted, the way algorithms “function and are used . . . whether in computers or as a formal praxis in an organization – matters morally because they have significant and nontrivial effects.” [2. Sandberg, A. (2015, Oct. 6). Don’t write evil algorithms. (Web log post). Retrieved from: http://blog.practicalethics.ox.ac.uk/2015/10/dont-write-evil-algorithms/.]

Many algorithms provide a great benefit to our society, helping human beings to organize and simplify a constantly-expanding and complicated universe of data. In some situations, however, they can also have adverse and inhumane effects – for example, by invading individuals’ privacy or producing results based on incomplete or otherwise flawed data. Accordingly, all involved parties – information technology innovators who create algorithms, corporations that make use of algorithms for business gain, technology consumers whose use of algorithm-enhanced products has catalyzed the present ubiquity of such systems – have an obligation to think about and develop ethical approaches to the current landscape. How do we even begin to approach this enormous task?

In March 2015, the Centre for Internet and Human Rights and the Technical University of Berlin hosted a conference on “The Ethics of Algorithms,” at which academics and technology professionals from the United States and Europe grappled with these very issues. A background paper from that conference identified a subset of algorithms that are of the greatest ethical concern, and the specific attributes that require heightened scrutiny: “complexity and opacity, gatekeeping functions [determining ‘what gets attention, and what is ignored’], and subjective decision-making.” [3. Center for Internet and Human Rights.  (March 2015). The ethics of algorithms: from radical content to self-driving cars. (Final draft background paper). Retrieved from https://www.gccs2015.com/sites/default/files/documents/Ethics_Algorithms-final%20doc.pdf.]

That same paper also proposed a handful of appropriate regulatory responses to problematic algorithms, weighing the pros and cons of each. This provides an excellent starting point for any discussion of the ethical challenges of algorithms.

The first proposed response is “algorithmic transparency and notification.” Transparency in algorithms is a challenging proposition – in part because most algorithms are so complex that lay people would not be able to understand them even if they were opened up to scrutiny. In addition, many programmers and corporations keep the secrets of their algorithms close to the vest and would not give them up without a colossal fight. While some openness is a fantastic goal and is necessary for a dialogue about ethical algorithms, on its own this is not a realistic or adequate solution. An alternative to full transparency, however, is “notification,” which envisions more consumer engagement with the manner and extent of data provided to algorithms: “Consumers can demand for control over their personal information that feeds into algorithms which might have a considerable effect on their lives. This includes the rights to correct information and demand their personal information to be excluded from the database of data vendors.”

A second response, “algorithmic accountability,” asks that we question how and why algorithms work as they do: “causal explanations that link our digital experiences with the data they are based upon [which] can empower individuals to better understand how the algorithms around them are influencing their life-worlds.” Indeed, the conference paper describes investigations as to how algorithms produce certain outcomes, even if such investigations do not create a definitive explanation, as an “essential precondition for the public scrutiny of algorithms.”

Finally, the paper approaches the possibility of “governments directly regulating an algorithm,” with regulation of algorithms in the financial sector as one appropriate example. This regulatory approach becomes more complicated, however, if applied to government regulation of search engines: “even deciding what would be in the ‘public interest’ is a complex and contested question, exactly because there is no right answer to how [a search engine] should rank its results.” Such regulation would be controversial and difficult (if not impossible) to manage. It could also serve to discourage innovation in the development of algorithms, at a time when we should foster creativity and flexibility among programmers.

None of these regulatory responses is perfect. What this discussion does make apparent, however, is that algorithms are valuable yet imperfect tools and, especially as they become increasingly central to our lives, they should be scrutinized through a lens of fairness and ethics.  

Indeed, as the previously referenced University of Oxford blog post puts it: “We cannot and should not prevent people from thinking, proposing, and trying new algorithms: that would be like attempts to regulate science, art, and thought. But we can as societies create incentives to do constructive things and avoid known destructive things.”

Some awareness of the impact of algorithms on humanity, both positive and negative, can go a very long way, along with consideration of our ethical obligations as the drivers of the algorithm environment. The most important thing is to not fall into a trap of thinking about algorithms – as autonomous as they may appear when designed skillfully – as something independent of their human creators, for which humans do not bear full responsibility.

As Tarleton Gillespie recommends in the article The relevance of algorithms, we “must unpack the warm human and institutional choices that lie behind these cold mechanisms . . . to see how these tools are called into being by, enlisted as part of, and negotiated around collective efforts to know and be known.” Such inquiry can help us make ethical choices about our use of algorithms. When used thoughtfully, algorithms can be an extraordinary tool for the common good.

Towards the beginning of her piece “Feminine Theories of Technology,” Judy Wajcman argues that the culture and history of Western society dictates all technology is gendered male. Initially shocked, I thought it was too extreme until I realized how difficult it was to think of female technology. It’s almost impossible to think of things that aren’t socially gendered (traditionally domestic appliances like an iron or an electric mixer) unless you widen technology’s definition. Expanding it to mean ‘useful tool that helps fix a problem or aid in difficulty’ allows for much more leeway and thinking of women’s technologies becomes a little easier.

Even though Wajcman writes “identification between technology and manliness is not inherent in biological sex difference,” the only technologies I could think of that could absolutely be considered as female were tied to the specific things that make women physically different from men. Bras can be considered technology, and certainly menstrual products like tampons and pads. Birth control is another good example of a ‘female’ technology, especially with its contentious history of being moderated by men. Finally, I landed on the vibrator, which also has a colorful and perhaps controversial history.

In the 19th century, many women suffered from a particularly vague condition called hysteria whose varied symptoms amounted to a general irritability. Doctors would alleviate this condition by manually stimulating a woman’s genitalia until she reached ‘paroxysm,’ which was supposed to temporarily cure all hysterical symptoms. Of course paroxysm turned out to actually be orgasm, and women continually returned to their male doctors to get relief from their ‘condition’ of sexual frustration. Unfortunately doctors grew tired of manually stimulating women all day, so they elected to invent a device that would mechanically do it for them- the first vibrator. For a while these were legitimate medical devices, but as soon as the secret was out about women gaining pleasure from them they became an unmentionable subject. “Women’s power, women’s culture and women’s pleasure are regarded as having been systematically controlled and dominated by men, operating through patriarchal institutions like medicine,” Wajcman writes. The moment women claimed vibrators as useful devices for themselves, they were invalidated and became taboo.

Vibrators were not socially embraced again until the late 1990s, when a Sex and the City episode revolved around a particular toy called the Rabbit. If prim Charlotte York could use a vibrator, then what was to stop everyone else? Today vibrators are more common than ever, but still considered a risqué topic. Advancements in technology mean that today’s vibrators can be small, quiet, and discreet but still pack the punch buyers are looking for. I headed over to the Museum of Sex hoping there would be a good retrospective on the history of vibrators and to check out the selection in their gift shop. Sadly, the museum’s permanent collection is on rotation and I’d missed the exhibit on vibrators, but their Spotlight gallery did feature a small exhibit on sex machines.

The focal point of the room is the Fuck Bike, which is basically exactly what it sounds like – a bike with a bunch of parts cobbled together that make a dildo attachment piston back and forth when you pedal. Since the pedaling seat and the pistoning apparatus are positioned over four feet apart, this invention struck me as more voyeuristic than actually “for women,” so I figured I would focus on the accompanying photographs of other sex machines and their inventors. Very quickly I found out that all of the inventors were men, the photographer who interviewed them was a man, and the focus was on the ingenuity of all these creators that made such wonderful devices.

Only one woman, Jessy, was present in the collection – photographed sitting naked in front of one of the machines and credited as “machine user.” I thought this was really telling and disheartening, and a clear illustration of “the gendered nature of technical expertise.” Was there not one woman who had designed a machine for herself? Jessy was quoted saying she liked using the particular machine she was pictured with because she had “total control” and it was “all about [her],” although there’s still a performative residue left over as she talks about her experience that was made possible by a man who didn’t even have to touch her, and is enjoyed by many men free to ogle her and use her story for themselves. Even though the physical experience belongs to the machine user, I’d say home built sex machines are actually men’s devices and not women’s. How exactly is crouching in front of a 6-foot long bike in order to get an orgasm convenient for a woman?!

Annoyed, I went down to the museum’s gift shop to take a look at the toys they had for sale. The environment had a loud, fun kind of vibe, with blasting R&B club hits and relaxed, trendy looking employees that gave visitors knowing nods and looks. Out of the 5 or 6 staff members present in the tiny store space, there were only two female employees, one who was laughing and giggling loudly at seemingly everything her male co-worker said to her. It was like all the employees were very into the edginess of working at the Museum of Sex and not about actually educating anyone about its social implications or history.

Hyper aware of all the men in the store, I looked at all the pink and purple vibrators and compared them to the boxes of lubes, phallic sleeves, and condoms for sale. Some of the items, like handcuffs, were technically unisex but showed bound women on the packaging so I counted them towards men. Most of the men’s items were easily accessible, but the products for women required interaction – the vibrators were set up as display only, so in order to actually learn about a device you’d have to ask an (male) employee about it. After looking at the huge selection of lube for too long, I asked an employee whether the selection of items available were mostly for men or women. He misunderstood my question and proceeded to very concisely explain my own anatomy to me and how the selection of lubes would work with it. I corrected him, asking, “Do you think there are more products here in general to be used by men or to be used by women?”

“Oh, pff, women, definitely. All we have for men is this, this, and this,” he pointed to the rows of packaging in the store. “And the condoms. EVERYTHING else is for women.”

Needless to say, I left feeling even more annoyed. Hoping for a more positive experience, I headed to Babeland, a sex toy store catered to women. Though smaller than the museum store, the products here were better organized and it was a much more relaxed environment. There were two women working, and after about a minute one of them came over to me and asked in a relaxed but welcoming way if I needed any help. This was already eons better than the loud, flashy museum store with men hovering around waiting to ‘educate’ female shoppers. In addition to a wide selection of supportive pillows, strap-on harnesses, stand-to-pee devices, and vibrators, Babeland also had signage around their store promoting inclusion and safety when experimenting with sex. Best of all, there was even a vibrator called the Eva that proudly stated it was designed FOR women BY women; something I hadn’t been able to find all day! I admitted to one of the employees that I was there to write a paper and was happy to see something like it since everything I had seen earlier had a male bent to them. “You mean the packaging?” she asked. “Yeah, that’s a Thing. Let me know if you want to see any of our boxes!” Babeland wasn’t a utopia of products designed exclusively by women, but the fact that they even sold more than one item created by women seemed revolutionary. I left shortly after and was encouraged to return and take advantage of their student discount.

It’s almost impossible to write about sex toys without acknowledging the obvious gendering of the toys and how they are used, but the disparity between male and female technologies is put into stark relief in this field. The fact that products made for women have actually been designed by men seems even more insidious than usual. Anything relating to a woman’s sexuality (or inherently female anatomy) is considered gauche unless a man moderates it, and the first step to rectifying this is dropping the 19th century taboos in order to fully adopt Wajcman’s feminist perspective on technology. We’re slowly getting there, with the “feminine media” of the internet giving many women access to liberating technologies that change how they view their bodies. Online sales are still frustrating because of their discretion, but hopefully rises in this ‘secret’ arena of demand will encourage more of a movement into the public.

Sources

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2012/sep/07/how-the-vibrator-caused-buzz

http://wiki.medialab-prado.es/images/4/4b/Wajcman_Feminist_theories_of_technology.pdf

 

 

For the past 3 years, I have worked on several digitization projects in two special collections libraries. The two libraries take vastly different approaches to book digitization especially; these differences reflect of course large differences in their projects’ funding, and differences in workplace cultures, but I also believe that they express a difference in the philosophy and purpose of digitization. Beginning with these examples, I’d like to explore them more deeply and apply to them the framework laid out in “W(h)ither Preservation,” an essay by Michele Cloonan.

The first library I worked for wanted books scanned as whole objects–scans were of spreads of pages, blank pages were included, spines were scanned, images were cropped to show a sizable margin around the edge of the book pages. I remember being trained on the book scanner, and my manager expressing her desire for future people who had never seen a book before to be able to understand what they were like from these scans.

The library where I work now scans books with the philosophy of many other libraries, a style best known on Google Books: left and right pages are separated into separate images, spines and blank pages are not scanned, and the scans are cropped close to the text on the page, without showing the edge of the book or much of the page’s margins.

“When is the object part of the information?” asked Michele Cloonan in her essay, “W(h)ither Preservation?” invoking the assumed divide between books content, and the books form. These two libraries different approaches reflect different answers to this question. Neither library displayed digital images with high enough quality for a viewer to deduce the type of paper used, or binding stitch of the book; both also depicted books as flat surfaces (not employing 3D scanning, obviously). What is information to the first library–the structure, wholeness, and look of a book–was not necessarily important enough information to be digitized for the second library.

Still, the choices made by most library staff in book scanning enable books to become text-searchable by Optical Character Recognition (OCR), which reads the printed text on a scanned book and transforms it into searchable text into the copy. OCR cannot currently process handwritten text, nor can it really distinguish between erroneous marks and what is supposed to be text; edges of books, stitching, and other high contrast areas can confuse it, and thus they’re best cropped out when OCR is employed.

At the end of the day, in the case of most digital libraries scanning books, one ends up with an a nice, neat, OCR’d PDF that bears little resemblance to the book that has been scanned, but looks tidy and readable (on the high-quality monitor used for image editing). Information in this case means simply text, textual content, and illustrations. There are almost an infinite number of ways that a PDF is not like a book, and cannot reproduce all of the information a book holds.

Walter Benjamin explores the way that photography and film can “put the copy of the original in situations which would be out of reach for the original itself,” in his essay “Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”. This is the intrinsic idea of book digitization, of course. Creating text-searchable documents out of standard books that can be sent and shared in the blink of an eye are features that are totally beyond the capabilities of physical books, and that speed and search power is now  the standard by which information is shared.

“By making many reproductions it substitutes a plurality of copies for a unique existence. And in permitting the reproduction to meet the beholder and listener in his own particular situation, it reactivates the object reproduced. These two processes lead to a tremendous shattering of tradition which is the obverse of the contemporary crisis in the renewal of mankind.” Benjamin’s observations on the analog photography of artworks is just as relevant to the digital photography of books: scanned books no longer look or act like unique physical books. They can be text searchable, and can potentially exist everywhere at once, but contain little reference to their former form (bound paper).

“Digital documents force us to preserve them on their own terms,” writes Cloonan, and we can perhaps begin to see digital preservation as something other than the sequestering of digital files for an imagined future where the original physical books don’t exist. I wonder then if we can begin to think of scanned books in a digital library as a kind of hybrid information form, transforming the content of analog books into a powerfully sharable and searchable digital form. It is perhaps wisest to operate under the assumption that digital files are just as perishable as physical books, if not more, as Cloonan and others point out. It’s too much to assume that these digital files will continue be usable and accessible by the time most books have perished, and be used as the only source of their implicit and explicit information, as my first manager imagined.

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Cloonan, M. V. (2001). “W(h)ither preservation?” The Library Quarterly 71(2): 231–242.

Benjamin, W. (2005 [1936]). “The work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction,” trans. Andy Blunden. https://www.marxists.org/reference/subject/ philosophy/works/ge/benjamin.htm.

The library landscape changes in accordance with the community it serves—more prosperous communities can afford nicer facilities, while those with less funding might house out-of-date technologies, a smaller staff, and surroundings that aren’t quite as kempt. The latter are characteristics of the types of environments fostering biases in the titular “Street Level Bureaucrats” outlined in Michael Lipsky’s 1969 study for the Institute on Poverty Research. Though the study was conducted over forty years ago, it is applicable in todays’ public libraries, where librarians are comparable to the Street Level Bureaucrats outline within the study. In fact, I would argue that the comparison is spot-on:

1. He is called upon to interact constantly with citizens in the regular course of his job.

2. Although he works within a bureaucratie structure, his independenee on the job is fairly extensive.One component of this independenee is discretion in making decisions; but independence in job performance is not Iimited to discretion. The attitude and general approach of a Street-Ievel Bureaucrat toward his client may affect his client significantly. These considerations are broader than the term discretion suggests. 

(Right?) For the sake of this post let’s agree that there are at least a few—if not an overwhelming number of—similarities between the Street-Level Bureaucrat and the public librarian (specifically). Lipsky studies a few of the problems facing SLB’s, namely those “that arise from lack of organizational and personal resources, physical and psychological threat, and conflicting and ambiguous role expectations,”(MANGUEL web) succinctly identifying what happen to be some of the most pertinent causes of identity crisis in contemporary public librarianship.

Why does one become a public librarian? A common response is that it’s incidental to a love of reading, or an inspirational hometown librarian. But what does a librarian end up being— a mother figure? A social worker? A jaded burnout? As the role of librarian grows and changes, how can they adapt to serve a changing patronage that increasingly includes, for example, the homeless population, bringing a whole new set of responsibilities to the position? And how do we prep librarians for these new responsibilities?

 

As Alberto Manguel recently wrote in the New York Times, “libraries have become largely social centers. Most libraries today are used less to borrow books than to seek protection from harsh weather and to find jobs online”(MANGUEL web). Many of these are homeless patrons utilizing resources unavailable outside of a library. This fact necessitates a response from the library community. The American Library Association has a growing list of homeless-oriented library programs implemented across the country. The scope ranges wildly in what these programs offer; the Baltimore County Public Library’s  “Street Card” program, is listed— essentially just a card with information pertaining to available assistance with employment, food, emergencies, health, legal issues, and shelter, among other things (ALA web). This seems a small, painless implementation, but with greater implications— these cards are a response to the daily experience of the librarian, which involves interaction with a population that has not been adequately served by the right institutions (homeless shelters, etc.) and are now seeking to use the library in a different manner than most librarians would, I’m sure, ideally imagine.

The programs get more involved throughout the list: public librarians in Denver actually lead off-site visits to shelters for homeless and low-income women to give lessons on interviewing techniques, technology skills, and provide free bus tokens and library cards. Even more radically, San Francisco Public Library formed a homeless and poverty outreach with the city’s Department of Public Health and hired the nation’s first full-time, in-house social worker. The library recruits formerly homeless patrons to assist with the outreach program, and the program is lead by a psychiatrist!

In light of this, is it enough to equip public librarians with research skills? Should Social work be a part of the education of the public librarian? Perhaps. As the role of librarian and that of social worker are becoming increasingly inextricable in certain library environments, the only course of action can be to prepare these currently ill-equipped Street-Level Bureaucrats by teaching them the skills required to navigate their workspace.

Manguel has different beliefs, saying “a library is not a homeless shelter (at the St. Agnes library in New York, I witnessed a librarian explaining to a customer why she could not sleep on the floor), a nursery or a fun fair (the Seneca East Public Library in Attica, Ohio, offers pajama parties), or a prime provider of social support and medical care (which American librarians today nonetheless routinely give)” (MANGUEL web). He has a point, but why deny the fact that libraries no longer serve simply as havens for books and research? Why not equip librarians with more specific social-work skills that, coupled with their librarian skills, can help them to truly impact and better the communities that they serve?

 

Sources Cited

Lipsky, Michael. “Toward A Theory of Street-Level Bureaucrats.” Institute for Research on Poverty. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin, 1969.

Manguel, Alberto. “Reinventing the Library.” New York Times 23 Oct 2015. Web. <http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/24/opinion/reinventing-the-library.html?_r=0>

“Extending Our Reach: Reducing Homelessness Through Library Engagement.” American Library Association. Web. Accessed 27 Oct 2015. <http://www.ala.org/offices/extending-our-reach-reducing-homelessness-through-library-engagement-6>