Is the blog dead?

Mark Crotty at To Keep Things Whole blog, observes:

One positive aspect of the blogging phenomenon is was that it had many people, without necessarily being aware of it engaging in the sort of intellectual exploration associated with the original essay. This idea holds particularly true in what many called "process posts." I often begin with just a seed of an idea, unsure exactly where the post may end up. I do almost no drafting, editing, or revising. In a way it's like journaling publicly. The quality of writing in blogs is not always high quality; it can sometimes be rather poor. But that's besides the point. More people were struggling to capture their ideas via the written word, which often sharpens one's thoughts and leads to unforeseen conclusions. Many notable authors have said something about the notion of not knowing what they thought until they wrote it down. The back-and-forth in comments can extend that thinking. This reason, more than anything else, is why I keep blogging.

But finally he asks:

I'm not sure how many people actually read blogs any more.

I've wondered the same thing. The Blue Skunk was started in 2005 as what I thought would be a very temporary experiment. (I honestly didn't know at the time I named the blog "Blue Skunk" that it was a brand of marijuana -really, I didn't!) I wondered if blogging was "my thing" since I was writing articles and columns and had even published a book or few. But I quickly came to find it a tool as Mark describes it, to "capture my thoughts" and clarify my thinking. And having no shame, share my conclusions without editors or censorship or occasionally good judgement. (See Why the Blue Skunk Blog and Why I Write for Professional Publication) for a bit more thoughtful approach to my writing.) Writing this blog has probably given me more joy than it has given my readers.

Yet the decline of blogging has seemed steep over the last few years as Mark notes. I have found many of my favorite bloggers have dropped out or moved on. The readership of the Blue Skunk, at least indicated by the number of comments I get to my posts, has slowed to a trickle. The days of a dozen responses to a single post has trickled to one every now and again. (I do value those faithful readers very much.)

I often ask myself if this is because my ideas have become stale, irrelevant, or meaningless to others in the profession. As one ages, one questions one's relevance more and more as bright young minds move into the field - as they should. Has this blog simply become too self-indulgent? Do I post too often or not often enough? Am I writing simply for the sake of writing or am I making a meaningful contribution?

Or is has blogging as a format simply had its day? I reluctantly tweet and re-tweet and have a "following" on Twitter of 6,780 souls. Mostly, I am sure, following my snarky t-shirt slogans more than clicking the links to the blog. In an environment of Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and clickbait, have 500 words simply become to costly in terms of time and attention? Personally, I find the value of Twitter in becoming aware of links to longer, more insightful pieces of writing. Having a discussion on Twitter to me is like having a debate with bumper stickers alone.

I personally value those bloggers who have stayed with it - the Larry Cubans and Mark Crottys and Joyce Valenzas and Miguel Guhlins and Scott McLeods. They still challenge my thinking in ways formally published articles do not. Thank you to them and all bloggers still brave enough to share their ideas.

I am afraid if you were hoping this entry was to inform readers that I would not longer be blogging, you will be sorely disappointed. If blogging or just the Blue Skunk is a dead horse, it is one I will continue to beat. Sorry about that. But at least you will still be getting your money's worth.

Is librarianship a reactionary profession?

This tweet appeared in my feed a day or so ago:

 

Link in post: http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-42587007

As anyone knows who reads this blog, I am a believer in libraries and the good they do for kids, communities, and society. But I worry that we dismiss educational innovations out-of-hand when funds are spent that "could have gone to libraries."

While the objection to the UK's "English hubs" came from a political party, it was re-tweeted by an eminent library leader, I suspect in agreement. To me the post sends a message that a new effort to help disadvantaged students means less money for libraries. I find it hard to believe there is a direct cause-effect relationship.

While libraries have been empirically proven to improve literacy for many people, there are obviously many people libraries fail to reach - and for probably many reasons.

I worry that we as librarians do ourselves a disservice when we reject out-of-hand innovative practices when they seem to threaten our established practices and norms.

As I have often stated, creativity is needed when the accepted best practice in education does not work. I don't know of any educational resource, practice, or theory that meets the needs of 100% of our kids. My analogy has been that I want my dentist to use best practice when working on my teeth - unless that practice is not effective. Then I want him to be creative. 

What might be some new programs in your school that are getting funds "that might be instead spent on the library?" Digital resources? A new reading curriculum? 1:1 initiatives? Do we as librarians simply resist, protecting our own programs?

Or do we critically examine these innovations to see if we have a role in making them as effective as possible, especially for those not now well-served by our traditional programs?

Do we as a profession want to be known as reactionaries or innovators? I hope it is the latter, especially as long as some kids are not doing as well as they might.

Sophistication and simplicity - can you have it both ways?

One of the main premises of the book is that although people are often keen to blame themselves when objects appear to malfunction, it is not the fault of the user but rather the lack of intuitive guidance that should be present in the design. Wikipedia entry for The Design of Everyday Things by Donald Norman

This old cartoon came to mind when thinking about a new-ish AV system we have in some meeting rooms at our district offices.

The room in which our school board meets is connected via sliding walls to two other large rooms. The advantages are obvious - when there is a large gathering a huge room can be created. When there is a need for space for multiple meetings, we can have that as well. Flexibility.

The difficulty we have had is providing a flexible means of controlling the sound and projection systems in these rooms. A single audio source - computer or microphone - needs to be heard on the speakers in either one, two, or three rooms depending on the setup. A single video source needs to be shown on between one and eight projectors and monitors depending on the setup. (Add to this, additional audio and visual recording and transmission needed for school board meetings which are broadcast over community television.)

The consultants put in a clever system using software on wall mounted iPads that allows us to do this. Serving as touch panels, the user can select the input and output sources needed for the particular event. When it works, it works like magic. When it doesn't work or if the user is unfamiliar with the system, frustration mounts. Often these rooms are used in the evenings, outside our tech staff's regular hours.

This dilemma - the need for both sophistication and simplicity - is increasing during what feels like a very rapid, transitional time in technology evolution. Automobiles now have complex systems that control audio, navigation, and who knows what else, but they don't yet have a Siri-type AI that allows the driver to simply say "Please play NPR at a medium volume" or "Give me the GPS directions to the nearest gas station." We still need to know what buttons to push and in what order.

It's lovely to have highly-functional technologies. It's not so lovely to need a programming degree and the patience of Job to operate them.

Do we, when selecting resources for our schools (or homes) ever make simplicity a criteria when making the choice - or do we always just go for the product with the most bells and whistles?

I am going to find my old copy of Donald Norman's wonderful book The Design of Everyday Things. I may be worth a re-read.

Oh, Alexa, learn quickly, please