I intentionally read O’Reilly last this week. It was required reading a few years ago when we were attempting to commercialize instructional design and development with the goal of spinning off into a for-profit venture. Before we could deconstruct, embrace, and apply the principles of Web 2.0, our over-capitalized experiment imploded.
I like this article because it provides a survey of where and what the web was, is, and can be. By intentionally not describing the web as a collection of HTML-based resources, the article allows us to see the web as a space in which things happen. Terms like platform, service, and architecture make more sense when used amid discussions of specific efforts over the years. If one thing is clear, it’s that the web (arguably the Internet as a whole) continues to be about choice and openness – about participation. From a business perspective, Web 2.0 tools, technologies, and initiatives have simply elevated that participation in ways that allow for commercialization outside of traditional product/revenue models. From a more holistic perspective, participation is now expected if not demanded by users. Thesis, antithesis, synthesis.
O’Reilly mentions in the article that as early as 2005 the term Web 2.0 had been high-jacked and improperly applied. Indeed, I’d noted my own personal disgust with rampant and disingenuous references to Web 2.0, which is why I continue to thoroughly enjoy this:
Sunday, March 28, 2010
ccr 760: on diehl, et al
I'm struck by the continuity through our readings the last week -- in particular the emergence (for me) of the importance of the visual in technical communication. I think I've always understood this, but in a narrow sort of way; the visual layout of a document or web space, the structure of tabular data, the use of graphics, etc. I'm seeing now that this particular view limits the visual to a declarative role secondary to the more procedural or narrative textual elements of an information product. The "malleable functionality" (428) of the Grassroots app illustrates the fundamental benefit of the mashup: an ability to compile and combine visual and aural information in a way that makes the most sense to the user. The relative importance of that information is completely up to the user, thereby negating an author's conception of the information as primarily procedural or declarative. Perhaps this is why it was necessary for Diehl, et al. to describe maps as arguments. If we are to accept that description, it is absolutely necessary to address how public participation in the design of an information product will shape the community ethos and eventual uptake of the product (419).
I'm also seeing a connection here with claims in earlier readings for broader and more tools-based competencies for technical communicators. In this case, the authors are first trying to expose and place value on the writing activities of people involved in civic participation. This was a similar move made by Carliner, Mazur, Spinuzzi, etc. in their efforts to identify the fundamentally rhetorical and "writerly" activities of technical communicators. They (like Diehl, et all) then claim that to be effective at these activities, the communicator/author needs to be able to construct compelling arguments using a range of tools, techniques, devices, and technologies beyond those traditionally understood to be necessary for successful communication.
The call to action is ultimately the same: to expand the teaching of writing (not just technical writing) to allow for a more inclusive or expanded definition of what it means to write in technology-mediated and technology-enhanced professional, personal, and public contexts. I guess this means I need to reconsider my statement about Stolley's claim that technical writers need to know how to sling code. I likely missed the point he was trying to make.
I'm also seeing a connection here with claims in earlier readings for broader and more tools-based competencies for technical communicators. In this case, the authors are first trying to expose and place value on the writing activities of people involved in civic participation. This was a similar move made by Carliner, Mazur, Spinuzzi, etc. in their efforts to identify the fundamentally rhetorical and "writerly" activities of technical communicators. They (like Diehl, et all) then claim that to be effective at these activities, the communicator/author needs to be able to construct compelling arguments using a range of tools, techniques, devices, and technologies beyond those traditionally understood to be necessary for successful communication.
The call to action is ultimately the same: to expand the teaching of writing (not just technical writing) to allow for a more inclusive or expanded definition of what it means to write in technology-mediated and technology-enhanced professional, personal, and public contexts. I guess this means I need to reconsider my statement about Stolley's claim that technical writers need to know how to sling code. I likely missed the point he was trying to make.
Labels:
CCR 760,
Technical Communication,
technology,
web writing
Saturday, March 27, 2010
ccr 760: on stolley
I don't propose to be well-versed in activity theory, but I'm not seeing how the use of a social media application (SMA), such as Delicious, is anything other than an individual activity occurring during the course of a collaborative project. Stolley notes (356) that the object (output – my term) of the team's activity is the document, project, system, etc. To therefore describe SMAs as “tool-mediated activities” because they do not appear in output is to describe just about every tool used by the technical communicator. Stolley's use of activity theory to frame his discussion just seems a little retrofit or unnecessary in the context of his case studies and discussion.
Beyond my inability to see through the essay’s framework, I think I understand the point Stolley is making by describing the use of Delicious (as an example of an SMA) in personal, academic, and professional contexts. Delicious, like many other second-generation web tools, was designed to be manageable, accessible, interoperable, and scalable. These are the principle aspects of tools and technologies that technical communicators (nay, all types of information workers) look to exploit in their daily activities. In some ways this move (both conscious and unconscious) on the part of the user further complicates the already complex work environment and the SMA. On the other hand, the move could have a mitigating affect. As Stolley notes (363-4), the SMA will shape the user's work (environment, processes, activities, etc.) as well as the output of that work. The ideal result then is a reshaping that improves inputs and outputs.
On a slightly divergent note, I don't agree with Stolley's imagining of the modern technical communicator. The ability to write code does not move the technical communicator “beyond a user-only attitude toward technology” (365). The ability to write code (or do anything) simply makes the technical communicator more valuable to the organization and self-sufficient on projects that require code slinging. One's attitude toward technology is based on more than skills and competencies. An appreciation for and understanding of the broader social and rhetorical aspects of technology arguably has more to do with "a new kind of digital literacy" than knowing how to use a particular tool.
Beyond my inability to see through the essay’s framework, I think I understand the point Stolley is making by describing the use of Delicious (as an example of an SMA) in personal, academic, and professional contexts. Delicious, like many other second-generation web tools, was designed to be manageable, accessible, interoperable, and scalable. These are the principle aspects of tools and technologies that technical communicators (nay, all types of information workers) look to exploit in their daily activities. In some ways this move (both conscious and unconscious) on the part of the user further complicates the already complex work environment and the SMA. On the other hand, the move could have a mitigating affect. As Stolley notes (363-4), the SMA will shape the user's work (environment, processes, activities, etc.) as well as the output of that work. The ideal result then is a reshaping that improves inputs and outputs.
On a slightly divergent note, I don't agree with Stolley's imagining of the modern technical communicator. The ability to write code does not move the technical communicator “beyond a user-only attitude toward technology” (365). The ability to write code (or do anything) simply makes the technical communicator more valuable to the organization and self-sufficient on projects that require code slinging. One's attitude toward technology is based on more than skills and competencies. An appreciation for and understanding of the broader social and rhetorical aspects of technology arguably has more to do with "a new kind of digital literacy" than knowing how to use a particular tool.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
ccr 760: a philosophy of usability
Another useful and informative seminar session today. Jason and Missy led us through a great exercise to illustrate and apply certain aspects of usability (the product) with a particular focus on Quesenbery's 5 dimensions.
In the closing activity, we were posed a couple of questions to consider. One question had us imagine what a philosophy of usability might look like. Based on the week's readings, I imagined a philosophy akin to heuristics. I've always found heuristics interesting in a context of Composition and Technical Communication, and usability seems a logical space in which talk about heuristics. In regard to our imagined philosophy, where heuristics allows for users to learn things themselves, a philosophy of usability would extend that individual aspect to allow users to design and build in addition to learn.
One aspect of this philosophy might be a belief that users to are capable of and require the ability to obtain and explore information AND set their own rules (as opposed to simply following pre-determined set of rules -- heuristics). Another aspect of this philosophy might be an understanding that users are problem solvers, and as such they require a range of non-standardized tools and varying competencies.
As applied to the broader issues we've been considering in 760, a philosophy of usability could be a point at which Composition and Technical Writing can intersect -- perhaps in an expanded space of writer analysis. Unlike Composition’s emphasis on the personal, the technical writer’s understanding of audience analysis is typically organizational. And because technical writers generally do not have direct contact with the audiences for which they write, it is difficult, at best, for them to negotiate their texts with their primary audiences. This is where a philosophy of usability could inform technical writing instruction. Traditional Composition pedagogies can be applied to move technical writing students out of the basic writer-audience paradigm to a richer understanding of the function of language within organizational communications. Such an emphasis on usability could expose for the workplace writer the ways in which language is used to maintain corporate power relations and to form a writer’s identity.
Quick thought during a really great discussion amid some very very smart young scholars.
In the closing activity, we were posed a couple of questions to consider. One question had us imagine what a philosophy of usability might look like. Based on the week's readings, I imagined a philosophy akin to heuristics. I've always found heuristics interesting in a context of Composition and Technical Communication, and usability seems a logical space in which talk about heuristics. In regard to our imagined philosophy, where heuristics allows for users to learn things themselves, a philosophy of usability would extend that individual aspect to allow users to design and build in addition to learn.
One aspect of this philosophy might be a belief that users to are capable of and require the ability to obtain and explore information AND set their own rules (as opposed to simply following pre-determined set of rules -- heuristics). Another aspect of this philosophy might be an understanding that users are problem solvers, and as such they require a range of non-standardized tools and varying competencies.
As applied to the broader issues we've been considering in 760, a philosophy of usability could be a point at which Composition and Technical Writing can intersect -- perhaps in an expanded space of writer analysis. Unlike Composition’s emphasis on the personal, the technical writer’s understanding of audience analysis is typically organizational. And because technical writers generally do not have direct contact with the audiences for which they write, it is difficult, at best, for them to negotiate their texts with their primary audiences. This is where a philosophy of usability could inform technical writing instruction. Traditional Composition pedagogies can be applied to move technical writing students out of the basic writer-audience paradigm to a richer understanding of the function of language within organizational communications. Such an emphasis on usability could expose for the workplace writer the ways in which language is used to maintain corporate power relations and to form a writer’s identity.
Quick thought during a really great discussion amid some very very smart young scholars.
Monday, March 22, 2010
ccr 760: on wolf, et al
This essay starts with an interesting statement: "... designing a Web page was a rhetorical act fraught with real-world implications." I like that statement because it applies to just about any design activity that involves communicating information.
I read the essay on the heels of a meeting with a project team designing and developing a course to prepare faculty to teach online. Usability implications oozed from every statement that was made about sequencing instruction, focusing on specific tools, varying the presentation techniques, etc. In terms of a continuity of design (not to mention nomenclature), the course as it is currently imagined will be a hodgepodge of chunks of information and activities. If there is a consideration toward usability, it stops at the point at which users/students will access the course content.
I mention this project because the principal designers would benefit greatly from an "Access First" design approach. Interestingly enough, the topic of universal design will be introduced in the third week of the course to familiarize students with accessibility issues -- focusing on the user's needs and ranges of (dis)abilities.
In many ways, the Access First design approach sounds a lot like descriptions of Information Design, which we reviewed a few weeks ago. I therefore wasn't surprised to see that quote from Redish, arguing for a more holistic consideration of usability studies. This broader view of users and possible uses of the system (information product) is what she claims is essential for effective and practical information design.
I agree with the authors' conclusions that current approaches to usability (analysis and studies) can be limiting in that they do not make space for the freedom, flexibility, and high-degree of personalization realized by Web 2.0 technologies. However, you have to start somewhere -- and think existing approaches to usability can provide at least a baseline for analysis. From there, we can start to look for more creative and interactive ways to assess usability in ways that mirror the technologies and spaces we're analyzing.
I read the essay on the heels of a meeting with a project team designing and developing a course to prepare faculty to teach online. Usability implications oozed from every statement that was made about sequencing instruction, focusing on specific tools, varying the presentation techniques, etc. In terms of a continuity of design (not to mention nomenclature), the course as it is currently imagined will be a hodgepodge of chunks of information and activities. If there is a consideration toward usability, it stops at the point at which users/students will access the course content.
I mention this project because the principal designers would benefit greatly from an "Access First" design approach. Interestingly enough, the topic of universal design will be introduced in the third week of the course to familiarize students with accessibility issues -- focusing on the user's needs and ranges of (dis)abilities.
In many ways, the Access First design approach sounds a lot like descriptions of Information Design, which we reviewed a few weeks ago. I therefore wasn't surprised to see that quote from Redish, arguing for a more holistic consideration of usability studies. This broader view of users and possible uses of the system (information product) is what she claims is essential for effective and practical information design.
I agree with the authors' conclusions that current approaches to usability (analysis and studies) can be limiting in that they do not make space for the freedom, flexibility, and high-degree of personalization realized by Web 2.0 technologies. However, you have to start somewhere -- and think existing approaches to usability can provide at least a baseline for analysis. From there, we can start to look for more creative and interactive ways to assess usability in ways that mirror the technologies and spaces we're analyzing.
Labels:
CCR 760,
Information Architecture,
web writing
Sunday, March 7, 2010
760: on salvo and rosinski
Random Family Member: “Mitch, tell me again what it is you do.”
Mitch the Technical Communicator: “I’m a rhetorically trained, human-centered communication specialist.”
Family Member: “Oh, you work with Greek robots. That’s cool man!”
Mitch: “What? No, I contribute to the development of usable, human-scaled virtual information spaces and advocate for user needs in emerging digital spaces.”
Family Member: “So you’re like the dude in Avatar? I thought that was fake.”
Mitch: “Avatar is fake. Um, let’s see… OK, what I do most of the time is pay attention to context by transcending sentence- and paragraph-level content and the design of written communication intended to be placed on paper. But recently I’m being asked to understand how search engines and databases work within specific contexts to organize access to information, and how I can also consider context as I assign keywords, create summaries, and otherwise prepare documents for a searchable future.”
Family Member: “Dude, why didn’t you just tell me you’re an information designer? You ashamed or something?”
Mitch: “An information designer? What the hell is that? I’m a technical writer. Maybe I’m a very confused technical writer, but that’s what I am -- at least that's what I think I am. Is it still an open bar?”
Aside from the unnecessarily complicated descriptions of information design (ID) and technical communication (as disciplines and practices), the essay provides an excellent survey of the development of ID and its relationship to tech comm and the technical communicator. Most useful, I think, is the lexicon that Salvo & Rosinski (S&R) present because it gives us a way to discuss the outcomes or products of ID. Carliner earlier referred to blueprints; Albers and Mazur made reference to guidelines. S&R’s lexicon allows us to label and identify specific aspects of ID so we can place certain ID activities within the work (current or future) of the technical communicator.
Most interesting of the lexicon is ambience. “Effective ambient design helps users understand the purpose and content … with a quick glance” (120). This is a brutally difficult challenge; at least it is for me, which is why I rely so heavily on exceptionally talented graphic designers. Here's the funny thing about ambient design and the example of the quick guide for the office chair: Getting the user to use the guide isn’t necessarily the problem. It’s often more about getting the user to remember that the quick guide is right there in the arm of the chair.
As part of our body of knowledge, S&R make two principle claims that allow us to continue on with the historical and professionalization narratives we’ve been working through: 1) That technical communicators have a role (actually a stake) in shaping the field/practice of information design in the present and immediate future, and 2) Technical communicators are in an ideal position to continue doing what they’ve been doing for a long time – implementing good designs in their information products, but now the emphasis is on digital media.
Here are two asides from the essay:
Mitch the Technical Communicator: “I’m a rhetorically trained, human-centered communication specialist.”
Family Member: “Oh, you work with Greek robots. That’s cool man!”
Mitch: “What? No, I contribute to the development of usable, human-scaled virtual information spaces and advocate for user needs in emerging digital spaces.”
Family Member: “So you’re like the dude in Avatar? I thought that was fake.”
Mitch: “Avatar is fake. Um, let’s see… OK, what I do most of the time is pay attention to context by transcending sentence- and paragraph-level content and the design of written communication intended to be placed on paper. But recently I’m being asked to understand how search engines and databases work within specific contexts to organize access to information, and how I can also consider context as I assign keywords, create summaries, and otherwise prepare documents for a searchable future.”
Family Member: “Dude, why didn’t you just tell me you’re an information designer? You ashamed or something?”
Mitch: “An information designer? What the hell is that? I’m a technical writer. Maybe I’m a very confused technical writer, but that’s what I am -- at least that's what I think I am. Is it still an open bar?”
Aside from the unnecessarily complicated descriptions of information design (ID) and technical communication (as disciplines and practices), the essay provides an excellent survey of the development of ID and its relationship to tech comm and the technical communicator. Most useful, I think, is the lexicon that Salvo & Rosinski (S&R) present because it gives us a way to discuss the outcomes or products of ID. Carliner earlier referred to blueprints; Albers and Mazur made reference to guidelines. S&R’s lexicon allows us to label and identify specific aspects of ID so we can place certain ID activities within the work (current or future) of the technical communicator.
Most interesting of the lexicon is ambience. “Effective ambient design helps users understand the purpose and content … with a quick glance” (120). This is a brutally difficult challenge; at least it is for me, which is why I rely so heavily on exceptionally talented graphic designers. Here's the funny thing about ambient design and the example of the quick guide for the office chair: Getting the user to use the guide isn’t necessarily the problem. It’s often more about getting the user to remember that the quick guide is right there in the arm of the chair.
As part of our body of knowledge, S&R make two principle claims that allow us to continue on with the historical and professionalization narratives we’ve been working through: 1) That technical communicators have a role (actually a stake) in shaping the field/practice of information design in the present and immediate future, and 2) Technical communicators are in an ideal position to continue doing what they’ve been doing for a long time – implementing good designs in their information products, but now the emphasis is on digital media.
Here are two asides from the essay:
- I found it interesting that in defining what they mean by critical literacy, S&R are also describing some of the competencies required to be an effective information designer. Full participation in a community, which they call critical literacy, “requires that one comprehend not merely the words, but also the purposes or uses for the selection of those words in a given context” (103). Then again, that's probably why the essay is included in Spilka's text.
- At what point did we start referring to the “early years of the World Wide Web” (106) as if they were halcyon days?
Saturday, March 6, 2010
760: on mazur
If I'd read Mazur first this week, I probably wouldn't be left with this feeling that she's casting around in a shallow pool of definitions, trying desperately to latch information design (ID) onto anything that floats by.
As a bibliographical history, the essay is insightful, primarily because it strings together the historical narratives that appear in Carliner and Albers (below).
One exceptionally useful nugget in the essay is the STC ID SIG's definition of information design: "ID applies traditional and evolving design principles to the process of translating complex, unorganized, or unstructured data into valuable, meaningful information"(23). Then, when you think you can't read any more "what is information design blah blah blah," there's this from Jef Raskin: "Information design is a misnomer. Information cannot be designed; what can be designed are the modes of transfer and the presentations of information" (23-4). Mazur goes on to quote Raskin's emphasis on drawing a distinction between information and meaning.
I'm going to try and keep that distinction in the foreground as we work through the final essay and move into our class discussion next week. I think it's going to be necessary to create that demarcation (between information and meaning) if we're to find ways to apply ID to our practices as teachers of composition and rhetoric.
As a bibliographical history, the essay is insightful, primarily because it strings together the historical narratives that appear in Carliner and Albers (below).
One exceptionally useful nugget in the essay is the STC ID SIG's definition of information design: "ID applies traditional and evolving design principles to the process of translating complex, unorganized, or unstructured data into valuable, meaningful information"(23). Then, when you think you can't read any more "what is information design blah blah blah," there's this from Jef Raskin: "Information design is a misnomer. Information cannot be designed; what can be designed are the modes of transfer and the presentations of information" (23-4). Mazur goes on to quote Raskin's emphasis on drawing a distinction between information and meaning.
I'm going to try and keep that distinction in the foreground as we work through the final essay and move into our class discussion next week. I think it's going to be necessary to create that demarcation (between information and meaning) if we're to find ways to apply ID to our practices as teachers of composition and rhetoric.
760: on carliner
Not to belabor the inability to define information design (ID), but Carliner refers to ID first as a notion -- IDers "look at the bigger picture: What problem is the client trying to solve, what can I bring to address the problem, and how does this solution support the larger business situation" (43). A page later he defines ID as a discipline: "Design as problem solving ... designers focus on the solution ... design is a problem-solving discipline" (44).
Knowing that I need to move on and not make this definition-deficiency an issue, I really like Carliner's three-part goal-oriented framework for ID (the notion, practice, field, discipline, whatever).
I also like what Carliner is attempting to do with the framework (as he qualifies it in his conclusion) because I can locate my own practices within it. I seem most comfortable with the physical and cognitive levels of the framework. The affective level seems like "point of failure" motivation to me, although I know that's incomplete and inconsistent with what Carliner is describing here. It’s just that things like behavioral change, change management, and performance improvement are always the moving targets of the project. It is, quite honestly, often easier and sometimes necessary to avoid the affective level just to get the project done.
As a complete aside: I could probably have gone without Carliner's clarification of what he meant by "pre-digested information" on page 51. Dude, really? A description of how LactAid works?
Knowing that I need to move on and not make this definition-deficiency an issue, I really like Carliner's three-part goal-oriented framework for ID (the notion, practice, field, discipline, whatever).
- Physical - the ability to find information
- Cognitive - the ability to understand information
- Affective - the ability to feel comfortable with the presentation of the information
I also like what Carliner is attempting to do with the framework (as he qualifies it in his conclusion) because I can locate my own practices within it. I seem most comfortable with the physical and cognitive levels of the framework. The affective level seems like "point of failure" motivation to me, although I know that's incomplete and inconsistent with what Carliner is describing here. It’s just that things like behavioral change, change management, and performance improvement are always the moving targets of the project. It is, quite honestly, often easier and sometimes necessary to avoid the affective level just to get the project done.
As a complete aside: I could probably have gone without Carliner's clarification of what he meant by "pre-digested information" on page 51. Dude, really? A description of how LactAid works?
760: on albers
I will openly admit that I’m a little confused now. Albers claims that information design (ID) is not the same as information architecture (IA). But I’m struggling with how ID is nothing more than a sequence of activities that technical communicators have always performed prior to developing an information product.
Albers says that ID is not "the practice of web navigation, creating graphics, picking fonts, laying out the page, or using particular tools. Rather, it must be considered the practice of enabling a reader to obtain knowledge" (7). And yet back on page one he states that “Information design is about the proper position of content within an appropriate/meaningful context -- content that is effectively assembled and presented” (1). Am I the only one who gets the sense that Albers can’t clearly define ID either?
OK, so let’s assume that the “practice” of ID occurs first. Do we then move to IA (page layout, fonts, headings, etc.), and then to the central task of authoring, collecting, and synthesizing content? If that’s the case, therein is my confusion because I’ve never seen or understood these practices to be mutually exclusive or necessarily sequential.
When Albers talks about the "essence of being a good information designer" it sounds a lot like good audience analysis and project planning. "They start with understanding the information needs of the audience and what data is available, and then decide if paper, web-based, or a loudspeaker is the best method of communicating the information. The medium used to communicate the message should not be chosen until the information needs of the audience are defined" (8).That, to me, is the necessary up-front work of building usable and effective information products.
The need to specialize the technical communicator’s activities into granular chunks isn’t surprising – in fact it fits nicely with the themes of value-seeking, self-preservation, and disciplinary struggles we’ve strung together since week 1. When Carliner lists the activities of the IDer on page 3, he’s describing many of the symbolic-analytic activities that all knowledge workers perform. Similarly, when Odell and Goswanmi state that, “In creating the optimal user experience, the information designer must also consider the social context of the user” (6), are they not simply talking about the work of the rhetorician?
If I come to this discussion through those narratives (above), then I can buy the claim that ID has emerged from technical communication. Similarly, I can accept the better of the definitions of ID presented in the introduction -- "Information Design Journal: Information design is the art and the science of presenting information so that it is understandable and easy to use: effective, efficient and attractive" (3).
I like the IDJ definition because it lists three key metrics that we use in tech comm to evaluate our information products. Those metrics are embedded in our training (or at least they were). So maybe we were taught information design without it being called information design. It's an aspect of good technical communication. Nothing more.
Albers says that ID is not "the practice of web navigation, creating graphics, picking fonts, laying out the page, or using particular tools. Rather, it must be considered the practice of enabling a reader to obtain knowledge" (7). And yet back on page one he states that “Information design is about the proper position of content within an appropriate/meaningful context -- content that is effectively assembled and presented” (1). Am I the only one who gets the sense that Albers can’t clearly define ID either?
OK, so let’s assume that the “practice” of ID occurs first. Do we then move to IA (page layout, fonts, headings, etc.), and then to the central task of authoring, collecting, and synthesizing content? If that’s the case, therein is my confusion because I’ve never seen or understood these practices to be mutually exclusive or necessarily sequential.
When Albers talks about the "essence of being a good information designer" it sounds a lot like good audience analysis and project planning. "They start with understanding the information needs of the audience and what data is available, and then decide if paper, web-based, or a loudspeaker is the best method of communicating the information. The medium used to communicate the message should not be chosen until the information needs of the audience are defined" (8).That, to me, is the necessary up-front work of building usable and effective information products.
The need to specialize the technical communicator’s activities into granular chunks isn’t surprising – in fact it fits nicely with the themes of value-seeking, self-preservation, and disciplinary struggles we’ve strung together since week 1. When Carliner lists the activities of the IDer on page 3, he’s describing many of the symbolic-analytic activities that all knowledge workers perform. Similarly, when Odell and Goswanmi state that, “In creating the optimal user experience, the information designer must also consider the social context of the user” (6), are they not simply talking about the work of the rhetorician?
If I come to this discussion through those narratives (above), then I can buy the claim that ID has emerged from technical communication. Similarly, I can accept the better of the definitions of ID presented in the introduction -- "Information Design Journal: Information design is the art and the science of presenting information so that it is understandable and easy to use: effective, efficient and attractive" (3).
I like the IDJ definition because it lists three key metrics that we use in tech comm to evaluate our information products. Those metrics are embedded in our training (or at least they were). So maybe we were taught information design without it being called information design. It's an aspect of good technical communication. Nothing more.
Monday, March 1, 2010
760: on clark
I really don’t have much to say about this essay other than it does a tremendously good job of surveying the issues relating to content / structure separation.
I found two extremely meaningful comments. The first: “As a result, after implementing this type of separation, a significant part of the writing process becomes the negotiation of content across genres rather than simply within them, and writing is structured by the design and use of information models, rule sets, style sheets, and the technical infrastructure that maintains and enforces those models and rules and presents the content whenever it is requested” (50). As the other essays in the week’s readings argue (directly and indirectly), these are the principle activities of the modern technical communicator AS WELL AS anyone else building information products from content objects. I think Clark is correct in assuming that “trained” technical communicators have the advantage of adapting these activities to their workflows because they have a long history of performing the same activities in less controlled traditional workflows.
Clark’s second meaningful comment is an assurance that there will continue to be a space for the technical communicator in the CMS-based authoring environment: “Authors write and structure complete texts to which visual style is added as needed, allowing them to continue working flexibly within organizational genres and facilitating changes and the creation of new genres. But the implementation of a system that granularizes content and makes genre formation part of a multigenre, automatically generated presentation system means learning to write differently” (54). In many ways, this is what technical communicators have done as long as new tools and technologies have been introduced into their practices.
Both of these comments illustrate that Clark wants to keep the “writing” in “technical writing” and does not privilege the technology over the craft. This, I think, is something that needs to be foregrounded as we work through the issues and implications of content management and content/authoring systems.
I found two extremely meaningful comments. The first: “As a result, after implementing this type of separation, a significant part of the writing process becomes the negotiation of content across genres rather than simply within them, and writing is structured by the design and use of information models, rule sets, style sheets, and the technical infrastructure that maintains and enforces those models and rules and presents the content whenever it is requested” (50). As the other essays in the week’s readings argue (directly and indirectly), these are the principle activities of the modern technical communicator AS WELL AS anyone else building information products from content objects. I think Clark is correct in assuming that “trained” technical communicators have the advantage of adapting these activities to their workflows because they have a long history of performing the same activities in less controlled traditional workflows.
Clark’s second meaningful comment is an assurance that there will continue to be a space for the technical communicator in the CMS-based authoring environment: “Authors write and structure complete texts to which visual style is added as needed, allowing them to continue working flexibly within organizational genres and facilitating changes and the creation of new genres. But the implementation of a system that granularizes content and makes genre formation part of a multigenre, automatically generated presentation system means learning to write differently” (54). In many ways, this is what technical communicators have done as long as new tools and technologies have been introduced into their practices.
Both of these comments illustrate that Clark wants to keep the “writing” in “technical writing” and does not privilege the technology over the craft. This, I think, is something that needs to be foregrounded as we work through the issues and implications of content management and content/authoring systems.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)