Tag Archives: exclusion

Profils et web social

J’écrivais ce message à un ami, à propos de mon expérience sur le site xkcd.com.

 

What? Oh, no, the 'Enchanted' soundtrack was just playing because Pandora's algorithms are terrible. [silence] ... (quietly) That's how you knooooooow ...

BD de xkcd

C’est sur xkcd, mais ça pourrait être ailleurs. C’est rien de très spécial, mais ça me donne à penser à ce qu’est le vrai web social, en ce moment. Surtout si on sort de la niche geek.

Donc…

  • Je vois le dernier xkcd.
  • Ça me fait réagir.
  • Je veux répondre.
  • Je sais qu’il y a des forums pour accompagner ces bande dessinées.
  • Je vais sur le forum lié à celui-ci (déjà quelques clics et il fallait que je connaisse l’existence de tout ça).
  • J’appuie sur Post Reply
  • Ça me demande de m’identifier.
  • Comme je crois avoir déjà envoyé quelque-chose là, je me branche avec mon username habituel.
  • Ah, mauvais mdp.
  • Je fais “forget pw”.
  • Oups! J’avais pas de compte avec mon adresse gmail (faut que ça soit la bonne combinaison donc, si je me rappelle pas de mon username, ça marche pas).
  • Je me crée un nouveau profil.
  • Le captcha est illisible, ça me prend plusieurs tentatives.
  • Faut que j’aille sur mon compte gmail activer mon compte sur les forums xkcd.
  • Une fois que c’est fait, je me retrouve à la page d’accueil des forums (pas à la page où j’essaie d’envoyer ma réponse).
  • Je retrouve la page que je voulais.
  • J’appuie sur Post Reply.
  • J’écris ma réponse et je l’envoie.
  • Évidemment, mon profil est vierge.
  • Je vais modifier ça.
  • Ça commence par mon numéro ICQ?? Eh bé!
  • Plus bas, je vois des champs pour Website et Interests. Je remplis ça rapidement, en pensant au plus générique.
  • Il y a aussi ma date de fête. Pas moyen de contrôler qui la voit, etc. Je l’ajoute pas.
  • J’enregistre les autres modifications.
  • Et j’essaie de changer mon avatar.
  • Il y a pas de bouton pour uploader.
  • Ça passe par une Gallery, mais il y a rien dedans.
  • Je laisse tomber, même si je sais bien que les geeks de xkcd sont du genre à rire de toi si t’as un profil générique.
  • Je quitte le site un peu frustré, sans vraiment avoir l’impression que je vais pouvoir commencer une conversation là-dessus.

Deuxième scénario.

J’arrive sur un site qui supporte Disqus (par exemple Mashable).

  • Je peux envoyer un commentaire en tant que guest.

You are commenting as a Guest. Optional: Login below.

Donc, si je veux seulement laisser un commentaire anonyme, c’est tout ce que j’ai à faire. «Merci, bonsoir!»

Même sans me brancher, je peux faire des choses avec les commentaires déjà présents (Like, Reply).

Mais je peux aussi me brancher avec mes profils Disqus, Facebook (avec Facebook Connect), ou Twitter (avec OAuth). Dans chaque cas, si je suis déjà branché sur ce compte dans mon browser, j’ai juste à cliquer pour autoriser l’accès. Même si je suis pas déjà branché, je peux m’identifier directement sur chaque site.

Après l’identification, je reviens tout de suite à la page où j’étais. Mon avatar s’affiche mais je peux le changer. Je peux aussi changer mon username, mais il est déjà inscrit. Mon avatar et mon nom sont liés à un profil assez complet, qui inclut mes derniers commentaires sur des sites qui supportent Disqus.

Sur le site où je commente, il y a une petite boîte avec un résumé de mon profil qui inclut un décompte des commentaires, le nombre de commentaires que j’ai indiqué comme “likes” et des points que j’ai acquis.

Je peux envoyer mon commentaire sur Twitter et sur Facebook en même temps. Je peux décider de recevoir des notices par courriel ou de m’abonner au RSS. Je vois tout de suite quel compte j’utilise (Post as…) et je peux changer de compte si je veux (personnel et pro, par exemple). Une fois que j’envoie mon commentaire, les autres visiteurs du site peuvent voir plus d’infos sur moi en passant avec la souris au-dessus de mon avatar et ils peuvent cliquer et avoir un dialogue modal avec un résumé de mon compte. Ce résumé mène évidemment sur le profil complet. Depuis le profil complet, les gens peuvent suivre mes commentaires ou explorer divers aspects de ma vie en-ligne.

Suite à mon commentaire, les gens peuvent aussi me répondre directement, de façon anonyme ou identifiée.

J’ai donc un profil riche en deux clics, avec beaucoup de flexibilité. Il y a donc un contexte personnel à mon commentaire.

L’aspect social est intéressant. Mon commentaire est identifié par mon profil et je suis identifié par mes commentaires. D’ailleurs, la plupart des avatars sur Mashable sont des vraies photos (ou des avatars génériques) alors que sur le forum xkcd, c’est surtout des avatars «conceptuels».

Ce que xkcd propose est plus proche du “in-group”. Les initiés ont déjà leurs comptes. Ils sont “in the know”. Ils ont certaines habitudes. Leurs signatures sont reconnaissables. L’auteur de la bd connaît probablement leurs profils de ses «vrais fans». Ces gens peuvent citer à peu près tout ce qui a été envoyé sur le site. D’ailleurs, ils comprennent toutes les blagues de la bd, ils ont les références nécessaires pour savoir de quoi l’auteur parle, que ça soit de mathématiques ou de science-fiction. Ils sont les premiers à envoyer des commentaires parce qu’ils savent à quel moment une nouvelle bd est envoyée. En fait, aller regarder une bd xkcd, ça fait partie de leur routine. Ils sont morts de rire à l’idée que certains ne savent pas encore que les vraies blagues xkcd sont dans les alt-text. Ils se font des inside-jokes en tout genre et se connaissent entre eux.

En ce sens, ils forment une «communauté». C’est un groupe ouvert mais il y a plusieurs processus d’exclusion qui sont en action à tout moment. Pour être accepté dans ce genre de groupe, faut faire sa place.

 

Les sites qui utilisent Disqus ont une toute autre structure. N’importe qui peut commenter n’importe quoi, même de façon anonyme. Ceux qui ne sont pas anonymes utilisent un profil consolidé, qui dit «voici ma persona de web social» (s’ils en ont plusieurs, ils présentent le masque qu’ils veulent présenter). En envoyant un commentaire sur Mashable, par exemple, ils ne s’impliquent pas vraiment. Ils construisent surtout leurs identités, regroupent leurs idées sur divers sujets. Ça se rapproche malgré tout de la notion de self-branding qui préoccupe tant des gens comme Isabelle Lopez, même si les réactions sont fortes contre l’idée de “branding”, dans la sphère du web social montréalaisn (la YulMob). Les conversations entre utilisateurs peuvent avoir lieu à travers divers sites. «Ah oui, je me rappelle d’elle sur tel autre blogue, je la suis déjà sur Twitter…». Il n’y a pas d’allégeance spécifique au site.

Bien sûr, il peut bien y avoir des initiées sur un site particulier. Surtout si les gens commencent à se connaître et qu’ils répondent aux commentaires de l’un et de l’autre. En fait, il peut même y avoir une petite «cabale» qui décide de prendre possession des commentaires sur certains sites. Mais, contrairement à xkcd (ou 4chan!), ça se passe en plein jour, mis en évidence. C’est plus “mainstream”.

Ok, je divague peut-être un peu. Mais ça me remet dans le bain, avant de faire mes présentations Yul– et IdentityCamp.

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Privilege: Library Edition

When I came out against privilege, over a month ago, I wasn’t thinking about libraries. But, last week, while running some errands at three local libraries (within an hour), I got to think about library privileges.

During that day, I first started thinking about library privileges because I was renewing my CREPUQ card at Concordia. With that card, graduate students and faculty members at a university in Quebec are able to get library privileges at other universities, a nice “perk” that we have. While renewing my card, I was told (or, more probably, reminded) that the card now gives me borrowing privileges at any university library in Canada through CURBA (Canadian University Reciprocal Borrowing Agreement).

My gut reaction: “Aw-sum!” (I was having a fun day).

It got me thinking about what it means to be an academic in Canada. Because I’ve also spent part of my still short academic career in the United States, I tend to compare the Canadian academe to US academic contexts. And while there are some impressive academic consortia in the US, I don’t think that any of them may offer as wide a set of library privileges as this one. If my count is accurate, there are 77 institutions involved in CURBA. University systems and consortia in the US typically include somewhere between ten and thirty institutions, usually within the same state or region. Even if members of both the “UC System” and “CalState” have similar borrowing privileges, it would only mean 33 institutions, less than half of CURBA (though the population of California is about 20% more than that of Canada as a whole). Some important university consortia through which I’ve had some privileges were the CIC (Committee on Institutional Cooperation), a group of twelve Midwestern universities, and the BLC (Boston Library Consortium), a group of twenty university in New England. Even with full borrowing privileges in all three groups of university libraries, an academic would only have access to library material from 65 institutions.

Of course, the number of institutions isn’t that relevant if the libraries themselves have few books. But my guess is that the average size of a Canadian university’s library collection is quite comparable to its US equivalents, including in such well-endowed institutions as those in the aforementioned consortia and university systems. What’s more, I would guess that there might be a broader range of references across Canadian universities than in any region of the US. Not to mention that BANQ (Quebec’s national library and archives) are part of CURBA and that their collections overlap very little with a typical university library.

So, I was thinking about access to an extremely wide range of references given to graduate students and faculty members throughout Canada. We get this very nice perk, this impressive privilege, and we pretty much take it for granted.

Which eventually got me to think about my problem with privilege. Privilege implies a type of hierarchy with which I tend to be uneasy. Even (or especially) when I benefit from a top position. “That’s all great for us but what about other people?”

In this case, there are obvious “Others” like undergraduate students at Canadian institutions,  Canadian non-academics, and scholars at non-Canadian institutions. These are very disparate groups but they are all denied something.

Canadian undergrads are the most direct “victims”: they participate in Canada’s academe, like graduate students and faculty members, yet their access to resources is severely limited by comparison to those of us with CURBA privileges. Something about this strikes me as rather unfair. Don’t undegrads need access as much as we do? Is there really such a wide gap between someone working on an honour’s thesis at the end of a bachelor’s degree and someone starting work on a master’s thesis that the latter requires much wider access than the former? Of course, the main rationale behind this discrepancy in access to library material probably has to do with sheer numbers: there are many undergraduate students “fighting for the same resources” and there are relatively few graduate students and faculty members who need access to the same resources. Or something like that. It makes sense but it’s still a point of tension, as any matter of privilege.

The second set of “victims” includes Canadians who happen to not be affiliated directly with an academic institution. While it may seem that their need for academic resources are more limited than those of students, many people in this category have a more unquenchable “thirst for knowledge” than many an academic. In fact, there are people in this category who could probably do a lot of academically-relevant work “if only they had access.” I mostly mean people who have an academic background of some sort but who are currently unaffiliated with formal institutions. But the “broader public” counts, especially when a specific topic becomes relevant to them. These are people who take advantage of public libraries but, as mentioned in the BANQ case, public and university libraries don’t tend to overlap much. For instance, it’s quite unlikely that someone without academic library privileges would have been able to borrow Visual Information Processing (Chase, William 1973), a proceedings book that I used as a source for a recent blogpost on expertise. Of course, “the public” is usually allowed to browse books in most university libraries in North America (apart from Harvard). But, depending on other practical factors, borrowing books can be much more efficient than browsing them in a library. I tend to hear from diverse people who would enjoy some kind of academic status for this very reason: library privileges matter.

A third category of “victims” of CURBA privileges are non-Canadian academics. Since most of them may only contribute indirectly to Canadian society, why should they have access to Canadian resources? As any social context, the national academe defines insiders and outsiders. While academics are typically inclusive, this type of restriction seems to make sense. Yet many academics outside of Canada could benefit from access to resources broadly available to Canadian academics. In some cases, there are special agreements to allow outside scholars to get temporary access to local, regional, or national resources. Rather frequently, these agreements come with special funding, the outside academic being a special visitor, sometimes with even better access than some local academics.  I have very limited knowledge of these agreements (apart from infrequent discussions with colleagues who benefitted from them) but my sense is that they are costly, cumbersome, and restrictive. Access to local resources is even more exclusive a privilege in this case than in the CURBA case.

Which brings me to my main point about the issue: we all need open access.

When I originally thought about how impressive CURBA privileges were, I was thinking through the logic of the physical library. In a physical library, resources are scarce, access to resources need to be controlled, and library privileges have a high value. In fact, it costs an impressive amount of money to run a physical library. The money universities invest in their libraries is relatively “inelastic” and must figure quite prominently in their budgets. The “return” on that investment seems to me a bit hard to measure: is it a competitive advantage, does a better-endowed library make a university more cost-effective, do university libraries ever “recoup” any portion of the amounts spent?

Contrast all of this with a “virtual” library. My guess is that an online collection of texts costs less to maintain than a physical library by any possible measure. Because digital data may be copied at will, the notion of “scarcity” makes little sense online. Distributing millions of copies of a digital text doesn’t make the original text unavailable to anyone. As long as the distribution system is designed properly, the “transaction costs” in distributing a text of any length are probably much less than those associated with borrowing a book.  And the differences between “browsing” and “borrowing,” which do appear significant with physical books, seem irrelevant with digital texts.

These are all well-known points about online distribution. And they all seem to lead to the same conclusion: “information wants to be free.” Not “free as in beer.” Maybe not even “free as in speech.” But “free as in unchained.”

Open access to academic resources is still a hot topic. Though I do consider myself an advocate of “OA” (the “Open Access movement”), what I mean here isn’t so much about OA as opposed to TA (“toll-access”) in the case of academic journals. Physical copies of periodicals may usually not be borrowed, regardless of library privileges, and online resources are typically excluded from borrowing agreements between institutions. The connection between OA and my perspective on library privileges is that I think the same solution could solve both issues.

I’ve been thinking about a “global library” for a while. Like others, the Library of Alexandria serves as a model but texts would be online. It sounds utopian but my main notion, there, is that “library privileges” would be granted to anyone. Not only senior scholars at accredited academic institutions. Anyone. Of course, the burden of maintaining that global library would also be shared by anyone.

There are many related models, apart from the Library of Alexandria: French «Encyclopédistes» through the Englightenment, public libraries, national libraries (including the Library of Congress), Tim Berners-Lee’s original “World Wide Web” concept, Brewster Kahle’s Internet Archive, Google Books, etc. Though these models differ, they all point to the same basic idea: a “universal” collection with the potential for “universal” access. In historical perspective, this core notion of a “universal library” seems relatively stable.

Of course, there are many obstacles to a “global” or “universal” library. Including issues having to do with conflicts between social groups across the Globe or the current state of so-called “intellectual property.” These are all very tricky and I don’t think they can be solved in any number of blogposts. The main thing I’ve been thinking about, in this case, is the implications of a global library in terms of privileges.

Come to think of it, it’s possible that much of the resistance to a global library have to do with privilege: unlike me, some people enjoy privilege.