Posts Tagged ‘blogging’

Introducing Groupthink

October 25th, 2009

This blog’s been very quiet over the past couple of weeks and tonight I can reveal what’s been sucking up a lot of my free time recently. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the brand new satirical team blog Groupthink.

I’ll still be writing here whenever I have something to say that doesn’t quite fit the Groupthink mission statement but I’ll be writing at Groupthink very regularly. So make sure you head on over to the new place, check it out, and whack it in your RSS reader. There are ten Groupthink contributors who I’m sure you’ll enjoy reading.

Article at Crikey

October 16th, 2009

Published today in Crikey’s subscriber email:

Bolt’s blog: why the apologies will continue

No matter what you think about the man’s work, there’s no denying that Andrew Bolt writes an extraordinarily successful blog that boasts “more than one million hits a month” and “as many as 13,000 comments in a week”. There is no doubt that it’s one of the biggest — if not the biggest — blog in the country in terms of readership and participation. The effort that must be required to manually moderate every single reader comment is mindboggling, and it sounds like Bolt does a decent share of it himself (“more than 10 hours of every choked week”).

Genuinely, I dips me lid. However, as Bolt discovered this week, if a single comment is approved that causes immeasurable hurt to one person (especially if that person is a prominent journalist and opponent of the blogger), there will probably be trouble.

Read the whole article …

Democratic participation

September 30th, 2009

The cornerstone of the democratic system is its participatory nature. Governments in democratic nations are formed by the people, of the people, and for the people. Here in Australia we’re famously relaxed about our engagement in the political process, but along with the rights that we take for granted come certain responsibilities. Some of those responsibilities are compulsory (like voting) and some are somewhat expected and implied.

One of those more implied responsibilities is participation in the democratic process; it is widely held that one of the measures of the strength of a democracy is the level of the electorate’s engagement. Participation in your country’s democracy can take many forms, and recently I’ve gotten to thinking about the scale of democratic participation and especially where blogging might fall on that scale.

But first, the scale. At the lower extreme of that participation scale there’s probably the bare bones of participation: a citizen’s simple awareness of political news and debate. At one step higher there might be thinking about that political news and debate. At another step higher there might be contributing to that debate by talking about it with another person.

At the upper extreme of the participation scale there’s probably being an elected representative in Parliament. At one step lower might be immediate advisors to the most important politicians. At another step lower might be public servants who work in ministries.

But then where do journalists, lobbyists, celebrities who don’t shut up, bloggers, and Steve Fielding fit? Taking just bloggers as an example for discussion, there are lots of different variables to take into account. Let’s start with three hypothetical examples.

Blogger A dutifully plugs away at a political blog to a regular readership of bugger all. The blogger approaches political matters seriously but without enormous depth or knowledge. The blogger’s work is mainly opinion, mainly based on anecdotal opinion.

Blogger B maintains a political blog with a large and dedicated readership. The blogger approaches political matters seriously, backing up their opinions and conclusions with data and evidence.

Blogger C maintains a political blog with a reasonably large readership. The blogger approaches political matters from a satirical angle with not much depth. The blogger’s work is mainly opinion and there is no real evidence of research.

On the face of it, there’s no real doubt that Blogger B would be placed higher on the participation scale than Bloggers A or C, and it’s likely that Blogger C would be higher than A due to the greater readership. But there are two specific factors that occur to me: influence and intent.

How do we measure the influence of a blogger? I’d say that influence is apparent and measurable in the size of the regular readership, the number of (serious and on-topic) comments, and the amount of links back to a blogger from other blogs. Less apparent and measurable manifestations of influence might be the effect that a blogger’s work has on readers. If a blog post inspires a reader to talk about the issue with others away from the Internet, or causes the reader to change their mind about an issue, or even just think about an issue, then it can be reasonably said that the blogger has had influence.

Looking again at the three hypothetical bloggers above, let’s take two of them and make a slight change: Blogger A attracts a reader by chance who is so taken by the body of Blogger A’s work and Blogger A’s opinions that the reader changes his or her allegiance from major political party X to major political party Y. Blogger B’s readership is fairly homogenous, and while they are passionately engaged in political argument and debate, nothing that Blogger B has written has ever significantly changed a reader’s thinking. How would these new scenarios change our assessment of the bloggers’ participation in democracy?

The second specific factor I thought about was intent. Taking hypothetical Blogger C, let’s assume that he or she has no actual intent to influence political debate because they’re only concerned with having a good laugh. But if one of Blogger C’s readers changes their political allegiance upon reading a satirical blog post, does that change Blogger C’s positioning on the participation scale?

And one final hypothetical example for consideration: Bob stands on the side of a main road for eight hours a day, seven days a week, for the three years between federal elections. Bob waves at motorists a variety of placards bearing topical but partisan political messages. Bob’s intent is clear, and the time and effort he put into attempting to influence other people is significant. Meanwhile, Sally studiously maintains a political blog for that same three years but her readership never really takes off. A couple of people drop in for long and serious debates about political issues but there is never any real regular readership. Is it Bob or Sally who has demonstrated greater participation in their democracy?

So some questions and discussion points for you, dear readers:

  • Is it possible to broadly place professions and activities on a scale of democratic participation, or are there so many variables to take into account that each individual case must be assessed individually?
  • If broad categorisation is possible, and democratic participation can be measured on a scale of one to ten – one being the bare minimum awareness of political news and debate, and ten being elected as a political representative – what else counts as democratic participation and where does it fall on the scale?
  • What are your thoughts about the democratic participation of the three hypothetical bloggers?
  • Are intent and influence important factors for consideration, and are there any others?
  • Who is the greater participant: Bob or Sally?

Let’s talk.

Harsh but true

September 7th, 2009

All bloggers would flinch a bit when reading this quote, but it’s right on the money.

… many bloggers, who rely strongly on their reputations for being irreverent and must compete for attention in an increasingly crowded, wildly free-market blogosphere, often veer off into gossip, innuendo, ridicule and vacuous sarcasm — like adolescents trying to get attention — as much as they cover “the news”. To the extent to which they do this, they may continue to function as entertainment vehicles … but they may not be taken seriously as purveyors of information and commentary on “issues of public concern.”

Hendrickson, L. (2007). Press Protection in the Blogosphere: Applying a Functional Definition of “Press” to New Web Logs. In Tremayne, M. (Ed.), Blogging, Citizenship and the Future of Media (pp. 187-203). Routledge: New York.

Curious

August 19th, 2009

Three questions:

  1. How many blogs do you read daily, or each time you get on the Internet if you don’t daily?
  2. Over the past year has this number grown, shrunk or remained about steady?
  3. What sort of blogs do you read? Are they mainly political, personal, specialty etc.?

Internet geography

August 10th, 2009

When a certain website featuring an orange-and-blue theme and a pretzel mascot closed down recently, a recurring theme became apparent to me during my conversations with others and in reading what people had to say about that closure. Many people said, in one form of words or another, that the Internet had changed, or that there was a piece suddenly missing. This got me thinking about how Internet users visualise a virtual world that feels very real to them and make it somehow tangible. At the pub, talking about this concept with a mate, I blurted out a name for the phenomenon: Internet geography.

And it’s true — any of us who have spent a decent amount of time on the Internet, and especially loitering around the blogosphere, know what it feels like when a site that holds significance to us (for negative or positive reasons) disappears. It’s like a hole opens up in our mental map of the tubescape, just like a building being demolished on the main street of our suburb. It’s important to separate this alteration to our mind map from any emotions we may feel about the site’s disappearance; acknowledgement of a change does not necessarily indicate fond sentimentality or sadness or even elation.

We don’t even need to know what a website looks like for it to feature in our geography. I have at least a dozen blogs in my RSS reader that I’ve not actually visited at in the past year, their existence only proven to me through a themeless data feed. I’ve completely forgotten what these blogs’ front pages look like but they still exist in my mind as actual places, complete with detailed and unique characteristics that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t quite put into words.

The cyberworld is a zero-dimensional place, existing as a stream of ones and zeros travelling near light speed down copper and fibre cables and manifesting itself as light on a two-dimensional screen. Yet the words we use to describe our use of the Internet are all based on three-dimensional movement: surf, navigate, go to, drop into, etc.

The way I see it, each Internet user builds in their mind a unique Internet geography based upon the sites that they know exist, the frequency at which they visit those sites, and the importance of that site to the user for whatever reason.This geography is highly dynamic, responding constantly to the user’s evolving use of the Internet and relationship to websites.

What do you reckon about this theory of Internet geography? Do you have a mental map of the Internet that reflects the way you use it? Do you think there are other things that contribute to this map? Have you had any particular experiences where a site’s closure has forced you to redraw your own Internet geography?

Quality blog debate

August 3rd, 2009

As I’ve suggested in my comments policy, one of the things that I’m hoping to achieve with this new site is a high standard of discussion; threads of genuine and serious debate where each comment builds on those before it. Conversation, be it face-to-face or online, does tend to wander off on tangents and stray off-topic, but an unfortunate side-effect of this on blogs is that comment threads often degenerate very quickly into several disparate conversations that bear little resemblance to the original post. New readers see no point in getting involved and those commenting gain little satisfaction from their efforts. Nobody really takes anything from the blog post.

One of the reasons that blogging is such an exciting activity is that there is amazing potential for everyone to benefit from a post: author and commenters. If both “sides” of the conversation are disciplined and work hard to use the comment threads as a place where people debate and expand on the ideas in the original post then the blog is a powerful tool.

But the discipline and hard work are, well, hard work. Commenters must resist getting distracted by unrelated tangents, they must ensure that comments build on previously-expressed ideas, and they must respect opposing opinions; blog owners must be firm but fair in their moderation. Egos are fragile and they must be protected. The process of encouraging respectful discussion can be painful for all involved but the results are surely worth it.

The Australian’s Jack the Insider recently made a decision to try and encourage a higher standard of discussion at his blog.

… I’m going to make one important new rule for this blog.

If I don’t think a comment adds to the debate, the comment will be deleted. That’s it. It’s a good rule when you think about it. Good for me, that is. The process is arbitrary, judgment capricious but that’s the way it goes, folks.

I don’t have to publish comments. Don’t mention free speech. It has nothing to do with that.

Harsh but fair? Totally justified? What are your thoughts on the process of encouraging a better standard of conversation on blogs? Let’s see if we can have a chat about it and prove a point at the same time.

Not an either/or proposition

July 2nd, 2009

This article was first published in the Crikey subscriber email.

__________

It must be pretty humbling to feel your power slipping away. And not just slipping away to an equally powerful competitor, but slipping away to — gasp! — ordinary people.

Let’s just say you’re the Australian head of a massive, global media company and that you’re accustomed to people doing what you say. You grew up in a social and business environment where money meant power, where media barons were the only people who could afford to communicate directly with large numbers of people; it has been this way for as long as you can remember, and as long as your father’s generation can remember for that matter. But one day along comes this thing called The Internet, promising to democratise the flow of information, and something terrible begins to happen: the plebs grow bold and start to rise up, empowered by having their voice heard, unworried about profit or business models. If you were that media baron what would you do? Would you adapt or would you atrophy?

» Read more: Not an either/or proposition